The Moon's Weapon : the cursed mate [ MOVING TO GALATEA]

POV: Barbara

The scent of old stone and ink hit me the second I stepped into the council hall.

War.

It always smelled the same—plans etched on parchment, sweat in the air, desperation hiding behind polished manners. But this time, I wasn’t here to beg for resources or fight for a cause. I was the resource.

I walked through the double doors like I owned them. Because in here, I did.

My name was whispered across packs like a warning and a prayer. Barbara Konnor—strategist, field commander, and the woman who trained herself into a fucking weapon after being discarded like a failed Luna. And now? The Council summoned me.

My boots echoed sharp across the marble floor. My braid hung tight down my back, my green eyes scanning the long table at the center of the war room.

Twelve council members.

Two scribes.

And one empty seat at the head of the room—the Alpha who’d requested support.

The one whose pack was under siege by a rogue faction.

The one who needed me.

I stopped a few paces from the table and crossed my arms, giving the gathered elders a cool, expectant look.

“You called,” I said. “So let’s not waste time.”

A few of the older men stiffened at my tone. But they didn’t argue.

Councilor Mira, a sharp-eyed woman in her sixties with silver hair coiled like a crown, was the first to speak.

“Thank you for coming, Miss Konnor. We understand you’ve recently completed campaigns in the Blackmount region and the North Crescent Border.”

“Five victories. Minimal losses,” I said, ticking off the facts like a grocery list.

“You’re aware this is different.”

“Rogue pack,” I said, nodding. “Organized. Resourceful. Not typical ferals. If they take this pack, they’ll have a corridor straight through the Eastlands. You’ll lose control of four bordering territories.”

Mira smiled faintly. “Exactly.”

I lifted a brow. “So whose pack am I saving?”

The side doors opened.

And I felt it before I saw him.

My wolf.

A sudden flicker under my skin, like lightning without thunder. Like memory stirred in my blood.

The man who entered was taller than I remembered, broader. Hair dark brown, shaggy at the edges, those same hazel eyes like sunlight behind storm clouds. He walked like war was stitched into his spine—calm, heavy, controlled.

My mouth went dry.

Alastor fucking Campbell.

Alpha of the Moonridge Pack.

My ex.

My mate.

The man who kissed me under the full moon when we were seventeen.

My first boyfriend.

The one I thought was the love of my life.

The one I gave myself to, completely, unconditionally.

And when we turned twenty-one—he became something more.

My mate.

Fated. Chosen by the Moon herself.

And then he rejected me.

One day later.

No warning.

No explanation.

The reason I left home.

The reason I trained until my bones shattered and rebuilt stronger.

The reason I carved myself into a weapon.

The reason I was a legend now.

And he was standing in front of me.

Looking at me like I was a ghost.

No—worse.

Like I was a memory that hurt to touch.

I straightened my spine. Masked everything. Let my voice go cold.

“Alpha Campbell,” I said. “What a surprise.”

His throat bobbed. His fists clenched.

“Barbara,” he said—soft. Reverent. Like my name still meant something.

It almost cracked me.

Almost.

“It’s Miss Konnor now,” I replied, chin high.

A beat of silence.

The room went tight. Too still. Even the council knew something had shifted.

Councilor Mira cleared her throat. “You know each other?”

I smiled, sharp and tight. “Yes.”

The bond between us throbbed like a wound that never healed.

I’d left the day after the rejection. Never saw him again.

And yet now—standing here—it felt like nothing had changed.

My wolf stirred under my skin, restless. Hungry. Confused.

Hopeful.

No. No, no, no.

Not after all these years.

Not after he shattered me.

I turned to the council, my voice steady. “If this is the pack in question, I assume the situation is worse than you’ve let on.”

Mira nodded slowly. “It is.”

“Then give me the full command. Your maps. Access to your scouts. And I’ll win this war for you.”

Alastor flinched like I’d slapped him.

But I didn’t look at him.

Not again.

I couldn’t.

Because if I did, I might remember what it felt like to be his. And I wasn’t that girl anymore.

“I’ll need full command,” I said again, folding my arms. “Maps. Scout reports. Chain of communication through me.”

Alastor stepped forward.

“No.”

The word cracked like thunder.

The council shifted. Mira’s eyes narrowed. But I just turned slowly toward him, letting my gaze drag over him like a blade.

“No?” I echoed, voice cool as steel.

“This is my pack,” he said, voice tight with control. “I’ve bled for it. Built it. Brought it back from the edge more than once. I won’t hand over complete control to an outsider—even if she has a reputation.”

Outsider.

The word stung more than I wanted it to.

But I smiled.

“Oh, I see. So you called in me—the council summoned me—for my strategy, for my results, for my ability to win battles no one else could…”

I took a step toward him. Slow. Deliberate. My voice lowered, sharp and lethal.

“But now that I’m standing here, you want to leash me? Tell me where and how I can lead?”

His jaw flexed. “You don’t understand the internal dynamics—”

“I understand war, Alpha Campbell,” I snapped, and his name came out like poison. “And I understand rogue strategy better than anyone else in this room. Including you.”

Our eyes locked.

The air went razor-edged.

Alastor’s wolf stirred behind his eyes—glowing faintly, surging.

Mine did too.

Councilor Jones cleared his throat loudly. “Enough. The council asked Miss Konnor for her expertise, yes. But Alpha Campbell remains the leader of his territory. You’ll work together.”

“Together?” I repeated, lips curling in a humorless smile. “This should be fun.”

“I’ll approve every tactical move,” Alastor said, jaw still tight. “Every scout report passes through me. Every deployment—cleared by me.”

“And what if I say no?” I asked, eyes glittering.

“Then we fail,” he said, his voice low. “And I won’t let that happen.”

He looked at me—not like the girl he left behind.

But like the equal I’d become.

That should’ve satisfied me.

But it didn’t.

“I’m not here to play by your rules,” I said, stepping back. “And I don’t owe you anything—least of all your pride.”

He didn’t answer.

Didn’t move.

But I could feel the rage simmering under his skin.

Good.

I turned to Mira. “I’ll need quarters away from the Alpha’s wing. A war table and space for my team when they arrive. If I’m being asked to win this thing, I do it on my terms.”

Mira nodded slowly. “You’ll have it.”

And I walked away without another word.

Because this war wasn’t just about territory anymore.

It was about control.

And I was done letting Alastor Campbell write the terms of my life.