You Needed a Perfect Luna, So I Stopped Dying for You

The silver surface of the Moonstone caught the first gray light of dawn, cold and unresponsive beneath my trembling hands.

The annual Moon Blessing had ended hours ago, but the ritual chamber still smelled of burned cedar, melted wax, and stagnant ozone. My packmates were already back in their beds, resting comfortably under the fresh surge of prosperity and protection I had drawn down from the skies for them.

I was the only one left to clean the altar.

I dragged a damp cloth across the stone, wiping away the remnants of consecrated salt and dried ceremonial oils. A sudden, sharp stitch caught in the center of my ribs.

I paused, pressing a palm to my chest.

Before I could draw another breath, a violent convulsion seized my lungs. The cough tore through my throat so fiercely that my knees hit the flagstones.

A heavy spatter of dark, hot crimson sprayed across the sacred Moonstone.

My stomach dropped. Shivering, I pulled a linen handkerchief from my pocket and frantically scrubbed the silver relic until not a single drop of my blood remained on its polished face. Only then did I press the cloth to my lips, muffling the wet, ragged gasps that followed.

When the spasm finally passed, I folded the stained fabric and shoved it deep into the cuff of my sleeve.

It was happening more often now. Over the past twelve months, the warning signs had piled up quietly: sudden dizzy spells that forced me to grip doorframes, relentless insomnia, and the terrifying, heavy silence inside my mind where my wolf used to pace.

*You’re just exhausted,* I had told myself every single morning. *Being Rowan’s Luna is demanding. You just need to push through.*

I forced myself up, leaning against the cold pillar until the room stopped spinning.

I couldn't ignore it anymore.

***

The pack clinic was quiet when I slipped through the side entrance. Miriam, our oldest healer, was already grinding dried roots at her workbench. The moment she turned and saw me, the wooden pestle slipped from her fingers, clattering onto the counter.

"Sit," she said immediately, her voice sharp with alarm. "You look like a corpse, Selene."

"The ceremony ran long," I said, taking a seat on the leather examination table. "I just need a tonic for the fatigue."

Miriam didn't answer. She placed two fingers against my inner wrist, closing her eyes as her diagnostic energy hummed through my veins.

Seconds ticked by. The healer’s expression shifted from professional focus to pale, unmasked dread. She pulled her hand back as if my skin had scorched her.

"How long have you felt like this?" Miriam demanded, her voice dropping to a whisper.

"A few months," I lied quietly. "Maybe six."

"Don't lie to me." Miriam grabbed a silver gauge from her tray, pricking my fingertip to measure the residual power in my blood. When the dial settled, the glowing rune barely flickered. "Your wolf's core is down to under forty percent. Do you understand what that means?"

A cold weight settled in my gut. "Miriam—"

"It means your beast is starving," the old healer said, stepping closer. "She is shutting down to keep your physical organs functioning. If you undergo another major ritual or allow another massive power draw, your wolf will vanish permanently. You won't survive the severance."

"That's impossible," I said, my voice shaking. "The Moon Blessing takes energy, yes, but the Luna's wellspring always regenerates. It’s an honor to channel the pack’s wards."

Miriam stared at me, her eyes filled with a grief so profound it made my throat tighten. She looked over her shoulder toward the locked door, then walked to a heavy iron cabinet in the corner of the room. She unlocked the bottom drawer and pulled out a faded, leather-bound folder.

She walked back and shoved it into my hands.

"What is this?" I asked.

"Your mother's private medical record," Miriam whispered. "The real one. Not the sanitized version the council archived."

My fingers went numb against the worn leather.

I opened the cover. The name *Elara* was written in faded black ink across the top. As I flipped through the brittle pages, my heart hammered violently against my ribs.

*Year 6 as Luna: Patient reports sudden hemoptysis following the Solstice channeling. Core body temperature dropping below normal range.*

*Year 7: Wolf presence receding. Severe cellular degradation. Patient unable to complete partial shift.*

*Year 8: Repeated lung hemorrhages. Core reserves depleted beyond recovery.*

Every single symptom mirrored mine down to the exact detail.

I turned to the final entries, my eyes darting across the dates. The steep downward plunges in my mother’s vitality hadn't been random. Every single collapse had been logged within forty-eight hours of a major pack ceremony.

After her final Moon Ceremony, she had survived for only eleven months.

The council had always told the pack that my mother died of a rare, hereditary illness. They called it an unfortunate genetic weakness that struck her down in her prime.

They had lied.

My mother hadn't been sick. The pack had drained her dry. The ceremonial bonds that tied the Luna to the territory weren't just channeling spiritual favor—they were siphoning her life force directly into the pack's foundation stones.

And now, Rowan was letting them do the exact same thing to me.

***

The clock over the fireplace struck ten when the bedroom door finally swung open.

Rowan walked in, shedding his heavy wool coat. He looked radiant, his golden Alpha aura buzzing with fresh vitality from the morning’s success. He carried the sharp scent of winter pine and victory, his dark eyes bright with ambition.

He didn't notice how pale I was. He didn't notice the way I kept one hand pressed firmly against the edge of the vanity to stop myself from trembling.

"The council elders from the northern territories just left," Rowan said, pouring himself two fingers of amber whiskey from the decanter. "They were impressed, Selene. The wards along the eastern border are stronger than they’ve been in three decades."

"That's good," I murmured, my voice raspy.

He turned toward me, a broad, triumphant smile spreading across his face. "It's more than good. It puts us in prime position for the Northern Alpha coalition. If we secure the regional seat, our pack controls the entire valley."

He set his glass down and walked over, placing his large, warm hands on my shoulders.

"Which is why we need to double our efforts," he continued, his tone brimming with excitement. "The Blood Moon Ceremony is in two months. I told the elders we would expand the ritual circle to include the outlying settlements."

A sharp ringing started in my ears. "Expand it? Rowan, channeling power for the inner valley nearly tore my core apart this morning. Extending the radius to the outer borders would require twice as much energy."

"And you can handle it," he said smoothly, brushing a thumb across my cheek without truly looking at the hollows beneath my eyes. "The elders need to see a display of absolute strength. If our wards cover the entire northern ridge, no one can challenge my claim to lead."

"Rowan, please listen to me," I said, my chest tightening as fear clawed up my throat. "My wolf is weakening. I can't take another draw like that so soon. I need time to recover."

Rowan gave a light, dismissive chuckle, leaning down to press a brief, distracted kiss to my forehead.

"You're just tired from today," he said, stepping back and heading toward the bathroom. "Get some sleep tonight. You'll be fine by next week. You've always been the strongest Luna I know."

The bathroom door clicked shut, followed by the sound of running water.

I stood frozen in the quiet bedroom, his words echoing in the empty air.

*The strongest Luna I know.*

For five years, I had worn that title like armor, starving my body and silencing my wolf to fuel his climb to power. I had believed his praise was love.

I looked down at my shaking hands, remembering the dark blood on the Moonstone and the final dates in my mother's chart.

The truth was laid bare in front of me, cold and absolute.

If I do this again, I die.