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HIS LUNA, HIS PRISONER.  Novel Cover

HIS LUNA, HIS PRISONER.

Bound by fate, Torn by desire, Forbidden by choice. Rhyna, a healer omega, never asked for war, or to be taken prisoner. But when the feared Alpha, Conan, drags her into the heart of enemy territory, her world flips upside down. He claims she is his Luna, destined by a bond she refuses to accept. She is determined to fight, to resist, to survive... but Conan's dominance, power, and the pull of their inexplicable bond test everything she thought she knew about love, loyalty, and herself. In a world where packs clash and hearts are weapons, can a healer survive the Alpha's desires, and resist the pull of a mate she never wanted?
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Chapter 4

RHYNA'S POV

Nothing made sense anymore.

Everything felt wrong, confused, and unreal, like my life had been ripped apart and thrown back together wrong. One moment, I had been kneeling in blood-soaked soil, pressing my hands against torn flesh, whispering prayers to the Moon Goddess as soldiers screamed around me.

The next...

I was standing in a room that did not belong to me, facing an Alpha who claimed I was his Luna.

A Luna.

To him.

My chest tightened painfully as the word echoed in my head. His Luna, mate and bound.

"No," I said, shaking my head slowly. "You're insane."

My voice sounded strange to my own ears, tight and sharp with disbelief.

"I don't care who you think you are," I continued, my hands clenching at my sides. "You will never have me. You will never use me."

The word used burned on my tongue. I had seen it happen before,omegas taken, broken, treated like nothing more than tools for power or pleasure. I would rather die than become that.

He didn't move nor did he raise his voice.

He simply stood there, tall and unbothered, watching me rave like a lunatic. His face was calm, cold, and unreadable, as if my anger meant nothing.

"Use you?" he finally said. His voice was low, almost bored. "Do I look like someone who uses people?"

"That's your fucking business," I retorted sharply.

He didn't even acknowledge the insult.

"You're my Luna," he said instead, his tone firm, final. "We're bound."

The word slammed into me like a physical blow.

"No!" I shouted, my control finally snapping. "I don't want to hear that again. Fuck you and whatever twisted thoughts are in your head."

I rushed at him without thinking, rage driving my body faster than fear ever could. If I could hurt him,even once, maybe this nightmare would crack. I desperately wanted to hurt him.

He caught me easily, too easily.

His hands closed around my arms, firm but controlled, stopping me before I could even reach his chest. This time, I forced myself not to go limp, not to let panic steal my strength, not to give myself away.

I would not break.

"Don't you feel it?" he murmured, leaning closer. "Tell me you don't sense the pull. Tell me your wolf isn't reacting."

My heart was racing violently now, slamming against my ribs like it wanted to escape. Heat burned through my veins, confusing and unwelcome.

Inside me, my wolf stirred, restless, torn, pulling in two directions at once.

I hated it. I hated that some part of me responded to him, no matter how small.

"That doesn't mean anything," I said through clenched teeth. "It doesn't mean you're my mate."

"It does," he replied calmly. "And you know it."

I shook my head hard. "No. I refuse to believe that."

His grip loosened slightly, but his eyes sharpened.

"I warned you not to touch me," he said coldly. "But you didn't listen. You had to be reckless. You came in contact with my blood."

My breath hitched.

The memory flashed back,my nails digging into his wound, warm blood spilling over my fingers, that sudden burning sensation that had nearly knocked me to my knees.

"That," he continued, his voice low and controlled, "is what sealed it."

My chest tightened painfully.

"No," I whispered.

Then louder. "No. No, no, no."

I laughed, sharp and broken, panic bleeding into my anger. "Go to hell. You must be joking."

I shoved at his chest, even though I knew it wouldn't move him.

"Fuck you," I screamed. "Fuck you. Fuck you!"

That was when he snapped.

"You think I want this?" he roared, his voice shaking the room. "You think I chose you?"

The air seemed to vibrate with his anger.

"Do you have any idea who I am?" he continued. "I'm Conan. Alpha of the Shadowbound Claw Pack."

His eyes burned into mine, glowing faintly with power.

"And I've been tied to the lowest of a pack?" he scoffed. "My enemies pack." "An omega for that matter?"

The word sliced straight through me.

"You're not even my type," he went on mercilessly. "There is nothing about you that would ever make me interested."

Each word struck deeper than the last.

I felt it then,bthe sharp, aching wound in my chest. Not just from his rejection, but from the truth behind it. To him, my rank erased my worth.

I had heard it all my life.

Weak. Last. Unimportant.

Still, I straightened my spine.

I would not bow.

"I don't care," I said, forcing strength into my voice. "I've survived worse than your insults."

He stared at me, expression unreadable.

"I am not your Luna," I continued, meeting his gaze head-on. "And I never will be."

Silence filled the room.

"You captured me as a prisoner," I went on, my voice steady now. "Not as your Luna. So if you're going to keep me here, then keep me as a prisoner."

His jaw tightened.

"If that's what you want," he said coldly, "then that's what you'll get."

He turned away without another word.

The door slammed shut behind him, the sound echoing through the room like a final verdict.

I stood there, my hands trembling, my chest aching, my wolf pacing restlessly inside me.

Bound to an Alpha whom I despised with passion.

Trapped in a fate I never chose.

But even as panic ran through my body, something else burned brighter.

Defiance.

This war was no longer just between packs.

It was between him and me, and I would not lose.

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