The Lunas Revenge

His Discarded Luna, the Rival's Obsession

Lila

"No wolf. No family. Harmless. Useful. The second I am done with her, the Luna title is yours." Eira Crawford heard those words through her husband's office door. For four years, she had been Sebastian Vale's hidden mate. She managed his household, entertained his relatives, cleaned up his messes, and lived on the three thousand dollars he gave her each month like charity. Even buying a new coat required an explanation. But for his first love, he casually prepared three hundred thousand dollars in research funding. To Sebastian, Eira was nothing more than a wolfless Omega from an orphanage. A quiet, obedient wife with no pack, no power, and no value beyond being useful. He had never introduced her publicly as his Luna. His family treated her like a servant. His sweetheart mocked her as a woman who could only survive by clinging to an Alpha. So Eira stopped crying. She recorded the affair, filed for mate dissolution, and placed the divorce papers in front of Sebastian. Even then, he thought she was throwing a tantrum. He signed without hesitation, certain she would come crawling back once she realized no one else would want a discarded, wolfless Omega. He was wrong. The woman he left at home washing dishes was a Stanford-trained electrical engineer. The "useless" wife he ignored was the hidden chief engineer behind a national self-developed chip project. Her movements were classified. Her disappearance could alert the federal authorities. Her name, once revealed, was enough to shake the entire scientific community. And Sebastian knew nothing. After walking out of his house with nothing but her freedom, Eira crossed paths with Killian Sterling, the coldest and most powerful Alpha in the north. He did not know her name yet, but his wolf recognized something in her that everyone else had missed. Meanwhile, Sebastian finally realized that Eira was not bluffing. He searched the entire city like a madman. For the first time in four years, he publicly called her his wife. He demanded she return. He begged for another chance. But by then, Eira was no longer waiting in his house. She was seated at the Sterling Pack's dinner table, dressed with quiet confidence, while the most feared Alpha in North America stood beside her. In front of everyone, Killian Sterling placed his hand at her back and said coldly, "Eira is not anyone's discarded Omega." "She is my Luna."

Werewolf Love triangle Alpha Billionaires Hidden Identities Billionaire Ex-wife Kickass Heroine

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The drill's whine was the only thing in my world, vibrating through my skull and drowning out my own screams.

I was strapped to a cold metal table, paralyzed by wolfsbane, while surgeons bored into my hip bone to siphon my essence.

"Just a little more," the surgeon muttered. "Isabella needs the boost for the wedding photos."

They weren't saving my sister's life. They were harvesting my marrow just to make her skin glow for a picture.

I looked at the observation window, begging with my eyes.

Dante, the Alpha I had dragged from the jaws of death, stood there. He wasn't looking at me. He was holding Isabella's hand.

He didn't know I was the one who healed him. He believed her lies.

"Take it all if you have to," Dante's voice drifted through our fading mate bond. "Don't let her fade."

The drill punched through. My heart stuttered and stopped.

I died on that table, a hollowed-out husk used to feed my sister's vanity.

"Seraphina! Are you deaf?"

A sharp voice snapped me back into existence.

I gasped, clutching my hip. No blood. No drill. No pain.

I looked at the calendar on my father's desk.

I was alive. And I had exactly one year before the surgery that killed me.

I looked at my trembling hands and felt the ancient anger of my White Wolf stirring.

I wasn't going to be the sacrifice this time.

I was going to be the arsonist.

Chapter 1

Seraphina POV:

The drill's whine was the only thing in the world.

It wasn't just noise; it was a physical intrusion, vibrating through my skull and drowning out the wet, ragged sound of my own screams. I was strapped to a cold metal table, limbs heavy with wolfsbane anesthesia—enough to paralyze my muscles, but designed to keep my nerves screamingly awake.

"Just a little more marrow, Seraphina," the surgeon muttered, his mask splattered with my blood. "Isabella's levels are dropping. She needs the boost for the wedding photos."

Not to save her life. To make her glow.

I wanted to beg. I wanted to scream that I was empty. My liver was a map of scar tissue from previous resections. My blood count was so low I was constantly dizzy. And now, they were boring into my hip bone to siphon the essence of my wolf to feed my sister's vanity.

I looked at the observation window. My father, Alpha Giovanni, stood there, arms crossed, eyes fixed on the monitor displaying Isabella's vitals.

Beside him stood Dante.

My mate. The Alpha of the Moretti Pack. The man I had dragged out of the jaws of death.

He wasn't looking at me. He was holding Isabella's hand as she lay on the adjacent bed, looking pale and tragically beautiful.

"Take it all if you have to," Dante said. His voice was muffled by the glass, but I heard it through our fading mate bond. "Don't let her fade."

Take it all.

The drill punched through the bone.

White-hot agony shattered my vision. My heart stuttered. My inner wolf, a White Wolf I'd been forced to drug into a coma to hide her from my father's greed, stirred in the dark. She didn't howl; she whimpered.

Darkness swallowed me.

"Seraphina! Are you deaf?"

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