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

The moment Dante's icy blue eyes met Bella's golden-brown ones, the world shifted.

The healer's lodge, the warriors watching, the very air around them—it all became irrelevant.

The mate bond surged between them, a wild force that crackled like fire and lightning in his veins. It was primal, relentless, an invisible tether that commanded him to claim her, to protect her, to make her his.

And yet, all he felt was rage.

Dante Rodrigo had built his life on control. He ruled White Moon Park with an iron will and ruthless discipline. He was feared, respected, obeyed without question.

But this?

This was chaos. This was disorder.

And Dante did not allow disorder in his world.

The pull toward Bella was like an invisible chain around his throat, tightening with every breath. His wolf, Zephyr, howled inside his head, his beast raging, demanding he take what was his.

But Dante resisted.

He refused to fall victim to a curse disguised as fate.

His expression hardened, his jaw locking tight as he forced the words from his throat, his voice razor-sharp and merciless.

"This changes nothing."

The lodge fell into stunned silence.

The air between them grew thick with unspoken violence, the kind that came from a battle neither of them had chosen but were now doomed to fight.

Bella, standing in the middle of the healer's lodge, held his gaze without a flicker of fear. Her golden-brown eyes burned with a mix of defiance and something dangerously close to pain—though he knew she would rather die than show it.

Dante clenched his fists at his sides, willing himself to ignore the fact that her scent—wildflowers and honey—was already seeping into his skin, invading his senses.

"Reject her," Zephyr growled in his mind. "Do it now."

Dante's stomach twisted. He knew what he had to do. He had to sever this bond before it consumed him.

But for the first time in his life, he hesitated.

Why?

Because deep in his chest, his wolf refused to let him.

Bella's lips parted slightly, but when she spoke, her voice was nothing but ice.

"Good," she said, her tone mocking. "Because I would rather die than belong to you."

A cold smirk pulled at the corner of her lips, but Dante could see the truth behind it.

She felt the pull just as much as he did.

She felt the pain just as much as he did.

And yet, she would fight it.

A growl rumbled in Dante's chest before he could stop it. The warriors standing around them tensed in fear, sensing the storm building between their Alpha and his fated mate.

Sage Woodlands, his Gamma, took a cautious step forward. "Alpha…"

Dante shot him a glare so sharp it could cut through steel. Sage immediately backed down, but his expression remained wary.

Bella, however, didn't back down. She never had.

And that was what infuriated him the most.

She wasn't afraid of him.

Where other wolves lowered their gazes and submitted, Bella stood her ground—even as the air crackled with dominance around Dante, pressing down like a heavy storm.

"You're making a mistake," Dante said, his voice dangerously low. "You don't get to choose fate, Bella."

Her golden-brown eyes blazed with fury.

"And neither do you, Alpha," she snapped. "You think you can control everything, but guess what? You can't control me."

The words hit him like a punch to the gut, because deep down, he knew she was right.

The pull between them wasn't something he could command. It wasn't something he could force into submission.

It was stronger than him. Stronger than both of them.

And that made him hate it even more.

Bella took a slow, deliberate step toward him. The warriors around them held their breath, watching in stunned silence as she dared to challenge her Alpha.

"You think rejecting me will make this go away?" she murmured, tilting her head slightly. "It won't. You'll still feel me. Every second of every day. And it will drive you insane."

Dante's breath came out in short, harsh exhales.

"She's right," Zephyr snarled. "You can't fight this forever."

But Dante didn't care.

He would fight it.

He would rather burn in hell than let the Moon Goddess dictate his fate.

"Watch me," he snarled.

With one last glare, he turned and stormed out of the healer's lodge, his heart pounding against his ribs like a war drum.

The moment the door slammed shut behind him, he shifted into his massive black wolf, running into the dark forest.

Running from the one thing he could never truly escape.