Losing the Alpha: The Runaway Invisible Luna

Stephanie’s POV

The corridors of the packhouse felt colder than usual. Or maybe it was just me.

My steps were slow but steady as I made my way toward Elder Elisse’s chamber, the hem of my dress brushing softly against the polished floor. Every wolf I passed lowered their gaze, some out of respect, others out of discomfort.

Or pity. I could feel it.

It clung to me like a second skin now. The Luna who was no longer truly a Luna. The mate who had been replaced long before she even realized it.

I stopped in front of the heavy wooden doors and took a quiet breath before knocking.

“Come in,” Elder Elisse’s voice called from inside.

I pushed the door open and stepped in.

Her chamber was just as I remembered it. Elegant, composed, filled with a quiet authority that reflected the woman who lived within it. She sat by the window, a cup of tea resting untouched beside her.

Her gaze lifted the moment she saw me.

“Luna,” she said gently.

I didn’t waste time.

“I’ll proceed with it.”

Her brows furrowed slightly. “With what?”

“The divorce,” I answered, my voice calm despite the storm brewing inside me. “And I want to step down from the Luna position as well.”

The words felt heavier spoken aloud.

Elder Elisse studied me carefully, as if searching for hesitation. She wouldn’t find any.

“Are you certain?” she asked after a moment.

I nodded.

“I’ve thought about it enough.” My fingers curled slightly at my sides. “There’s nothing left for me here.”

A flicker of pain crossed her face. Not for her son. But for me.

“What will you do afterward?” she asked softly. “Where will you go?”

I opened my mouth to answer. Then closed it again. Because the truth was…

“I don’t know.”

The admission felt strange.

“I just know I can’t stay here anymore,” I continued quietly. “Not like this.”

Silence settled between us. Elder Elisse sighed softly before standing up. She walked toward a nearby drawer and pulled something out.

A letter. Sealed. She held it out to me.

I hesitated for a moment before taking it.

“What is this?”

“I still have connections,” she said, her tone thoughtful. “With the Direwolf Pack.”

My eyes lifted to hers.

“Their Alpha owes me a favor,” she continued. “If you choose to leave, you may seek refuge there. It will be safer for you… especially when you give birth.”

My fingers tightened around the letter.

“They will protect you,” she added. “And your daughter.”

The word alone steadied something inside me.

“Thank you,” I whispered.

Elder Elisse gave me a small, sad smile. “I only wish things had turned out differently.”

So did I.

When I returned to my room, the silence greeted me like an old friend. It was almost comforting now. Almost.

I placed the sealed letter carefully on the table, my fingers lingering on it for a moment.

Before I could let my thoughts wander further, my phone buzzed. A message. From one of the omega maids.

My brows furrowed slightly as I opened it. A link.

[Luna… you might want to see this.]

A strange feeling settled in my chest. Dread.

I tapped on the link. A livestream opened instantly. The setting was unmistakable. The main building of the Foreshadow Pack’s company.

Our company. Or at least… it used to feel like mine. The platform displayed on the screen.

The one I had spent countless nights working on. Planning. Building. Pouring every bit of creativity and effort I had into it.

And then—

Her. Faye.

She stood at the center of it all, smiling brightly at the camera.

“Thank you so much for all the love and support,” she said sweetly, her voice light and cheerful.

The comments flooded the screen, praising her, admiring her. My stomach twisted.

“I also want to give a special thanks to Alpha Cain,” she continued, her smile widening. “He’s been incredibly generous to me.”

My grip on the phone tightened.

“Yes, it’s true,” she laughed softly. “He personally chose me as the ambassador for this platform.”

Ambassador. For something I helped build.

“And of course,” she added, lifting her hand slightly as if showing something off, “thank you for the moonstone. It’s so beautiful.”

My breath caught. The comments exploded. Excitement. Envy. Praise.

“And he’s helped me so much,” she continued, her tone softening just enough to sound sincere. “Covering my health expenses, making sure I’m taken care of… he even bought me land.”

Each word felt like a blade. Twisting deeper with every sentence.

I stared at the screen, my vision beginning to blur. This was… ridiculous. Unbelievable.

The Alpha of the Foreshadow Pack. My mate. Making his mistress the face of the very platform I helped create.

Giving her everything.

My mind drifted back, unbidden. To the necklace around my neck. My hand lifted instinctively, fingers brushing against it.

A simple piece. Elegant. But nothing extraordinary.

He had given it to me once, long ago. Back when I thought it meant everything. Back when I believed it was the most valuable thing he could offer.

A bitter smile tugged at my lips. How foolish. How incredibly foolish of me.

Because clearly… He was capable of giving so much more.

---

The next morning arrived too quickly. The entire pack was dressed in black. Even the air felt heavier.

Today marked the death anniversary of the child I lost a year ago. My first baby.

The one I never got to hold. The one who never got to take a single breath.

My chest tightened as I stood among the others, my hands resting lightly over my stomach.

One year. And it still hurt like it had just happened yesterday. The memories came uninvited.

“Stay strong, Luna,” someone whispered softly as they passed.

I gave a small nod, though I wasn’t sure if I had any strength left to give.

Then—

A stir.

Murmurs rippled through the crowd. My brows furrowed slightly as I turned. And there he was. Alpha Cain. Walking in as if nothing was out of place.

But he wasn’t alone. Faye walked beside him. Smiling. She was wearing baby blue. The color stood out sharply against the sea of black.

Almost blinding. And in her hand…

Her phone. Still streaming.

The murmurs grew louder. Confusion. Disapproval. Disbelief.

My chest tightened. Something inside me snapped. Before I even realized what I was doing, I stepped forward.

“Stop.”

My voice cut through the air.

Faye paused, startled, her wide eyes turning toward me.

“Luna?” she said, her voice trembling slightly.

I stared at her. At the bright blue dress. At the smile that didn’t belong here.

“Do you have any idea what today is?” I asked, my voice shaking despite my efforts to keep it steady.

She blinked, clearly caught off guard.

“I—I…” Her gaze darted briefly to Alpha Cain before returning to me. “I’m sorry, I don’t—”

“This is the death anniversary of the Alpha heir I lost,” I said, the words spilling out before I could stop them.

A collective gasp moved through the crowd.

Faye’s face paled instantly.

“I didn’t know,” she said quickly, her eyes filling with tears. “I swear, I didn’t know. I just—I wore blue because…”

Her hand moved instinctively to her stomach.

“Because I just found out I’m carrying a baby boy.”

The world seemed to tilt.

“I thought it was something to celebrate,” she continued weakly, her voice breaking. “I didn’t mean any disrespect—”

“Celebrate?” My voice rose, disbelief and anger crashing together inside me. “You come here, dressed like that, on this day, and you call it a celebration?”

“I didn’t—”

“You should have known,” I snapped. “At the very least, you should have had the decency to ask.”

Tears streamed down her face now.

“I’m sorry…”

“That’s enough.”

Cain’s voice cut in sharply. I froze. Slowly, I turned to look at him. His expression was cold.

“Luna,” he said, his tone laced with irritation, “you’re being too harsh.”

For a moment, I thought I had misheard him. Too harsh?

“I didn’t even remember what today was,” he continued casually. “What more her? She’s an outsider.”

A hollow feeling spread through my chest.

“She didn’t know,” he added. “You’re making a scene over nothing.”

Nothing. My fingers trembled.

“This is not nothing,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper now.

But he only frowned.

“You’re being overly sensitive,” he said flatly. “And childish.”

Each word landed like a blow.

“Nonsensical.”