Luna Reclaims Her Throne

I clutched my newborn son against my chest as Beta Derek helped me through the pack house doors. Every step sent waves of pain through my still-recovering body. Three days had passed since I'd given birth alone in that sterile clinic room, with only the storm for company.

"Thank you, Derek," I whispered, my voice still raw from screaming alone through contractions.

His eyes held a pity that made my chest ache worse than my body. "Of course, Luna."

The title felt hollow now. Luna. Moon to the Alpha's sun. What a cruel joke.

"I've prepared the Luna quarters for you," Derek said, leading me down the familiar hallway toward the master suite I'd shared with Rhett for three years.

But when we reached the ornate double doors, I froze. A soft laugh drifted through the wood—Christina's laugh, light and musical. My grip tightened around my son.

"That's... that's my room," I said, my voice barely audible.

Derek's expression shifted uncomfortably. "Alpha Rhett thought it would be best if Christina and her pup stayed here. You'll be comfortable in the guest suite at the end of the hall."

The words hit me like physical blows. "She's in my room? With my husband?"

"It's temporary," Derek lied, and we both knew it.

I followed him numbly to the small guest room at the far end of the wing. It was clean but impersonal—the kind of space reserved for visiting pack members, not the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack.

"Your things have been moved here," Derek said, gesturing to my clothes hanging in the closet, my books stacked on the nightstand.

I sat on the edge of the bed, cradling my son close. "Thank you, Derek."

After he left, I nursed my pup and tried to sleep, but every creak of the house made me flinch. Was that Rhett's footsteps? Was he with her now, in what should have been our bed?

---

Three days later, Christina offered to watch my son while I bathed. "You need to rest, Diana," she'd said with false sweetness. "I'm more than happy to help."

I shouldn't have left him with her. But I was exhausted, my body still healing, and the thought of a moment alone was irresistible.

When I returned to the nursery, Christina was gone, but my son was wailing—a high, distressed cry I'd never heard before. His tiny face was flushed, his body rigid with discomfort.

"What's wrong?" I whispered, lifting him gently.

His mouth was sticky with formula—formula he shouldn't have been given yet. His immature system couldn't handle it.

"Rhett!" I called desperately through our bond as I rushed to the kitchen for water to dilute the formula. "Rhett, please come!"

He appeared in the doorway, his expression thunderous. "What's the matter?"

"He's sick," I said, trying to soothe my crying son. "Christina must have given him the wrong formula."

Rhett's eyes narrowed. "Don't blame Christina for your mistakes."

"But I wasn't even here—"

"Enough!" His Alpha tone vibrated through the room, making me flinch. "You're supposed to be his mother. You're supposed to know how to care for him."

My son cried harder, his tiny body trembling.

"If you can't handle being a mother," Rhett continued coldly, "perhaps we should consider what's best for the pup."

The threat hung in the air between us. What was best for the pup might mean taking him away from me entirely.

---

A week later, I was organizing my jewelry box when I noticed something odd about the Luna crown Rhett had placed on my head during our bonding ceremony. The gold seemed duller than I remembered, the gems less vibrant.

Curious, I held it up to the light. The metal was slightly discolored around the edges—a telltale sign of plated brass rather than solid gold.

My hands trembled as I examined the other pieces—the ceremonial necklace, the bracelets, the earrings. All fakes.

I was so absorbed in my discovery that I didn't hear the door open. Only Christina's reflection in the mirror alerted me to her presence.

"Looking at your pretty things?" she asked, her voice dripping with false concern.

I turned slowly, the fake crown in my hand. "These are all... replicas."

Christina smiled, reaching up to touch the exquisite gold and diamond crown nestled in her dark hair. "Oh, you mean these? Rhett gave them to me last night."

The authentic Luna crown gleamed on her head, its ancient gold catching the light. Around her neck hung the matching necklace—the one that should have been mine by right.

"Some things are just meant for those who truly deserve them," she said softly. "Don't you agree?"

In that moment, looking at the real Luna jewels adorning Christina's smug face, something inside me hardened into resolve. This was no longer just about a mate bond or wounded pride.

This was about my son. My dignity. My birthright.

And I would take it all back, no matter the cost.