Engaged to a Billionaire

Abandoned Luna: Now Untouchable

Lila

For eight years, Cecilia Moore was the perfect Luna, loyal, and unmarked. Until the day she found her Alpha mate with a younger, purebred she-wolf in his bed. In a world ruled by bloodlines and mating bonds, Cecilia was always the outsider. But now, she's done playing by wolf rules. She smiles as she hands Xavier the quarterly financials-divorce papers clipped neatly beneath the final page. "You're angry?" he growls. "Angry enough to commit murder," she replies, voice cold as frost. A silent war brews under the roof they once called home. Xavier thinks he still holds the power-but Cecilia has already begun her quiet rebellion. With every cold glance and calculated step, she's preparing to disappear from his world-as the mate he never deserved. And when he finally understands the strength of the heart he broke... It may be far too late to win it back.

Werewolf Fantasy Betrayal Love at first sight Alpha Sweet Drama Kickass Heroine Werewolf Revenge Divorce

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My fiancée smiled as she showed me the "intruder" she had dealt with in the ER.

I looked past her to see my mother beaten unconscious on the floor.

And on the gurney next to her lay my seven-year-old brother, cold, blue, and dead.

Brittnie clung to my arm, beaming with pride.

"I handled it, Cannon," she chirped.

"That gold digger tried to claim this bastard was your son. But I made sure they wouldn't bother us again."

My blood turned to ice.

She was holding my mother' s emerald brooch, a family heirloom, convinced it was her engagement ring.

Because of her delusion, she had refused to give my brother his EpiPen.

She had watched him suffocate to death, thinking she was winning my heart.

I looked at Gabe' s lifeless body, then at the woman I was planning to marry.

I pulled out my phone and shoved a family photo in her face.

"That gold digger is my mother," I whispered, my voice trembling with lethal rage.

"And you just murdered my brother."

Chapter 1

Eleanora Bryan POV:

The world narrowed to a tunnel of fear. Gabe' s small body convulsed in my arms, his face swelling, lips turning blue. Every breath was a rasping battle he was losing, and I knew, with a mother's chilling certainty, that this was it. Anaphylaxis. Again.

"Gabe! Stay with me, baby, stay with me!" My voice was a frantic whisper against the roar of the engine as I sped towards the hospital.

My hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white. The emergency kit was empty. I' d given him the last EpiPen minutes ago, but it wasn't enough. His throat was closing.

I tried Cannon's number again. Straight to voicemail. "The neurosurgery wing doesn't allow phones," a cold voice reminded me. Of course. His life-saving work, always more important.

My jaw ached from clenching. I had to focus. Gabe. Just Gabe.

The emergency room entrance of Bryan Medical loomed, a beacon of stark white light against the oppressive night. This was Cannon's hospital, the one he practically lived in. It had to save my son.

I burst through the automatic doors, Gabe a dead weight in my arms, his once bright eyes now glazed and unfocused. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a desperate plea.

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