Ashes of the Broken Moon by Kelvin Foster

I was the Alpha’s Fated Mate, but to Jacob, I was nothing more than a tool to soothe his rage with my piano music.

He paraded Kassandra around as his true love, treating me like a servant in my own home.

When Rogues attacked our territory, Jacob had to make a split-second choice.

He chose to save Kassandra, believing her lie that she was pregnant with his heir.

While he protected her, Kassandra looked me in the eye and stomped on my hand—crushing the bones and destroying my ability to play the music that kept the pack sane.

I left the pack that night, broken and alone.

It took Jacob weeks to discover the truth.

Kassandra was never pregnant; she had been taking birth control for years and stealing millions from the pack treasury.

Realizing he had sacrificed his true mate for a liar, Jacob destroyed Kassandra and came crawling back to me.

He found me in Vienna, healed and rising as the powerful White Wolf Luna.

He knelt in the dirt, slicing his own arm with a silver blade, begging for a chance to bleed for me the way I had bled for him.

He offered me his Alpha title, his fortune, and his life.

I looked at the man who had once been my entire world and felt nothing but a cold, hollow silence.

"I don't hate you, Jacob," I said, turning to the man who truly loved me.

"I just don't care."

Chapter 1

Alexia POV

The silence of the night was shattered not by sound, but by a violent intrusion into my skull.

*Play for me, Alexia.*

The voice didn't come from the room. It resonated directly inside my head, vibrating against my temples like a physical blow. It was the *Mind-Link*—the telepathic connection that binds every wolf in a Pack together. But this wasn't just communication; it was a leash being yanked tight.

I was sitting on the edge of my narrow bed in the servants' quarters, the damp chill of the basement seeping into my bones. I clenched my hands into fists, my nails digging into my palms.

"No," I whispered to the empty, cramped room. "Not tonight. My fingers are bleeding."

*I didn't ask.*

The tone shifted. The air in the room seemed to grow heavier, pressing down on my lungs until I gasped for breath.

*Come. Now.*

It was the Alpha’s Command.

My body betrayed me instantly. The Alpha’s Command is an absolute law written into our biology; when the Pack leader gives a direct order, a lower-ranking wolf’s muscles move before their mind can object. It is a crushing weight, a puppet master’s string that threatens to snap your spine if you dare to resist.

I stood up, my legs moving mechanically, fighting the urge to vomit from the sheer violation of my will. My inner wolf, a ragged and starved creature, whined in the back of my mind, too broken to fight him.

I walked through the long, shadowed corridors of the Obsidian Pack house. The grandeur of the upper floors mocked me—the velvet carpets silencing my footsteps, the scent of polished mahogany and expensive beeswax clogging my senses. I belonged to the shadows, the Omega who scrubbed these floors, not the one who walked them.

When I entered the Alpha’s private music room, Jacob Cummings was pacing. He looked like a storm contained in skin—tall, broad-shouldered, with eyes that burned with the manic energy of a wolf fighting its own instincts.

"You took too long," he growled, not bothering to look at me.

I didn't speak. I couldn't. The Command pushed me toward the grand piano in the corner. It was a beautiful beast of an instrument, sleek and black, like the obsidian our Pack was named after.

I sat down. The keys were cold against my battered fingertips. The skin there was raw, callous over callous, split from hours of scrubbing floors and hours of forced playing. A fresh smear of blood stained the white ivory as I hesitated.

*Soothe him,* the Command whispered in my blood.