Geraldine's POV

A thick, oppressive silence surrounded me, stretching endlessly into the void. Was this death?  

I tried to move, but my limbs felt as if they were wrapped in lead, refusing to obey. The last thing I remembered was eating breakfast, a bitter taste on my tongue, then darkness swallowing me whole.  

Had I finally crossed over to the afterlife?  

A low hum vibrated in the depths of my mind. It was low at first, almost like a whisper carried in the wind. Then it grew stronger and louder that it seemed like it was going to burst my ears.

"Wake up, Geraldine."

I stiffened. That was my wolf.  

She had been silent for so long that I’d nearly forgotten what her voice sounded like.  

"You’re not dead," she murmured, a touch of exasperation in her tone. "But if you don’t wake up soon, we might wish we were." 

I forced my eyelids open, blinking sluggishly against the dim light. My vision swam for a moment before settling on something, or rather, someone, far too close to my face.  

A pointed, masculine nose hovered inches from mine. My blurry gaze traveled upward, locking onto a pair of piercing, golden eyes staring intently at me.  

I jerked back with a weak gasp, only to find myself trapped by strong arms on either side of me.  

"Finally awake, are we?" The voice was deep, smooth, and laced with amusement.  

My mind fought to catch up, but my body had other plans. A wave of nausea rolled through me, and I groaned, pressing my palm to my forehead.  

"Easy," the man said, shifting slightly. "You’ve had a rough morning."  

My tongue felt like sandpaper against the roof of my mouth. "What… happened?"  

He didn’t answer right away. Instead, he tilted his head, studying me with an unreadable expression.  

"You were poisoned," he finally said, his tone carefully controlled. "Wolfsbane."  

My breath hitched. Wolfsbane?  

My heart pounded as fragmented memories surfaced, breakfast, the bitter taste, the burning sensation in my throat before my body gave out.  

I swallowed hard, my gaze darting around the room. The air smelled faintly of blood and something burnt. My stomach twisted and I felt like vomiting everything I had eaten that morning.  

"Am I…" I hesitated. "Am I still in the packhouse?"  

"Of course." His lips quirked into a smirk. "You didn’t think I’d let you die that easily, did you?"  

I blinked at him, my mind still sluggish.  

"Who…?"  

"Amir." He leaned back slightly, giving me a moment to process. "Your husband, remember?"  

The reminder sent a fresh wave of nausea crashing over me, but not from the poison this time.  

Oh, Moon Goddess. What had I gotten myself into? I remember I had stupidly signed a contract to be married to this man. What the hell was I thinking?

His golden eyes gleamed with something unreadable as he leaned back slightly, giving me just enough space to breathe, but not enough to escape his presence.  

"You’re lucky you survived," he said smoothly, his tone casual and indifferent. "I was about to put you to rest myself if you didn’t wake up soon."  

My sluggish mind took a second to process his words, but when I did, I snapped my head toward him so fast it sent another wave of dizziness crashing over me.  

I stared at him, wide-eyed, like he had just grown a second head.  

"You were what?"  

His smirk deepened, as if my horror amused him. "What? Did you expect me to keep a corpse around? That would be unsanitary."  

I opened my mouth, then closed it, my mind struggling between outrage and sheer disbelief.  

"You're insane," I finally muttered, shifting to sit up despite the heaviness in my limbs.  

"And you’re alive," he countered smoothly, his eyes flicking over me like he was assessing my every movement. "So maybe you should be thanking me instead of gaping at me like a fish."  

Thank him?  

Oh, I must have still been hallucinating from the poison.

I swallowed back the retort burning on my tongue, trying to make sense of the situation. My body still felt weak and my throat was dry as if I had chewed on a heap of gravel stones. And yet, the Alpha sat there, entirely unfazed, watching me like I was nothing more than a minor inconvenience.  

Before I could gather my thoughts, he spoke again.  

"This stays between us," he said, his voice taking on a sharp edge. "Until I find out who did this, no one can know you were poisoned."  

I frowned. "But—"  

"No buts, Geraldine." His golden eyes darkened with authority. "If word gets out that my Luna was nearly killed under my own roof, it will be seen as a sign of weakness. And I don’t tolerate weakness."  

My stomach twisted. Of course, it wasn't about my near-death experience. It was about maintaining his damn reputation.  

He stood, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeves before turning back to me. "Get up. The Luna welcoming ceremony is in a few hours."  

I blinked. "The what?"  

He arched a brow, as if I'd just asked whether the moon existed. "Your Luna welcoming ceremony. The pack expects to see their new Luna officially introduced."  

I let out a dry, incredulous laugh. "You expect me to attend a ceremony when I just woke up from a near-death experience?"  

He tilted his head slightly, his smirk returning, but this time, it held a sharper edge. "Yes. You’re my wife, and that comes with responsibilities. So, recover quickly, Luna."  

I clenched my fists beneath the sheets. The audacity. The sheer insensitivity of this man.  

But deep down, I knew I had no choice.  

With gritted teeth, I forced myself upright, determined not to let him see my weakness. If he wanted a Luna, he’d get one. But he was going to be disappointed if he thought he could control me.

The moment Amir left, a group of maids entered, led by a stern-faced woman.  

