Crowned by the enemy Alpha

Training the Luna they never want

CHAPTER 4

LYRIA

The next morning, I’m awakened by pounding on my door before dawn. When I open it, a massive warrior stands in the hallway, his face set in a permanent scowl.

“Training grounds. Five minutes,” he grunts.

“Training grounds?”

“Alpha’s orders. Move.”

I throw on the simple clothes that were left in my wardrobe and follow him through corridors that are still dark and quiet. Outside, the air is crisp and cold, my breath forming clouds as we walk toward a large field behind the packhouse.

The training grounds are already bustling with activity. Warriors stretch and spar, their movements fluid and deadly. When they see me approaching, the noise dies down to whispers.

“She can’t even fight,” I hear someone mutter.

“Look at those stick arms. She’ll snap in half.”

“Why her? Why now?”

My cheeks burn with embarrassment, but I keep walking. I’ve heard worse. I’ve survived worse.

Kaelan stands at the center of it all, already dressed in training gear. When he sees me, he doesn’t smile or offer encouragement. He simply nods toward the group of warriors.

“From now on, you train with them,” he announces, his voice carrying across the field. “You want to be Luna of this pack? You’ll earn it.”

A ripple of shocked laughter runs through the crowd. Someone actually snorts.

“Alpha,” one of the council elders says, stepping forward. His face is red with indignation. “Surely you don’t mean—”

“I mean exactly what I said.” Kaelan’s voice drops to that dangerous tone I’m learning to recognize. “She is my Luna. Question her, and you question me.”

The elder backs down immediately, but I can see the anger in his eyes. The resentment. They think I’m beneath them, unworthy of their Alpha’s attention.

Maybe they’re right. But I’m here now, and I won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me quit.

The first day nearly kills me.

I’m thrown into combat training with warriors who have been fighting since they could walk. They don’t go easy on me because I’m small, or because I’m supposed to be their Luna. If anything, they hit harder.

A female warrior with short black hair and scars across her knuckles shoves me to the ground within the first ten minutes.

“Pathetic,” she sneers. “This is what passes for Luna material these days?”

I get back up. She knocks me down again.

“Stay down, little girl. Save yourself the embarrassment.”

But I don’t stay down. I can’t. Every time I hit the dirt, every time someone laughs or calls me weak, I think about that slave market. I think about my father selling me like livestock. I think about Damon’s rejection echoing in my ears.

I get back up.

By the end of the first week, I’m covered in bruises and my muscles scream with every movement. But I’m still standing. Still showing up every morning before dawn.

The warriors start to notice.

“She’s tougher than she looks,” I hear one of them say.

“Still can’t throw a decent punch, though.”

“Give her time. Rome wasn’t built in a day.”

The scarred female warrior—whose name I learn is Vera—starts offering small corrections to my form instead of just knocking me down. It’s not friendship, but it’s not open hostility either.

“Keep your guard up,” she tells me after a particularly brutal sparring session. “And stop telegraphing your moves. You might as well send them a written invitation.”

“Thank you,” I gasp, wiping blood from my split lip.

She shrugs. “Can’t have our Luna getting herself killed in her first real fight. Reflects poorly on all of us.”

It’s the closest thing to acceptance I’ve gotten from anyone here.

Kaelan watches it all from the sidelines, his face unreadable. He never intervenes when I’m getting beaten down. Never offers encouragement or praise. But his eyes follow my every movement, and I can feel his attention like a weight on my shoulders.

After two weeks of training, he calls me to his study.

“You’re progressing,” he says without preamble.

“I’m getting my ass kicked every day,” I reply, then immediately regret the crude language.

Something that might be amusement flickers in his eyes. “Yes. But you keep getting back up. That’s progress.”

He gestures to a chair across from his desk. “Sit. We’re going to try something different.”

“Different how?”

“You’ll be attending council meetings. Listening. Learning how this pack operates.”

My stomach drops. “I don’t think your council wants me there.”

“What they want is irrelevant. You’re going to be Luna. You need to understand the responsibilities that come with that title.”

The first council meeting is a disaster. The elders barely acknowledge my presence, speaking over me and around me like I’m furniture. When I try to ask a question they only rolls their eyes.

“Perhaps the Luna would be more comfortable discussing flower arrangements,” someone says with false sweetness.

Heat rises in my cheeks, but I force myself to remain calm. “I was actually wondering about the northern trade route. It seems like we’re losing a lot of time—and money—by going around the mountain pass instead of through it.”

“The pass is dangerous,” another elder dismisses. “Bandits. Rockslides. We’ve always gone around.”

“But what if we offered escort services to other packs using the route? We could charge a fee and make the pass safer for everyone.”

The room goes quiet. I can feel everyone staring at me, and I’m sure they’re about to laugh at my stupidity.

Instead, one of them leans forward with interest. “Explain.”

I take a shaky breath and launch into the idea that’s been forming in my head for days. A way to turn our security forces into a profit center while helping other packs and strengthening alliances.

When I finish, the room is silent for a long moment.

“It’s not a terrible idea,” he admits grudgingly.

“It’s actually quite clever,” another elder adds, sounding surprised.

I catch Kaelan’s eye across the table. For the first time since I’ve known him, he looks almost… proud.

The training gets easier after that. Not because the warriors go softer on me, but because I’m getting stronger. Faster. Smarter about when to dodge and when to take a hit.

Vera starts staying after sessions to give me extra instruction.

“You’re never going to be the strongest fighter,” she tells me bluntly. “But you’re quick, and you think three moves ahead. Use that.”

Some of the younger guards begin nodding respectfully when they see me in the halls. A few even smile.

In council meetings, my suggestions start carrying weight. When I propose changes to the supply chain that could save the pack hundreds of gold pieces, even Elder Marcus, the head Eldee has to admit I have a point.

“Where did you learn about logistics?” he asks, his tone more curious than dismissive now.

“My father was a merchant before he became a warrior,” I explain. “I used to help him with his books when I was young.”

It’s a small thing, but it humanizes me to them. I’m not just some weak girl their Alpha picked up on a whim. I have skills. I have value.

One month after my arrival, I’m sparring with a warrior twice my size when I finally land a solid hit. The impact reverberates up my arm, and he staggers back with genuine surprise.

The training ground erupts in cheers and applause.

“About time!” Vera shouts, grinning widely.

Even some of the elders who were watching nod approvingly.

But it’s Kaelan’s reaction that matters most. He’s standing at the edge of the field, and when our eyes meet, he inclines his head just slightly. It’s not a smile, but it’s acknowledgment.

Respect.

That night , the atmosphere is different. People actually talk to me instead of around me. They ask my opinion on pack matters. They include me in conversations about everything from patrol schedules to the upcoming harvest festival.

I’m not fully accepted yet—I can still see doubt in some faces, hear whispers when they think I’m not listening. But I’m not a joke anymore. I’m not the weak little girl they can dismiss without thought.

I’m becoming someone they have to take seriously.

Later, as I’m walking back to my quarters, I pass Kaelan’s study. The door is slightly open, and I can see him working at his desk, papers spread around him like a fortress.

He looks up as I pass, and for a moment, our eyes meet through the c***k in the door. Something passes between us—an understanding, maybe. A recognition that I’m not the same broken girl he bought at that slave market.

I’m becoming something else. Something stronger.

Something worthy of standing beside an Alpha.

“Goodnight, Alpha Kaelan,” I say softly.

“Goodnight, Luna,” he replies.

It’s the first time he’s called me that when we’re alone. The first time it sounds like he means it.