The Alpha's Fighter Luna

Danica's POV

“You ought to be a he-wolf,” Leah muttered with a short laugh, flipping her golden curls over her shoulder as she leaned against the dresser.

I rolled my eyes, the sharp edge of my blade glinting under the candlelight as I dragged it across the whetstone. Shhhk. Shhhk. The sound was far more soothing than the chaotic laughter and music drifting up from the ballroom below. "Mates are a weakness," I said flatly.

Leah gasped dramatically, clutching her chest. "Blasphemy! How dare you insult the Moon Goddess's grand design?"

I gave her a look. "Save the theatrics."

She turned, fully facing me, hands on her hips. "You’re telling me that if your fated mate was down there, strong and powerful, waiting for you, you wouldn’t care?"

"If he exists, he’ll be disappointed," I replied, testing the edge of my blade. Sharp. Perfect. Just how I liked it. "I don't need a mate."

Leah groaned, flopping onto my bed. "Ugh, Danica, you are impossible."

I smirked. "You’re only realizing this now?"

She tossed a pillow at me. "You know, you could at least go down there for a little bit. Just to look."

"Not interested."

She let out an exaggerated sigh. "You are so frustrating. One day, you’ll eat those words."

"Maybe," I said, sheathing my sword. "But not tonight."

Leah sat up, shaking her head. "Fine, fine. Be a stubborn she-wolf. But don’t come crying to me when the Moon Goddess decides to humble you."

I smirked. "Noted."

She huffed as she stood, smoothing the silver gown that hugged her curves. "Well, I’m going to the ball. Unlike some people, I enjoy tradition."

I lifted a brow. "You just like the attention."

"Damn right," she said with a wink. "Now, try not to stab anyone while I’m gone."

"No promises."

Leah laughed before disappearing out the door, leaving the scent of her floral perfume lingering in the air.

Finally. Silence.

I exhaled, rolling my shoulders before tightening the straps of my boots. The Mating Ball was a spectacle—an event designed to bring together unmated wolves from different packs, all eager to find their fated mates. It was tradition. Sacred, even.

To me, it was a distraction.

I strapped my sword to my back and slipped out of my room, heading toward the training grounds. The cool night air wrapped around me, carrying the distant hum of conversation and the faint melody of the ballroom music.

But then I heard the Thud Thud Thud sound. The unmistakable sound of fists striking a punching bag echoed through the crisp night air.

I frowned. Who else would be training at this hour?

As I rounded the corner, my breath hitched slightly.