"Lady Geraldine," she said briskly. "I’m your personal attendant. The Alpha ordered us to prepare you."  

Of course, he did.  

They wasted no time. A quick bath, scented with some floral thing, washed away the remnants of my near-death experience. Before I could catch my breath, I was seated at the vanity, my silver hair twisted into an intricate updo adorned with delicate chains and moon-shaped ornaments.  

She held up the gown. It was a navy blue ball gown. It was sleek yet regal, embroidered with silver patterns that looked like constellations.  

"Chosen by the Alpha himself," she noted.  

I rolled my eyes but stepped into it. The fabric was smooth, the fit perfect. When I glanced at my reflection, I barely recognized myself.  

"Done," She declared, fastening the final clasp.  

I inhaled sharply, pushing down my exhaustion. I wasn’t ready for this, but I had no choice.  

Let the show begin.

The grand hall buzzed with quiet murmurs as I stepped inside, my heels clicking softly against the polished marble floor. 

Some faces watched in awe, their eyes filled with admiration. Others… not so much.  

Whispers slithered through the crowd.  

“She’s beautiful.”

“A rogue Luna? Unbelievable.” 

I kept my head high, ignoring the sneers and the forced smiles. If they thought I was weak, they were about to find out who they were playing with.  

Amir stood at the center of the elevated podium, dressed in a tailored black suit that accentuated his sharp features. His golden eyes gleamed as he extended a hand toward me, silently summoning me to his side.  

I hesitated for a fraction of a second before stepping forward. The applause was polite.  

I reached his side, and he guided me into the chair beside him.

"You're forgetting to smile again," he murmured, his lips barely moving.  

I clenched my jaw but did as he said, forcing a serene expression onto my face.  

The pack elder stepped forward, his voice echoing through the hall.  

"Loyal members of the Night Pack, we welcome our new Luna, Lady Geraldine!"  

A chorus of cheers and scattered claps followed, though some clapped slower than others.  

Then the music changed. A slow, melodic tune filled the air, signaling the next part of the ceremony.  

"The first dance," Amir murmured, standing smoothly and extending a hand to me.  

I blinked up at him. "You’re joking."  

His smirk deepened. "Do I look like I'm joking?"  

Before I could protest, he pulled me to my feet, leading me toward the center of the room.  

He hadn't told me about dancing! I can't dance for the life of me!

As we reached the center of the ballroom, my pulse pounded against my temples. The sea of expectant eyes only made my skin prickle with unease.  

I swallowed hard. I couldn't dance. No, scratch that—I didn't dance. Ever.  

But Amir didn’t give me time to dwell on that.  

His hand found my waist, his grip firm yet controlled, as he guided my palm to rest lightly in his.  

"Follow my lead," he murmured, his golden eyes gleaming with intent.  

I stiffened as he took the first step. My body refused to cooperate, my feet barely moving, as if glued to the floor.  

"Move, Geraldine," he warned in a low voice.  

I tried. I really did. But my limbs felt as stiff as wooden planks. I shuffled awkwardly, moving in a rigid, jerky motion that must have looked as unnatural as it felt.  

The moment I glanced up at Amir, I regretted it. His smirk had vanished, replaced with a look so menacing it sent a shiver down my spine.  

"Why," he drawled, voice deceptively calm, "ARE YOU DANCING LIKE THAT?"  

The words rang through the air, though he hadn’t spoken loudly enough for anyone else to hear.  

I froze. My heart slammed against my ribs.  

I knew that tone. It was the kind that came before something very bad happened.  

His grip on my waist tightened for a split second before, without warning, he shoved me aside.  

A gasp tore from my lips as my balance faltered. The room tilted, and in the next breath, I crumpled to the floor, the impact shocking through my already weakened body.  

A collective gasp echoed through the grand hall. The music came to a screeching halt, and for a long, agonizing moment, there was nothing but stunned silence.  

I looked around slowly in stunned shock and found that every eye was trained on me. 

Humiliation burned through my veins, hotter than the wolfsbane poison that had nearly killed me earlier.  

From my place on the floor, I looked up, my breath hitching as my gaze met Amir’s golden eyes.  

He stood above me, towering and impassive, his expression was blank except for the thinly veiled disappointment lurking beneath the surface.  

Then, as if I were nothing more than a pest, he turned on his heel and walked back to his throne.  

"The festivities will continue," he announced, his voice smooth, commanding. "Carry on."  

And just like that, the music resumed, and the guests hesitantly began to move again, though whispers rippled through the crowd like wildfire.  

I barely heard them.  

My pulse thundered in my ears as I pushed myself upright, my palms pressing against the cold marble floor.  

Mortified. That was the only word for what I was.  

I had been humiliated, discarded in front of an entire pack like a broken doll.  

And yet, not a single person reached out to help me.  

Not one.  

With trembling fingers, I smoothed the fabric of my gown, forcing my expression into a mask of indifference. 

Slowly, I got to my feet, my head held high despite the way my insides twisted with fury and shame.  

I stole one last glance toward the bastard. He sat on his throne, watching the festivities with detached amusement, as if he hadn’t just humiliated me in front of his entire pack.  

I smirked with a slight amusement and indignation. 

So, he wanted a Luna who would be obedient. Who would bow to his every whim.  

He had no idea what kind of woman he had signed a contract with.