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FROM A COMMON LUNA TO THE WEREWOLF QUEEN Novel Cover

FROM A COMMON LUNA TO THE WEREWOLF QUEEN

When Alpha Lorian betrays her with Aveline, Isolde Payne rejects her unfaithful mate and abandons her role as Luna of the Silver Ridge Pack. Seeking a fresh start, she aligns with the prestigious Lycan Dominion to protect their kind. There, she catches the eye of Sylven, the mysterious Lycan King. While Isolde climbs to new heights and embraces a budding romance, Lorian is consumed by remorse. Now, she must choose between her painful past and a powerful new destiny.
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Chapter 2

The air outside was cold and heavy, thick with a tension that mirrored the unease in my chest. The pack house was eerily quiet, save for the occasional rustle of leaves outside.

I stood by the nursery, trailing my fingers along the crib’s polished edge, its craftsmanship a labor of love for the child I dreamed of holding.

I brushed my hand over my swollen stomach, whispering softly. “You’re my light, little one. I’ll keep you safe, no matter what.”

The promise felt hollow in the face of the growing unease I couldn’t shake. The rogues had been silent for too long, their absence ominous. Even the bond with my mate, Lorian, felt distant, strained. Was it the pressure of leadership—or something deeper?

A low growl broke the silence.

I froze, every muscle tensing. The sound came from outside, just beyond the nursery walls. Before I could react, a crash echoed through the pack house—a window shattering, followed by an ear-splitting howl.

“Rogues,” I hissed.

Grabbing a dagger from the nursery drawer, I bolted into the hallway. My wolf surged to the surface, and I shifted mid-stride, my body rippling as fur replaced skin.

The sudden change sent a jolt through me, but I pushed through it, landing on all fours. My silver coat glinted in the moonlight streaming through the broken windows.

The pack house was chaos. Warriors clashed with snarling rogues, their howls and snarls echoing off the walls. I charged into the fray, instincts sharp, my focus singular: protect the pack and my child.

A rogue lunged at me, its jaws snapping. I dodged, retaliating with a swipe of my claws. The rogue yelped as blood sprayed from its face. Before it could recover, I tackled it to the ground, sinking my teeth into its neck until it stopped moving.

The scent of blood hung thick in the air. My heart pounded as I turned, scanning the battlefield.

A second rogue charged at me, and I braced for impact. We collided, the force knocking me backward. Pain flared in my abdomen as I hit the ground.

“Protect the baby.”

The thought was a desperate mantra as I rolled to avoid the rogue’s snapping jaws. I fought back with everything I had, my claws finding purchase in its side.

The rogue howled, retreating just enough for me to get back on my feet. But the sharp, stabbing pain in my stomach didn’t relent.

Panic flared in my chest. Something was wrong.

I forced the thought aside, focusing on the fight. Another rogue leaped at me, but I sidestepped, slashing at its legs. It fell with a howl, and I delivered the killing blow with my teeth.

Around me, the pack warriors fought valiantly, but we were outnumbered. The rogues surged forward in relentless waves, their snarls echoing through the halls. My vision blurred as the pain in my stomach intensified, radiating outward.

“Not now. Please, not now. Babe, please bear with mom”

I staggered, nearly collapsing, as a rogue slammed into me from behind. My body screamed in protest, but I pushed through the pain, twisting to claw at its side. Blood spattered the floor as the rogue fell back, and I finished it with a snap of my jaws.

The world spun as I struggled to stay upright. A warm, wet sensation spread down my legs, and my heart sank.

“No!”

The realization hit me like a physical blow. The baby.

I doubled over, clutching my stomach with a whimper as the fight raged around me. Another rogue advanced, its eyes gleaming with malice. I forced myself to stand, to fight, but my strength was waning.

A blur of motion caught my eye as Thad, Lorian’s beta, barreled into the rogue, taking it down with a feral snarl. He turned to me, his expression dark with worry.

“Luna, you’re hurt!”

“I’m fine,” I lied, my voice trembling. “Focus on the fight.”

But I wasn’t fine. I could feel it—the life I had carried slipping away, leaving a hollow ache in its place.

The battle continued, each moment a blur of blood and fury. By the time the last rogue fell, the pack house was in ruins, and the wounded lay scattered across the floor. I stumbled to the healer’s station, collapsing onto a cot.

The healer’s face paled as she examined me. Her voice was gentle but firm. “Luna... I’m sorry. The baby...”

I didn’t hear the rest. Her words blurred together, drowned out by the roaring in my ears.

---

Hours later, the pack house was quiet, the rogues defeated, and the bodies cleared. I sat in the nursery, staring at the empty crib. My hand rested on my stomach, now eerily still.

The door creaked open, and I didn’t bother turning to see who it was.

“Luna,” Thad’s voice was soft, hesitant. “We found Alpha Lorian.”

I turned slowly, my eyes narrowing. “Where?”

“On the eastern border. He said he was... scouting.”

A bitter laugh escaped me. Scouting. While I fought for my life and lost our child, he had been absent, his bond a cold, distant void.

I rose from the chair, my movements stiff. “Thank you, Thad. Leave me.”

He hesitated, then nodded, retreating quietly.

I walked to Lorian’s office, each step fueled by rage and grief. His excuses, his absence—they were unforgivable.

My wounds had been treated, but the ache in my chest lingered. I trudged up the stairs to Lorian’s office, my resolve hardening with every step. I needed answers.

The room was dark, the faint hum of his laptop the only sound. I sat in his chair, my claws clicking against the keyboard as I opened his email. My heart raced, dread pooling in my stomach.

The message was right there, bold and glaring on the screen: [I’m back, Alpha Lorian. Meet me at my old pack so we can catch up. -Aveline]

Aveline— His ex-girlfriend.

Rage and heartbreak coursed through me. While I had fought for my life and the lives of our pack, Lorian had been off with her.

My claws scraped against the desk as I clenched my fists.

He returned five days later, reeking of her scent and offering lies about a “diplomatic mission.” I stared at him in the mirror as he made his excuses, my smile cold and hollow.

“Of course,” I said. “I understand.”

But I didn’t. I couldn’t. And as I stared into the reflection of my mate—the man who had failed me—I made my decision. I would leave him, leave the pack, and leave behind the shattered dream of a family I once thought I could build.

The bond between us, once a source of strength, now felt like chains I needed to break.

As I stared at him, I made a silent vow: I would rebuild myself, stronger than before. For myself, and for the life I had lost.

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