Bound by Fate, Torn by war(THE LUNA’S WAR)

Dante Rodrigo stood in the middle of the White Moon training grounds, his muscular form clad in black tactical gear. His fists clenched as he assessed the warriors sparring before him. The scent of sweat and blood filled the air as wolves in human form clashed, testing their strength under the watchful gaze of their Alpha.

He should have been focused on their performance, but his mind was elsewhere.

Tomorrow, he would stand before his pack and be forced to accept the possibility of a mate.

The thought made his blood boil.

"Again!" he barked, his voice echoing like a thunderclap. The sparring warriors instantly obeyed, snapping into formation, pushing their bodies harder.

A presence approached from behind, but he didn't need to turn to know it was Sage Woodlands, his Gamma.

"You're pushing them too hard, Alpha," Sage commented, his deep voice calm yet firm. "They've been at it for hours."

"They need to be stronger," Dante growled. "We are not just a pack. We are a kingdom of warriors. We do not bow. We do not break."

Sage sighed, running a hand through his shoulder-length brown hair. "They'll break if you push them past their limit."

Dante's jaw clenched. He knew Sage was right, but the frustration inside him burned hotter than ever. He could feel the pull of the coming full moon. His wolf, Zephyr, was restless, prowling inside his mind, agitated.

It wasn't just the ceremony.

Something else was coming. Something dangerous.

A scent carried on the wind—a mix of wildflowers and honey. A scent he had never smelled before.

Dante's entire body tensed. His heart thundered in his chest.

Zephyr snarled in his mind.

"Mate."

No. It couldn't be. He refused to believe it.

Dante spun around, his cold blue eyes scanning the area. The scent was faint, almost teasing. He turned back to Sage, his voice low.

"Who is in the healer's lodge right now?"

Sage frowned at the sudden question. "Just the usual healers. Bella Santos is leading them tonight."

Dante's blood ran ice-cold at the name.

Bella.

The pack's best healer. The most stubborn, independent, and infuriating woman he had ever met.

His wolf growled possessively at the mere thought of her.

"Mate," Zephyr whispered again.

Dante's fingers curled into fists. No. This was a mistake. A cruel joke by the Moon Goddess.

Bella Santos could not be his mate.

He would rather die than let fate control him.