Choosing the Surrogate Over His Luna

LUNA ASTRID

I quickly averted my gaze from the Masked Lady, forcing myself to lift my chin high.

I must be mistaken. It's impossible. Why would a princess agree to be someone's surrogate? The idea was absurd!

A week passed since that day, and I did everything in my power to avoid her. But today, fate had other plans. As I walked through the courtyard, seeking solace in the open air, the Masked Lady approached me.

"Luna Astrid." She called, her voice soothing.

I turned to face her, saying nothing.

Her masked face tilted slightly, but her piercing ocean blue eyes were focused intently on me. "The Alpha will inject his fluid into me in a few days to carry your heir, and yet…" she paused, her gaze scrutinizing, "…I haven't heard even a simple word of gratitude from you."

My chest tightened, but I held my composure.

"Aren't you grateful," she continued, her tone now laced with pride, "that someone is finally stepping in, to do what you're supposed to do?" She was bragging.

Her words stung, and it was taunting. I could even feel her smirking behind the jeweled mask.

But I only glared at her, forcing a fake smile. "That's your job. Why would I thank you for something you're being paid to do?"

I stepped forward to leave, but she grabbed my arm. "Oh, my bad," she said with a chuckle. "I almost forgot the Alpha is paying me for this. Can you blame me, though? With all the effort he's putting into me, it feels more like I'm his Luna than just a surrogate."

Her words were like a dagger aimed at my pride, but I refused to show any weakness. Instead, I maintained my calm composure.

"You're right," I replied, meeting her gaze head-on. "And I, too, wonder why he's going to such great lengths for you." I stepped closer, making sure she's intimidated. "Honestly, I can't help but wonder if Jameson truly didn't know the identity of the she-wolf hiding behind that lavish mask."

Her body tensed, and she flinched when my fingers lightly grazed the edge of her mask. She instinctively backed away, her confidence wavering.

"What are you talking about, Luna?" She said, her voice rising defensively. "Of course, the Alpha doesn't know who I am. Why would he? Maybe he's just putting in so much effort because I'm the key to ensuring the pack's future. To keep his bloodline alive. I'm sure he's simply… grateful and relieved." Her denial was quick.

I smirked. "Whatever you say, Masked Lady."

I intended to walk away, but my wolf surged within me, urging me to act. Her instinct became mine, and before I could stop myself, I reached out and ripped the mask from her face.

It all happened in an instant—the exact moment Jameson stepped in.

I froze as I stared at her now-uncovered face.

There she was. Lady Victoria Beckett.

The mask slipped from my trembling fingers, clattering to the ground. "I knew it." I whispered, my voice thick with emotion. "It was really you."

"What the hell are you doing, Astrid?!" Jameson barked, rushing forward. He placed himself between us as though shielding Victoria from me. Without hesitation, he retrieved the mask from the ground and gently placed it back on her face.

I turned to him, my vision blurred by the heat of unshed tears. My voice broke as I asked, "All this time… did you know? Did you know it was her?"

Jameson met my gaze, his face unreadable, but his subtle nod was an enough answer.

The confirmation shattered me, leaving me breathless. This is fucking betrayal!

"Why does it have to be her, Jameson?" I cried, my voice breaking. "Of all the she-wolves, why would you choose your first love as our surrogate?"

He stood silent, his jaw clenched, avoiding my gaze.

I stepped closer, my tears falling freely. "Are you trying to cover up an affair through surrogacy? I demand an answer, Jameson!"

But before he could respond, chaos erupted.

Out of nowhere, two black, feral rogues lunged at us, their snarls echoing through the courtyard. It happened so fast—I barely had time to react before sharp teeth sank into my shoulder. I screamed in pain.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the other rogue clamp its jaws onto Victoria. She shrieked, blood staining her elegant gown.

"Jameson, help me!" I pleaded, my voice desperate.

"Alpha, I need your help!" Victoria cried out simultaneously.

Both of us were at the mercy of the feral rogues, but Jameson could only save one from them.

Now I wonder who would matter more to him—his Luna, or the surrogate?