Reclaimed By My Alpha (Natalia and Andrei) novel Chapter 22

NATALIA

The Green Ridge hall was grander than I expected–not in size, but in confidence. It didn’t need opulence to prove itself. The old stone walls were half–covered in rich green moss and etched with the marks of long–standing territory.

Gold–framed banners of visiting packs swayed gently under high–arched beams, and an intricate chandelier, shaped like a wolf’s outstretched paw, flickered with floating candles overhead.

It was beautiful in the way old power always is–quietly, unmistakably sure of itself.

of I adjusted the neckline of my navy dress and took a breath as I entered, trying to ignore the immediate wave heat that pressed in from the crowded room. Conversations hummed beneath the music.

Every Alpha, Luna, and visiting envoy in attendance moved with practiced grace. They didn’t gawk, didn’t stare but I still felt the weight of a dozen pairs of eyes skim across me the moment I stepped in.

Damon wasn’t here. This was my show.

I walked in as his Luna, crest pressed against my collarbone and every thread of this gown chosen to project composure. Confidence. Control. But my heels clicked too loud on the marble. My shoulders felt too tight.

I kept my chin high and moved through the crowd alone.

I’d darkened my lashes, softened the angle of my jaw, even changed my scent profile with crushed pine and a touch of bergamot. Nothing too obvious–just enough to slow recognition, not erase it.

Still, heads turned.

Not in recognition. Not yet. But curiosity lingered in every glance.

Andrei’s long–lost Luna.

Ashmoor’s well–kept secret.

I was no one and everyone, depending on who you asked.

***

A server passed with a tray of crystal flutes. I took one, though I didn’t drink.

The liquid shimmered–a mix of elderflower and something tart. I took a small sip, mostly to avoid having to speak too soon. I needed to anchor myself, memorize the exits, scan for old allies and newer threats.

That was when she found me.

The hosting Luna.

She was older–late forties, perhaps–but carried herself like a woman who had fought for every inch of her title. Thick auburn hair braided into a crown. Shoulders back, hands bare of jewels. No need for them.

Chapter 22

“You must be Ashmoor’s Luna,” she said, approaching with a polite smile. “Damon sent you in his stead?”

I returned the smile with practiced ease. “He sends his regrets. I’m here in his place.”

She took both of my hands in hers. Warm. Firm. Assessing.

“You look familiar,” she said, narrowing her eyes slightly. “Have we met?”

“I don’t believe so.”

She tilted her head. “Hm. You have one of those faces, I suppose. Striking. Difficult to forget.”

I said nothing.

She nodded to herself, as if filing me away for later. “Well, I hope you enjoy your evening. Damon’s name is earning weight–especially after how quickly Ashmoor’s grown. People will want to know who you

“Thank you,” I murmured.

She glided off, and sure enough, they started coming.

are.

17

***

Some were subtle just glances, gentle questions wrapped in compliments. Others were bolder, asking directly where I was from, how long I’d been Luna, what my background was. I danced around each query like a blade. My words were measured. Polite. Unyielding.

“Damon and I prefer our privacy.”

“No, I wasn’t raised in the central packs.”

“We’ve worked together closely for several years.

They didn’t say Andrei’s name. Not yet. But it hung there anyway.

Then it happened.

I paused by the refreshment table, folding a linen napkin between my fingers, and heard it just off to the side, behind a curtain of ivy that separated the smaller conversation circle from the main room.

“He still hasn’t married her?”

I stilled.

“No. It’s been, what… three, four years now? They live together. She attends all the summits. But there’s still no bond.”

“Maybe he’s not over the last one.”

“Or maybe she’s the one stalling.”

Someone scoffed. “He’s Alpha. If he wanted to mark her, he would’ve. She’s just convenient.

Chapter

The laugh that followed made my skin go cold.

They didn’t need to say her name.

They didn’t need to say mine, either.

But every word prickled my skin.

Then, one of the Luna’s looked at me. “Sister–in–law,” I heard the low whisper and more gazes turned in my direction.

Finally, one of the more bold Luna’s approached me. “You’re the sister–in–law to Andrei of Moonshadow, are you not?” she asked.

I nodded, swallowing thickly.

“Any idea what’s going on there?” she said, arching an eyebrow. “With he and his… fiancé?”

I gave the woman a warm smile that quickly faded. “I barely know the man,” I said, “We don’t socialize. If you’ll excuse me…”

I set the napkin down gently and walked away without another word. After all these years, even just hearing his name brought up feelings I wasn’t prepared to deal with.

***

By the time I was summoned to the meeting chamber, my smile had returned–sharp as a blade.

The antechamber was smaller, warmer. A fire crackled in a stone hearth against the far wall, the scent of burning pine curling in the air. Maps were laid across a long table. A single man stood at the head, hands clasped behind his back.

He turned when I entered.

“Alpha Romer,” I said with a respectful nod. “I’m Mira. I’ve been sent on behalf of Alpha Damon.

He looked me over. Not lecherously–analytically.

“We were expecting someone else,” he said bluntly.

“Damon was delayed,” I replied. “He entrusted me to speak in his place.

“You’re his Luna.”

“Yes.”

He watched me for a beat longer, then gave a tight nod.

“I see. That would have been useful to know earlier.”

“Apologies,” I said. “Our pack prefers discretion.”

“Discretion has its place,” he said, then added, “Unfortunately, in this case, things have changed.”

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