A Warrior Luna's Awakening (Freya and Caelum) novel Chapter 1

Freya’s POV
The coronation ceremony was in full swing, laughter drifting through the moonlit clearing like the ghosts of joy I no longer recognized. 
And in the center—he stood.
My mate.
Alpha Caelum.
Today was supposed to be our third anniversary. He had told me he was too busy—too busy for vows beneath the moon, too busy for me. Yet here he was, not at my side, but standing beside her.
Aurora.
Daughter of the Bluemoon Pack. Beta-born. Newly anointed female pilot of the Airborne Wing. The council’s perfect heir.
I noticed first the absence on his hand. The wedding band he once swore never to take off was gone.
“Forgot,” I could imagine his answer when I asked. But I knew better——Aurora didn’t want the world to know he was already claimed, and for her, he was willing to strip me off his skin.
Aurora rushed into his arms before the Circle of Stone, laughter bright as if the moon itself had kissed her. 
Then she spoke.
Her voice, soft as down-fur and twice as venomous, slid through the firelit circle like a velvet-wrapped blade.
"Alpha Caelum, you said…" She tilted her head, eyes glinting with calculated cruelty. "You said that when I became the female pilot, you would give me something no one else could ever have. A token of loyalty. Of love. Was that just pillow talk?"
The clearing froze for a single heartbeat.
Then the wolves erupted—not in challenge, not in outrage, but in celebration. Howls rose into the sky like smoke from a pyre; paws clapped, throats snarled their approval; even the elders nodded as if pride had taken root in their bones. They thought this was his claim. His Luna revealed.
Because Caelum had never spoken my name.
Never marked me.
Never declared me before the Circle of Stone.
And now, when Aurora stood beside him, it was her they saw.
Caelum did not deny her words.
He smiled.
Not the boyish grin he once gave me beneath the stars when we named imaginary pups in the constellations, but a smile colder, sharper, calculated—the smile of an Alpha claiming his prize. His hand slipped into his coat, and when it reemerged, I saw it.
The ring.
The one from the Crescent Black Market, the one I had begged for not because of its worth but because it was the last tether to my mother. And now, he slid the ring onto Aurora's finger.
Something inside me broke.
I lunged forward through the circle of wolves, through hands mid-clap and mouths mid-howl.
"Wait!"
Gasps cut through the night. Faces turned toward me. Not with pity. Not with understanding. But with outrage.
“She dares interrupt the Alpha?”
“Who is she to defy him?”
“Ungrateful Omega—does she think herself above the Circle?”
The elders’ voices carried like thunder, layered with centuries of law.
“Step back, girl. You shame yourself. You shame the Alpha.”
Ryker, Caelum’s enforcer, sneered from the shadows. "One ring and she’s drooling like it’s moonstone and fate," he jeered. "Told you Omegas are shallow. Especially the orphaned ones."
Their condemnation seared through me like fire, each word a lash across already bleeding skin. But I did not stop. My eyes were fixed on the ring glinting at Aurora’s finger.
My hand reached—
Caelum caught my wrist, iron and command in his grip.
“It’s hers now,” he said, every syllable sharpened with Alpha authority.
"But you promised," I whispered.
He did not blink.
"It was a gift. For Aurora. To celebrate her promotion."
Promotion.
As if the ring hadn’t belonged to the ghost of a war hero.
As if it hadn’t been bought with blood.
I stared at him. "What if I told you I wasn’t asking?"
Behind him, Ryker barked out a laugh. "Gold-digger. I told you she was never Alpha’s equal. Just a charity case with good eyes and no teeth."
Aurora scoffed, unclasping the ring. "Please. I didn’t even want it. Caelum never said it meant anything." She tossed it at my feet.
The ruby struck the ground with a sound that echoed like a curse.
Snickers rippled through the crowd. The elders shook their heads in disdain.
“Dare to offend our future Luna, she should be punished.”
Their judgment cut deeper than any blade.
But I said nothing.
I knelt, fingers curling around the gem, pressing it into my palm until its edges bit into my skin.
This ring had once belonged to Healer Myra. Medic. Warrior. My mother. They dismissed her as another Omega, but they did not know she had negotiated peace in blood territory with nothing but her name and this ring. 
They did not know about my father either—Arthur Thorne, field strategist, the Ghost General of the Iron Fang, who lost his entire unit in enemy territory except for the peace their sacrifice purchased.
And they did not know about me.
Arthur's only daughter.
Once a frontline commander in the Iron Fang Recon Unit, a black ops force so secret that even the council had no jurisdiction. When I retired, I had not only been ordered to bury my identity—I had been forbidden, by blood-vow, to release my true scent. My Alpha pheromones.
For three years I suppressed every instinct, not with suppression drugs, which never worked on high-ranking wolves, but through raw will, discipline, pain. And even after the vow expired, I kept hiding it. Why? Because I wanted to believe love was possible without dominance. That someone could love me for who I was, not for my Alpha blood, not for my legacy, not for the wolf coiled beneath my skin.
So when I met Caelum—when I found him broken yet ambitious, a wolf with dreams too big for his pack-born chains—I let him see only what I chose: a humble Omega from a rear logistics unit. A woman with no past, no expectations, no name.
And I chose him.
I believed that would be enough.
So I gave him everything—my parents’ blood-earned compensation, the resources they died to protect, the foundation of the Silverfang Pack, the capital to build his company. I gave him three years of my life—three years of faith, loyalty, waiting.
And now, I stood betrayed, looking at the man I once called pack.
Slowly, I rose. The ache in my chest hardened into something colder.
"Forget the ring," I said. "Tomorrow, my parents return from the Eastern Border. I want you beside me. Stand as my mate."
For the first time, his composure wavered. A flicker—guilt? Doubt?
"Alright," he said at last.
I turned and walked away.
Behind me, Ryker muttered, "Courier service for dead Omegas now? What’s next, ghost parades?"
I didn’t turn.
I only held the ring tighter.
"Rest easy," I whispered. "Tomorrow, you come home."
Their laughter and sneers trailed after me as I passed—elders shaking their heads, guests whispering as though my disgrace was entertainment. 
Let them think Aurora will be their Luna. Let them believe their Alpha is a man who knows loyalty.
The day they learn the truth, the shame won’t be mine to carry. 
It will be theirs.