Chapter 4 Luna
Luna
Notebook: A generous offer rarely comes without a cost. Always check for the strings… they’re usually attached to something sharp. Or, in my case, dicks.
Iwake up with a renewed sense of purpose. Today is my escape from the Shifter Institute, a chance to reclaim my life.
I sit up, stretching to shake off the weight of last night’s rejection. I bury that memory deep, vowing never to revisit it.
He isn’t worth my time or my pain. I refuse to spend another hour crying over a man who wouldn’t even blink for me.
I reach for my phone on the nightstand, spiderweb of cracks across the screen.
The device stutters to life, and its glitching display reminds me of how I acquired it: I fished it out of the garbage after Tiffany, one of the institute’s pampered princesses, tossed it away.
All because she’d dropped it once and couldn’t bear the “unsightly” crack at the corner.
“Rich people problems,” I mutter.
She hadn’t even bothered to cancel the extra line on her family plan. It must be nice to be so wealthy that you don’t even glance at your monthly bills, but her carelessness has been my lifeline.
I scroll through my social media, immediately regretting it.
Last night’s humiliation has gone viral.
My face is splashed across every corner of InstaShifter: candid shots, video clips, memes shouting “I reject you,” and an avalanche of comments. My follower count skyrocketed from three to a staggering 13,000 overnight.
I groan.
Just what I need.
I tried not to look at the comments, but why settle for a knife wound when you can gut yourself completely?
@saramoondreamer: Did you see how he looked at her scars? Disgusting. She’s brave for standing up to him. #TeamLuna #ScarredSavage
@packqueen: Ugh, Conrad could’ve done so much better. Why was he even matched with her? #Rejected #MateMismatch
@lonewolflover: I can’t believe Luna rejected Conrad! She’s got guts. #Respect #LunaStrong
@Isa_D99: I wish Conrad were mine. #IDon’tHaveScarsChooseMe #DreamMate #ConradILoveYou
@alphaadmire: What a joke. She’s not even that pretty. Conrad dodged a bullet. #HarshTruth #MateFinderDrama
Reply to @alphaadmire from @marcyqueenie: I know Luna personally, and Conrad did indeed dodge a bullet! #SheSmellsBadToo
@nightowlartist: Luna’s scars are beautiful. They show her strength and resilience. #ScarsAreBeautiful #WarriorFemale
@packleader83: That was savage! This is better than any TV show. Can’t wait to see what happens next. #ShifterReality #ScarredSavage
@maggieforest: Conrad’s an idiot. A true scent match would look past the scars. #RealLoveSeesBeyond #RejectedSavage
@herbalmagicgreens: Have you tried to lose weight but can’t seem to shed the extra pounds? Try our new herbal teas #LunaLoveOurTeas #LinkInBio
@silvermoon123: Does anyone else think this whole thing is staged? It feels too dramatic to be real. #ConspiracyTheory #ShifterGossip
@heartsforever: Luna, if you’re reading this, stay strong. You’re an inspiration to all of us who feel less than perfect. #StayStrongLuna #Inspiration
@shifterchic: OMG, can you believe she actually rejected him back? Power move, girl! #QueenLuna #ScarredSavage
“Miss Woods, Headmistress Gray requests your presence,” a voice calls from outside my dorm room, jolting me from my thoughts.
“I’ll be there in five!” I reply, swallowing the lump in my throat.
I pull on frayed jeans and a faded tee, not bothering to tame my tangled hair.
What’s the point?
I shuffle into the kitchen, grabbing a handful of ice to soothe my swollen eyes before saying goodbye to my only friends. Jackie and Amanda, two of my three followers from InstaShifter, are busy in the common area, their faces a mix of concern and sympathy.
Jackie hands me a $20 bill and hugs me tightly while Amanda gives me a folded paper with her sister’s name.
I glance down at the note, already knowing the plan.
I’ll be heading her way, working at the diner, and renting a room above it until I’m on my feet.
It’s only a few miles away—too close for comfort, but it’s a start.
“Thank you. I’ll miss you,” I say, my voice thick with emotion.
I wave them goodbye before heading to the headmistress’s office.
Headmistress Gray greets me when I step inside with her usual steely demeanor. As soon as I sit, she dives into the matter.
“Luna, you understand the debt incurred during your stay must be settled,” she states, her tone flat.
“Yes, I have a job lined up. I start tomorrow and can begin paying monthly installments next month,” I respond, trying to sound confident.
Her smile is anything but warm. “You do realize, Luna, when there’s a scent match, all incurred costs must be paid in full within seven days.”
I frown, confusion bubbling up. “But my scent match—”
“Was unfortunate, yes. But the debt remains.” She looks at me like I’m just another entry in her ledger.
“Can’t he foot the bill? He’s richer than anyone else in this whole fucking city,” I say, my voice rising slightly, panic creeping in.
“Language,” she says sternly. “He would have. But now that you’ve thoroughly humiliated him, that is most definitely out of the question.”
“So I was just supposed to let him shit all over me?”
“Language.”
“What are my options? Can’t I pay monthly?”
“No, I’m sorry, Luna.”
What the actual fuck?
“You know I don’t have any money. How am I going to pay you back now?”
“Well, there are options,” she replies, her tone too casual for my liking.
