The Broken Luna Mated to the Crippled Alpha
Sam Nixon
Introduction
"I, Lucien Vine, once alpha of this great Clawhold, take this...Woman." He started his vow, his pause deliberate as he glanced at Aria, "To be the Luna of my house. I vow no love, no care. Just duty and nothing else."
"And you, Aria Thorne?" he drawled, his speech coming out slurred, "Do you accept – "
"I do." Aria replied quickly. Too quickly.
Aria Thorne was born into a pack that treated her like dirt beneath their paws. Born as a StillBlood, she was mocked, beaten, and branded "broken."
Her only chance at escape? A forced marriage to a fallen Alpha whose scars ran deeper than flesh.
Lucien Vine was once a man of legend. A ruthless warrior. A king among Alphas. Now he's a shadow, crippled and discarded by the very pack he once led and bled for.
Lucien saw nothing but another chain when the new alpha forced him to wed a StillBlood. She was nothing more than one more curse.
However, fate has a perverse sense of humor. Because the Broken Luna possesses a hidden ability that she is unaware of, and the only person who might be able to awaken it is the Crippled Alpha.
Will they ruin one another? Or rise together and set the world on fire?
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About Author
Sam Nixon
Chapter 1
WARNING!
This book contains graphic depictions of sex, violence, emotional and physical abuse, trauma, and mature themes intended for adult audiences.
This will be the only warning provided.
The music filled the halls, the drums, the laughter, the celebration. All of it was for her. The broken Luna. The Stillblood. The cursed.
As a Stillblood, Aria was cursed by the moon goddess to never be able to shift. It was a condition so rare that it was regarded as a myth by most Clawholds until she came along.
Aria stood in the center of the engagement celebration like a porcelain doll. In front of her was a large table filled with drinks and food. Even though this celebration was supposedly for her, she was not permitted to sit at the table. She was only allowed to stand beside it.
There were no chains on her wrists, not today at least. But she was as trapped as she ever was. Her gaze was down, her fists clenched tightly beside her. She shifted her gaze around, trying to spot if anyone was looking at her. She did not dare to raise her head, lest she receive another beating.
Pain filled her body and her mind. It was only with intense focus that Aria had not broken down yet. She shifted her weight on to her other foot and winced, her eyes widened in panic, and she quickly gulped. Her watery eyes darted around to see if anyone noticed her wince. To see if anyone noticed her moment of weakness.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that her cry of pain had not been spotted. Her body ached all over from all the bruises that were left over from the previous night. She shifted her weight again to the other foot. This time, she was able to stifle the wince before it could come out.
She looked down on herself, on the crimson silk dress that they had stuffed her with. The dress hung tightly to her skin and her scars. Beneath her dress, the long diagonal scar across her shoulder blade throbbed with pain.
"Dance Aria, Dance." Someone screamed, their voice piercing through the celebrations.
"You are the guest of honor. Aren't you?" Another sneered,
Temporarily, the entire focus of the party once again focused on her. She shivered and tried to make herself as small as she could.
Aria turned slowly, her gaze picking up her half-brother and heir to the clan, Ronan, who was holding up a half-empty goblet of wine. He was drunk of power and wine, he had a permanent sneer on the corner of his lips as he toasted all his friends. He noticed her gaze and winked.
Besides him, Lyra, Ronan's twin, also noticed Aria's gaze. She twirled a strand of her raven-black hair, a slight curve on the corner of her lips.
"You'll make such a perfect bride Aria." She purred mockingly, "Drink up."
The entire table erupted in laughter, their sharp mocking gazes making Aria almost bawl her eyes out.
She couldn't breathe. The air in the room weighed down on her. Laughter filled the hall, but none of this was real. This wasn't a celebration, this was a funeral. Hers.
With bated breaths, she took a step backwards, her eyes darted across the table to see if anyone noticed her. No one did, so she took another step backwards. Inch by inch, she moved slowly towards the servant's door by the side of the hallway.
She breathed a sigh of relief when she realized that she was once again unseen and unwatched. They had turned their attentions to far more interesting things than a cursed and broken thing like her. Her cursed presence was only needed there for comedic relief, nothing more.
She reached the Servant's door and pushed it open. Her gaze darted across the hall one last time, before she opened the door and rushed inside. After closing the door behind her, the tension left her body, her breathing stable now that she was no longer in the presence of that bastard.
"Now," Aria thought, her fists clenched as she gathered her courage. "Run, Now."
