After My Mate’s Lies, I Became the Alpha King’s Luna

Four years later

The bell above the boutique door chimed as I examined a rack of designer dresses. The fabric was exquisite—silky and cool against my fingertips. Four years had transformed me from a broken, rejected she-wolf into... this. I caught my reflection in the mirror—poised, confident, draped in a tailored navy suit that screamed success rather than survival.

"Mrs. Wallace, would you like to try that one on?" The saleswoman approached with a smile.

"Thank you, but I'm just browsing today," I replied, my voice carrying the quiet authority I'd cultivated as Luna of the Blood River Pack.

The store was one of Manhattan's finest, all gleaming surfaces and exclusive labels. The Lycan Summit had brought pack leaders from across the country to New York, and Malcolm had meetings with the council all day. I'd slipped away to browse, enjoying a rare moment of solitude.

Then the scent hit me—pine and musk, undercut with something bitter. A scent I'd once known as well as my own.

Barrett.

I didn't need to turn around to confirm it. My wolf stirred within me, not with longing but with alertness. *Danger*, she whispered. *Past danger*.

The bell chimed again, and I heard his voice—deeper now, carrying the unmistakable weight of an Alpha's authority.

"Giana, darling, anything you want. Consider it a babymoon gift."

I kept my eyes on the dress before me, fingers steady as I sorted through the hangers. My heart rate remained even, my breathing controlled. Four years of Malcolm's patient love had healed what Barrett's rejection had broken.

"Amelia?"

I turned slowly, professionally. Barrett stood three feet away, his expression a mixture of shock and something else—something that looked almost like hunger. Behind him, Giana's hand rested protectively on her heavily pregnant belly, her eyes narrowed at the sight of me.

"Barrett," I acknowledged with a slight nod. "Giana."

He recovered quickly, his Alpha aura flaring as he stepped closer. "What are you doing in New York? In my territory during the summit?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Your territory?"

"The Silver Moon Pack has always had connections here," he said dismissively. "I'm surprised you'd show your face at a summit event."

I smiled—the diplomatic smile I'd perfected for difficult negotiations. "I'm afraid I don't recall seeing you on the delegate list."

His eyes narrowed as he inhaled deeply, trying to catch my scent. I knew what he was detecting—or rather, what he wasn't. The masking scent Malcolm had placed on me was subtle but powerful, detectable only to Alphas of his caliber.

"You're working here?" he asked, his tone shifting to something patronizing. "As a shop girl?"

Giana stepped forward, one hand still cradling her belly. "Oh, Barrett, don't be cruel. She's obviously just... struggling."

I watched as she examined me with false sympathy, her eyes gleaming with malicious triumph. "It must be so hard, being masterless all these years."

Barrett reached into his pocket and pulled out a wallet. "Look, Amelia, I know things have been... difficult for you."

"Difficult?" I repeated softly.

"As a rogue," he clarified, his voice lowering as if sharing a secret. "Without a pack. Without protection."

I felt a flash of amusement at his assumption. Did he really think I'd spent four years as a desperate rogue, pining for him?

"I can help," he continued, extracting several hundred-dollar bills. "For old times' sake."

Giana's smile tightened. "Barrett, darling, you're always so generous."

I looked at the money he held out—an insult disguised as charity—and felt nothing but pity for the man before me. He had no idea what I'd become, who I'd become.

"Thank you for the offer," I said, my voice cool and measured. "But I'm afraid I must decline."

Barrett's brow furrowed. "Don't be proud, Amelia. No one needs to know."

"I'm not being proud," I replied. "I simply don't need your money."

Giana laughed lightly. "Oh, Barrett, stop. Can't you see she's too stubborn? Some people would rather suffer than accept help."

I met her gaze steadily, allowing just a hint of my Luna eyes to glow—not enough to reveal my true status, but enough to make her falter.

"Enjoy your shopping," I said, turning back to the dresses. "I was just leaving."

As I walked toward the exit, I could feel Barrett's eyes burning into my back, confusion and something like suspicion radiating from him in waves.

Who was Amelia Harvey now? And why did she seem so... untouchable?