Rejected Luna Finds Freedom

The Silvercrest dining hall gleamed under the soft glow of crystal chandeliers. Polished silverware clinked against fine china as pack members gathered for the formal dinner Marcus had called. I sat at the far end of the table—still in the Luna's chair, but it felt miles away from Marcus, who presided at the head with Sophia perched smugly beside him.

I stared down at my untouched plate, feeling the weight of stares. The wolfsbane treatment from this morning still lingered in my veins, making my limbs heavy and my wolf, Selene, unnaturally quiet. These treatments had become Marcus's solution to my "emotional instability" after each betrayal—a convenient way to silence both my protests and my wolf's rage.

"I'd like to make an announcement," Sophia's voice cut through the murmur of conversation, silencing the room instantly.

I raised my eyes slowly, my fingers tightening around the delicate porcelain teacup filled with the herbal blend I'd taken to drinking since the wolfsbane made me nauseous.

Sophia stood, her silhouette illuminated by the candlelight. She wore a form-fitting crimson dress that highlighted the subtle curve of her belly—a curve I hadn't noticed before. My heart stuttered painfully in my chest as she placed her hand deliberately over her stomach.

"Alpha Marcus and I are expecting," she announced, her eyes finding mine across the table. "The Silvercrest Pack will soon welcome its true heir."

True heir. The words echoed in my head like a death knell.

The teacup shattered in my grip. I felt nothing as ceramic shards bit into my palm, hot tea mixing with the blood that welled from the cuts. Red droplets fell into what remained of my drink, blooming like dark flowers in the amber liquid.

"Luna Isabella," someone gasped—Liam, our pack healer, rising from his seat with concern etched on his face.

Marcus didn't move. He watched me with cold detachment, his arm sliding possessively around Sophia's waist. "Perhaps you should retire, Isabella. You seem... unwell."

The Alpha command lingered beneath his words—not enough to force me, but a clear warning. I rose shakily, blood dripping from my fingertips onto the pristine white tablecloth.

"Congratulations," I whispered, the word tasting like ash in my mouth. "May the Moon Goddess bless your child."

I turned and walked from the hall, back straight, head high, even as I felt my Luna aura flickering like a candle in the wind.

---

In the solitude of my chamber—once ours, now mine alone—I finally allowed the tears to fall. I sat at my vanity, watching my reflection in the moonlight. The woman who stared back at me was a ghost of who I'd been when Marcus first claimed me as his mate.

*Isabella...* Selene's voice was faint, a mere whisper compared to the confident presence she'd once been. *It hurts.*

"I know," I choked out, pressing my bandaged hand to my chest where the mate bond pulsed painfully. "I know it hurts."

My aura flickered visibly around me, once-brilliant gold now dull and intermittent. Each of Marcus's betrayals had dimmed it further, but this—a child, an heir—this was the ultimate replacement.

I couldn't give Marcus pups. We'd tried in the early years, but something in me was broken. Selene had grown weaker with each failed attempt, and eventually, Marcus had stopped coming to our bed altogether. Except, it seemed, to inform me of his latest conquest.

Rage bubbled up inside me, hot and unfamiliar after years of submission. I swept my arm across the vanity, sending bottles of perfume and jars of herbs crashing to the floor. The scent of crushed lavender and broken promises filled the air as I sobbed, my tears leaving dark spots on the silver-embroidered robe that marked me as Luna.

"I hate him," I whispered to Selene, to myself, to the Moon Goddess who had cursed me with a mate who saw me as nothing but a stepping stone. "I hate what he's made of us."

---

The pounding on my door came at dawn. I hadn't slept, instead spending the night organizing my small collection of healing herbs—a hobby Marcus had tolerated because it kept me occupied and out of his way.

"Open the door, Isabella." Marcus's voice carried the full weight of his Alpha command.

I obeyed, my body responding automatically to his authority. He stood in the doorway, flanked by Liam and two warriors, his face a mask of cold fury.

"Sophia is ill," he stated flatly. "She spent the night vomiting blood."

My eyes widened. "I'm sorry to hear that. Perhaps Liam can—"

"She claims she tasted something bitter in her wine last night," Marcus cut me off. "Something that wasn't there before you walked past her chair on your way out."

The accusation hung in the air between us, so absurd I almost laughed. "You think I poisoned her?"

"Search her garden," Marcus ordered Liam, ignoring my question. "Check for wolfsbane, nightshade, anything that could harm a pregnant she-wolf."

Liam hesitated, his kind eyes meeting mine apologetically. "Alpha, I don't think Luna Isabella would—"

"Search. It." Each word vibrated with Alpha command.

I stood frozen as they invaded my private sanctuary, watching as Liam carefully examined each plant and dried herb bundle. I knew what he would find—nothing that could harm Sophia or her unborn pup. My garden was for healing, not hurting.

After what felt like hours, Liam straightened. "There's nothing here that could cause the symptoms you described, Alpha. Just standard healing herbs."

Marcus's jaw tightened. "You're certain?"

I saw the conflict in Liam's eyes—his healer's integrity warring with his pack loyalty. Then Marcus's aura flared, dark and commanding, and Liam's shoulders slumped.

"I... cannot rule out the possibility entirely," he said quietly, not meeting my gaze. "Some combinations of seemingly innocent herbs can be... problematic."

Marcus's smile was cold as he turned to me. "You'll be watched, Isabella. If anything happens to my heir, you'll answer for it."

As they left, I caught Liam's whispered apology. It meant nothing. In that moment, I realized there was no one in this pack who would choose me over their Alpha—not even those who knew the truth.

I was truly alone.