The servant's pathway through the castle was a labyrinth of different caverns, a labyrinth that Aria knew well. With silent, soft steps, Aria slipped away like a ghost, her pulse raced the farther she got away from the castle. She took winding turns, slipping unnoticed as she tried to avoid anyone she met.
Twice, she was almost caught by the servants going about their business. She passed through the cold narrow hallway lined with stone lamps and portraits of ancestors who would all turn in their graves and curse the moon goddess if they met her.
She glanced at the images of her ancestors and spat at them. She was a disgrace to the clan, a stillblood, and they and their descendants had made her life a living hell. The walls seemed to become more narrow the closer she got to the outskirts of the castle, but she didn't stop. She couldn't stop.
She knew she was broken and cursed, but she was never going to allow herself to be sold off like cattle. Her silver-blonde hair fell on her head and she brushed it off.
She reached the rear door of the long winding hallway, and smiled. She could smell her freedom. With trembling fingers, she started shuffling through the sole pockets in the stuffy dress that her half-siblings had forced her to wear.
Her heart raced, the sound pounding like a warning drum to her ears the longer she took. When she finally felt the cold hard feel of raw steel, she breathed a sigh of relief.
Without stopping, she quickly fished out the set of keys. Her gaze snapped towards the longest key of the bunch and, with a smile on her face, she slipped the key into the keyhole and turned.
CLICK!
The large door swung open, and the icy wind pushed her back with a sudden rush of wind.
Aria stopped, her breath hitched as she stared at the beautiful scene in front of her. The snowy mountains of her Clawhold were breathtaking.
She took a deep breath, marveling at the challenge that she was about to undertake. That was the sweetest breath she had ever taken in her life.
She took a step forward and her foot landed in the snow. She took another step, savoring the feeling of the wind on her face, before she broke into a grin and ran.
Thorns pierced through her soles, their sharp bristles tearing through her naked feet, large thick branches clawed at her arms, all trying to stop her, to hinder her in her quest for freedom.
Her muscles screamed, and her heart pounded within her chest.
Aria ignored them, she was not going to let a little pain stop her from getting what she had always wanted. Freedom.
She ran faster.
She was almost free.
She could almost taste it.
The moment she passed through the treeline that separated her Clawhold from the wilderness. She burst into laughter.
Then –
"Leaving so soon, Big Sis?"
Aria skidded to a stop, her breath stopped.
Her eyes narrowed and, with trembling hands, she turned around to face the tree lines.
From behind the trees, Lyra stepped out. The sharp soft rays of the moonlight showcased her beautiful angles. She was beautiful, deadly and full of venom. She had a sinister gleam in her eyes.
Aria took a step back.
Lyra smiled, her eyes taking in the fear in her half-sister's face.
"Oh my God. You almost made it." She chuckled, "You know we had a bet on if you were going to try to escape, right? And guess what? I won."
She laughed harder, her words cutting through Aria's confidence.
"I can't believe you actually thought we'd let you leave. Or did you?"
"No… no.. I wasn't." Aria lied, her words coming out in a stutter,
"I know you want freedom Aria," Lyra said, smirking. At unnatural speed, she rushed forward.
She reached Aria and grabbed her by her hand. "But you don't deserve freedom, Aria. You don't deserve anything other than what we give you. You are Stillblood Aria. Always remember that."
Aria shook her head, "Please, just let me-"
SMACK!
Aria did not see when her sister lifted her hand nor when she slapped her. One moment, she was standing in front of her sister, the next, she was flying through the air. Her weak body smashed through trees as her sister backhanded her back through the treeline.
She lay there on the forest floor, too stunned and broken to move.
With slow steps, Lyra walked over to her half-sister. She bent down and smirked at her. "You are not a wolf," she spat, "You are a thing. Cursed, Useless. Broken. You are a charity case. Know your place and maybe you can live."
After saying that, she spat at her broken sister and walked away, her footsteps fading in the background as she left.
Aria didn't cry.
She couldn't.
Because deep within, some hidden part of her agreed with her half-sister.
She was nothing more than a girl with a dead mother and a cursed bloodline. A girl who could never shift, never fight, never live.
She was broken and she knew it.
She lay there on the snow, her eyes open and lifeless as she accepted her fate.
She was going to get sold off, whether she liked it or not.
The snow fell on her. Cold, heavy, merciless.
Just like the world that caged her.
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He turns—and runs.
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About Author
Sam Nixon
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