CHAPTER 60: WHAT IT MEANS TO BE CHOSEN

Kaya

"Luna candidate?" I echo, my stomach tightening with a strange, unwelcome twist.Somehow, I’d convinced myself that Magnus couldn’t have anyone like that beside him.That someone so unreachable, so... sacred to me, would remain unattached.But of course, as always, I was simply delusional.

"Just like many other males," Samantha continues, oblivious to the quiet storm unraveling inside me, "Alpha Magnus hasn’t met his fated mate yet. So the King thinks he never will. Still, this pack needs a Luna—and Cecilia made the top of the list without even trying."

"But..." I begin cautiously, trying—and failing—to keep the sudden weight of sadness out of my voice. "She’s only a candidate, right? That means... there are others?"

Sam shoots me a look, her smile faint and knowing. "Trust me, at this point, all the others are just for show. Cecilia is the endgame. Good family, lots of money, flawless beauty, strong as hell... She’s the perfect Luna. Especially for someone like Magnus. They’re two peas in a pod."

"Oh..."

The more Samantha talks, the smaller I feel. Like I’m folding in on myself, shrinking beneath invisible hands.Why do I care this much? I shouldn’t.Maybe I am spoiled.Maybe I wanted to believe that no one was worthy of standing at Magnus’s side.That if he was untouchable, then... I wouldn’t have to confront how far below him I really am.

How selfish of me.Damn it, Damien really did mess with my head.

"Why is she already here, though?" Sam’s voice cuts through my spiraling thoughts. "The birthday party isn’t until next week."

"Birthday party?" I blink at her, startled. "For whom?"

"Alpha Magnus, of course!" Sam swats my shoulder like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

"What?" I practically shout. "And when exactly were you planning on telling me this?"

Sam winces, laughing awkwardly as she twists one of her braids around her fingers like a nervous habit. "Sorry, sorry! I thought you already knew!"

I frown but don’t argue. The truth is, even after everything, I’m still not fully woven into the fabric of this pack’s life—not like the others. I’m here, but only on the edges.Still... damn.

"It’s too dark," Sam mutters, steering us back to the original reason we came out here. "But once you see her, you’ll get it."

Ugh. And we’re back to Cecilia again.

My eyes narrow as I try to make out the shadowy figures approaching in the distance. They move in a deliberate formation, like guards flanking a VIP—or rather, a tall and slender celebrity.

Even in the dim light, the way she carries herself says enough. Graceful. Confident. Radiant.I don’t need to see her face to know she’s beautiful. Samantha was right.Maybe they are meant for each other.

So why does that thought sink like lead in my stomach?Why does it burn?

Damn it.

***

My conversation with Samantha haunts me well into the night, leaving me staring at the ceiling in restless silence. When my alarm finally pierces the stillness of my room, I nearly hurl it against the wall.I’m not just tired—I’m grumpy, dangerously close to snapping.But deep down, I know it’s not because I didn’t sleep.

I suck in a breath, forcing the irritation down as I drag myself out of bed and into the bathroom for a hot shower.

There’s no training session with Sam today, and given the presence of our newly-arrived guests... I doubt there’ll be one with Magnus either.

Fine, I grumble inwardly as I twist the faucet and let the hot water cascade over me. I’ll eat something sweet for breakfast and camp out in the library for the rest of the day.All I can do is hope Ray isn’t experimenting with anything too weird in the kitchen. Today, I need comfort food—not another surprise soup with antler powder or whatever he calls "fusion cuisine."

When I finally make my way downstairs, the dining hall is already buzzing with life.It’s unusually crowded—practically the whole pack has gathered, which is rare. Normally, no matter the time, I barely catch even half of them in the same place.

"Can’t wait to see her," one of the guys mutters as he walks past me, flanked by his equally eager friends. "How long’s it been since her last visit? Three years? Bet she looks even hotter now."

"Hey, cut it out," his friend elbows him hard in the ribs, causing him to nearly drop his plate. "If she ends up becoming our Luna, she’ll butterfly you like a shrimp for saying that."

"Doesn’t matter," the first one shrugs, grinning. "I love feisty women. It’d be an honor to die at her hands."

They all laugh, but I can only cringe.

I haven’t even seen her yet, and I already hate how jealous I feel. Was that how Damien’s ’mates’ felt about me, too?

I’d had some time to think things over.

Back in Dark Wood, I knew I was special. No matter what happened, I was Damien’s favorite. That meant something. It gave me a sense of stability, a shield of confidence. I never had to question my place.But here... here I am nobody. Weak. Talentless. Ordinary.Here, I have to earn my place.

But her? She’s already done it.

"Why is everyone drooling over her anyway?" I tilt my head slightly, catching the edge of Gloria’s voice—sharp and bitter, followed by a disapproving click of her tongue. "Acting like they’re all in heat today just because of one privileged bitch."

"Shh!" her friend hisses, pressing a finger to her lips in warning. "Come on, you can’t talk about her like that! She’s going to be our Luna."

"She’s just a candidate," Gloria snaps back, scowling. "If I put my name in the candidate pool, will they all pee their pants every time I walk by, too?"

They exchange a knowing smirk, but their jealousy doesn’t comfort me. If anything, it makes me feel worse.What does it mean to be a Luna candidate, anyway? What does it mean... to be chosen?

"Hey," someone whispers behind me, "they’re coming."

I snap around, heart lurching, eyes scanning the crowd for Magnus and his mysterious guest.It feels like everyone else can see them—like the world is moving around me—but I remain blind.Then I spot them.

They’re not heading toward the general dining hall. They’re walking elsewhere, away from the crowd. But it’s not their direction that stings.

It’s her.

Tall. Elegant. Poised.She wears a tight mini skirt and a blouse that clings to her in all the right places, her golden hair cascading like it belongs on the cover of a luxury fashion magazine.Cecilia is stunning—painfully so. She looks like she was sculpted to be an Alpha’s Luna.

The sly, foxy look. The elegance in every step. The effortless way she draws every gaze in the room like a magnet.She was made for the male gaze—and every male here is obliging, staring at her as if their lives depend on it.

And then I see him.

Magnus walks beside her, tall and composed, strong and devastatingly handsome as always. His dark curls are pulled into a messy bun at the nape of his neck, the way I secretly like them best. He doesn’t look at her, not directly—but there’s no tension in his expression. He speaks to her with ease, his movements calm, and every now and then, he throws her a fleeting smile in response to something she says.

Time seems to freeze, trapping me in this exact moment—forced to stand here and watch them together, as if this scene was carved into eternity.

The seconds stretch painfully long. And then, it happens. One small movement.

Magnus’s hand slips to the small of her back. Gentle. Familiar.

He smiles at her again, soft and effortless.

And I wish...I wish he would smile at me like that.