Dante's POV
"You need another Luna," Mr. Monroe cleared his throat, his voice was harsh, a reminder of the pressure I was under.
"I don't need another Luna," I retorted, my patience wearing thin.
"This is not negotiable, Your Majesty. Other packs have started—"
"I don't care!" I slammed my hands on the table, the force shook the room, making everyone flinch. "You can't tell me when I should get a Luna or not."
"The security of our pack is jeopardized," Mr. Monroe continued, undeterred by my outburst. "Other Alphas are seeing you as unfit. They've started asking questions about why you haven't given them a date for your mating ceremony. We can't tell them that your mate was meant to kill you."
As much as I hated to admit it, Mr. Monroe was making a point. The pack needed stability, and a Luna was crucial for that.
It hurt me deeply to think that I couldn't avert the prophecy, the one I had believed to be false for so long.
