Don''t Poke the Luna


    Xena''s POV


    "I know, babe." Ryder gently stroked my back, his touch both tender and soothing.


    "How many terms of endearment are you going to try?" I asked, the corner of my mouth lifting slightly.


    “None of them feel quite right for you," Ryder. murmured, his eyes shining with concentration.


    "Finally, let''s wee Xena and her mate, the future Alpha of the Boneash Pack, Ryder Nash!


    At the announcer''s introduction, Ryder and I stepped out to the loudest cheers of the evening. Blinding lights illuminated us as we waved and walked down the red carpet. I could clearly hear the whispers about my dress rippling through the crowd.


    "That dress!"


    "So beautiful!"


    "Oh my god! I love her gown!"


    "It''s a fuck you'' work of art."


    Thestment made meugh internally. Yes, that was exactly the effect I''d wanted. I''d chosen to make a statement on this important night, letting them all see a confident, powerful future Luna.


    My heart pounded wildly in my chest, a mix of nerves and excitement. We continued down the red carpet, with Dad and Martha seated in the middle, Logan and Penelope moving to the left, while Ryder and I moved to the right.


    Finally, I could see the entire room. Other ranked wolves sat in the front rows. Far on the right side was Tatum with his high-ranking wolves. His gaze pierced me like a dagger, and when our eyes met, a chill ran down my spine. I quickly looked away, focusing on the announcer''s instruction.


    "Dinner will now be served. Please enjoy."


    At themand, everyone sat down, and servers emerged with food. Ryder helped me into my seat before sitting down himself. Thank God my father was seated next to me; his presence provided somefort.


    "What would you like to drink, Luna Xena?" I recognized him as member of my father''s pack.


    "Dr. Pepper with whiskey, please."


    "And for you, Alpha Ryder?"


    "Whiskey on the rocks."


    "Thank you," I said, watching as he turned to my father.


    The server ced down a te of smoked turkey, roasted asparagus, and a generous heap of creamy mashed potatoes. The aroma of all the food wafted up, making my mouth water.


    "Looks good, Ryder said quietly to me.


    It really does," I agreed, taking a bite of turkey. The rich juices flowed down my throat, making me hum with satisfaction.


    "Please don''t make those moahing sounds or I''ll lose control," Ryder whispered in my ear, his voice so low no one else could hear.


    "I''ll save it forter," I shot back, taking another bite.


    "You''re such a-" Ryder was about to say when our drinks arrived.


    "Thank you." I took a sip, feeling the alcohol slide smoothly down my throat. Way too easy to drink.


    A photographer came by to take pictures of us as a couple, then moved on. Throughout, people kepting up either wishing me happy birthday or congratting us on our mating. By the time my te was half empty, I was just pushing food around. Next came the cake cutting and first dance, but what I really looked forward to was the party afterward, when the DJ would really turn it up.


    Ryder leaned back in his chair, draping his arm over mine and crossing his ankle over his knee. When I leaned back too, he pulled my chair closer.


    "What would help you rx?" Ryder asked through our mind link.


    I grabbed the whiskey and took arge swig, the heat of the alcohol helping me unwind slightly. "Not sitting here would be good."


    "Youngdy! Sit up straight at the dinner table and show some manners!" Martha hissed across my father, her controlling nature making me mentally roll my eyes. “Ladies and gentlemen, it''s time to cut the cake!" Logan stood up announcing.


    He gave Martha a smile that infuriated her even more, then came around to me. I let Ryder hold my drink as I epted Logan''s outstretched hand. We walked over to the cake table. Logan picked up the knife and handed it to me. I shook my head, so he began cutting.


    He cut a small piece. But when he pulled out the cake, I saw it was lemon vored. I absolutely hate lemon cake. Taking a deep breath, I decided not to make a scene. Logan frowned, looking toward Dad. Following his gaze, I saw Martha sporting a bright smile. This was clearly her little trick to create a small disappointment on my birthday.


    "I almost forgot!" Dad suddenly said loudly. He held up a finger and ran off the stage. Logan and I were both confused until Dad came back with a smaller all- chocte cake with big digits representing my age.


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