Rejected Luna Queen

Nolan’s POV

I found myself mulling over the events of the early morning as paced my chamber. The dawn had barely broken when I quietly slipped out of Nesta’s bed, careful not to wake her.

She looked so peaceful, her breathing soft and even. I had made sure she was completely exhausted before I decided to take her back to her room.

The decision to carry her back was not one I made lightly. It felt like a necessary move to draw a clear line between us. What we had shared the night before had been intense, almost too intimate.

I couldn’t allow emotions to blur the boundaries I was trying to set. Nesta was supposed to be my mistress, a physical outlet for the needs ignited by our cursed mating bond, nothing more.

I carefully lifted her from the bed, her head lolled gently against my chest, her hair spilling over my arm like a dark waterfall.

I couldn’t help but brush a stray strand away from her face, my fingers lingering on her soft skin. She stirred slightly but didn’t wake her trust in that moment almost painful to bear.

I carried her through the dimly lit corridors, each step a reminder of the distance I was trying to maintain between us.

When I reached her room, I laid her down on her bed, tucking the covers around her. She murmured something in her sleep, a soft, incoherent sound that tugged at something deep within me.

I forced myself to ignore it, to focus on the task at hand. This was for the best. Emotions had no place in this arrangement. She was my mistress, and that was all there was to it.

Leaving her room, I felt a heaviness settle in my chest. Was I doing the right thing? The lines between duty and desire were becoming increasingly blurred, and it was getting harder to remember why I had made this decision in the first place.

The memory of her body against mine, the way she responded to my touch, haunted me. It was intoxicating, and I knew it was dangerous.

Back in my own chamber, I paced restlessly. This was not supposed to happen. I was supposed to keep my distance, to maintain control. But every time I saw her, every time I touched her, that resolve weakened.

I had to remind myself that this was about the bond, about the primal need that neither of us could deny. It wasn’t about love or affection. Those things were dangerous, distracting.

The memory of her eyes, filled with a mix of confusion and hurt when I had suggested she become my mistress, replayed in my mind.

I had expected anger, even defiance, but the vulnerability I saw in her eyes caught me off guard. It made me question everything.

Was I pushing her too far? Was I using the bond as an excuse to keep her close when I should be letting her go?

But then, the thought of her with Luca, of her carrying another man’s child, fueled my determination. I couldn’t let her go. She was mine, bound to me by the mating bond, and I would do whatever it took to keep her close.

Emotions be damned. This was about control, about maintaining order in a world that was spinning out of control.

I sat on the edge of my bed, head in my hands, I knew that I was treading a dangerous path. The line between duty and desire was thin, and I was dangerously close to crossing it.

But for now, I would keep telling myself that this was the right thing to do. Nesta was my mistress, and that was the only way I could allow myself to think of her.

No matter how much my heart protested, I would keep her at arm’s length. I had to. For both our sakes.

The next morning, I found myself standing before my wardrobe, methodically selecting my attire for the day. The cabinet meeting with Rowan, and the Queen Mother, required a certain level of formality and poise.

I chose a tailored suit, it’s dark fabric exuding authority and control, qualities I desperately needed to project, especially after the turmoil of the previous night.

As I buttoned up the crisp white shirt and adjusted the collar, I couldn’t shake the lingering thoughts of Nesta. The memory of her soft skin, the warmth of her body against mine, it was all too vivid.

I shook my head, trying to clear my mind. This was not the time to be distracted. There were pressing matters at hand. issues that affected the entire pack, and I needed to be fully present.

1 fastened the tie with practised precision, its deep blue colour a stark contrast against the white shirt. It was a ritual, a way to armour myself for the responsibilities ahead. I slid on the jacket, smoothing down the lapels, and took a deep breath.

The man in the mirror stared back at me, composed and resolute, yet there was a shadow in his eyes, a trace of the inner conflict I was struggling to concealText property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

With a final glance in the mirror, I turned and left my chamber, my footsteps echoing through the corridors of the palace.

The weight of leadership settled on my shoulders, a familiar bunden, but one that felt heavier today. The meeting room was at the end of the hall, its grand doors standing tall and imposing I pushed them open and stepped inside.

Rowan was already there, his presence commanding as always. The Alpha King’s aura filled the room, a blend of authority and compassion that made him the leader he was

Our mother, the Queen Mother, sat beside him, her regal bearing a constant reminder of the legacy we upheld. They both looked up as I entered their expressions a mix of expectation and concer

“Good morning.” I greeted them, my voice steady despite the turmoil within

Rowan nodded, his sharp eyes assessing weird. “Good morning. We have much to discuss today”

I took my seat, feeling the weight of their gazes on me. The meeting began, a whirlwind of reports and strategies, each topic more critical than the last. But no matter how hard I tried to focus, my mind kept drifting back to Nesta

The decisions we made here would shape the future of our pack yet the personal turmoil I faced felt equally monumental.

As the discussions continued. I forced myself to engage fully, to push aside the distractions. This was my duty, my responsibility. The needs of the pack came first, and I couldn’t afford to let personal feelings interfere.

Yet, even as I spoke, made decisions, and strategized, a part of the remained tethered to the events of the previous night, to the woman who now occupied so much of my thoughts.

The meeting was long, the weight of our decisions heavy. But through it all, I maintained my composure, presenting the image of a leader in control

faside, however, the struggle continued, a battle between duty and desire, responsibility and emotion

As the meeting strew to a close, I couldn’t help but wonder how long I could keep these worlds separate, how long I could maintain this delicate balance