“Options?” My heart races, dread pooling in my stomach.
It feels so unjust; I’m being punished for circumstances beyond my control.
“Yes. Two options. The flesh market is interested in you,” she states, as if discussing the weather. “A buyer is already lined up. Eager shifters are willing to pay handsomely for the chance to fuck Conrad Clawford’s rejected scent match.”
I’m almost compelled to reprimand her for her language, but I’m too shocked by that word coming out of her mouth and its implications.
I feel sick.
The flesh market is a nightmare I can’t fathom facing.
“I’ve spent six years here, and you would sell me to the flesh market?” I gasp, horror creeping into my voice.
“I’m a businesswoman, Luna,” she waves her hand dismissively. “We need to be strategic. ‘Scarred Savage’ is currently trending; you can benefit from that.”
I feel the world spinning, my breath quickening as I hyperventilate.
This can’t be real.
“Or,” she continues, “service Alpha Hudson Northcrest and his pack. He’s expressed a special interest in you.”
“Alpha Hudson Northcrest?” The name brings back the brief encounter from the ceremony.
As if summoned, the door swings open, and there he stands. His entrance commands attention, his aura filling the room, challenging the very air to disobey him, but once again, he’s not throwing around his weight.
“Miss Woods,” he says, his voice a low rumble. “We meet again.”
“Alpha Northcrest.” My response comes out steadier than I feel. I shift in my seat as my palms start to sweat.
“Choose, Luna,” the headmistress insists. “Your debt waits for no one.”
A panicked laugh bubbles out of me. “Choose?” I ask. “You’re asking me to choose between the flesh market or ‘service’ another. What does that even mean?”
“It means what you think it means, Luna,” Alpha Hudson says, staring me straight in the eyes. “Our pack lives farther north. We have five strong males who need a female for our… let’s say, urges. Our pack is remote; there aren’t many females.”
I frown. “Why would you even want me? I’m damaged and scarred.”
He gently grabs my jaw. “You are not damaged. You’re strong, and that’s what we need.”
“How long?” I ask.
There’s no way I’m signing myself to these men for life.
“Five years,” Alpha Hudson says.
“Two,” I say, lifting my chin.
He smiles. “Three.”
My mind whirls as he steps back and leans against the door frame.
The flesh market is a nightmare I can’t face, but could I endure the demands of an Alpha and his pack?
“Tell me,” I demand. “What it means to… to go with you.”
“You’ll live with us, be protected by us,” he begins, each word deliberate. “In return, you’ll fill a role in our pack.”
I swallow the lump forming in my throat. The implications make my stomach churn.
Service.
Submission.
But the alternative… I shudder, picturing the horrors I’ve heard of the flesh market.
No, I can’t end up there.
“Protected? Or owned?”
“Protected,” he assures, the corner of his mouth twitching as if the distinction amuses him. “We’re not monsters, Luna.”
“Feels monstrous,” I whisper, the words laced with bitterness as anger swirls within me.
It all feels so unjust—the crushing weight of debt, the sting of rejection, and these impossible choices laid before me.
“Life is seldom fair,” Alpha Hudson replies as if he can sense my turmoil. “But within my pack, you’ll have a chance. A fresh start.”
“Fresh start or gilded cage?” I counter. “Seems like I’m trading one prison for another.”
“Perhaps,” he concedes, his gaze unwavering. “But in one, you’ll have freedom within boundaries. In the other, you’ll be nothing but a commodity.”
My fists clench, nails biting into my palms as his words cut deep. There’s a painful truth in what he says, and it stings like salt on an open wound.
How did I end up here, faced with such shades of captivity?
“Listen, I know this isn’t what you envisioned for your life,” Alpha Hudson continues, surprising me with the gentleness in his tone. “But we can provide safety, a place where you can belong.”
“Belong…” The word reverberates in my mind, hollow and haunting. It has always been out of reach, a dream dangled before me only to be snatched away. And now, that dream comes shackled with chains.
“Is there no other way?” I ask, desperation creeping into my voice. “Anything else I can do?”
“Your debt is substantial,” Alpha Hudson says, his expression somber. “And time is not on your side.”
“Because of a system that was supposed to protect me!” I erupt, frustration spilling over. “It promised me a mate, love, acceptance! And when everything crumbles, I’m the one left to bear the cost!
“Sometimes, the system fails us,” Alpha Hudson acknowledges. “But in those moments, we must forge our own path and carve our own destiny.”
“By being indebted to you?” I shoot back.
“By taking control of the options available to you,” he clarifies. “Not ideal, but it’s power, nonetheless.”
“Power,” I scoff, the concept feeling foreign and distant. Yet, something about Alpha Hudson’s words sparks a tiny ember of resolve within me.
“Decide, Luna,” he urges gently. “Not out of fear, but out of the will to forge ahead.”
I search his eyes for deceit, but all I find is a quiet understanding, an unspoken promise that perhaps I could discover strength in this new reality.
“Fine,” I say, swallowing hard. “I’ll go with Alpha Hudson Northcrest.”
“Excellent choice,” the headmistress interjects, her tone almost gleeful.
“Pack your things,” Alpha Hudson says with a pleased smile. “We leave in a few minutes.”