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The Alpha’s Stolen Luna Novel Cover

The Alpha’s Stolen Luna

Elara’s life is shattered by her own pack's betrayal, leaving her trapped in a cycle of servitude. Her destiny shifts when the formidable Alpha Silas, ruler of a rival land, identifies her as his fated mate and takes her by force. Now a captive, Elara is torn between her attraction to Silas and the mysteries of her lineage. To seize her rightful throne, she must survive dangerous pack politics and confront the truth of her bloodline.
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Chapter 2

Unexpected, wasn’t it?

When my body was brought home, my skin was pale as paper, drained of all color.

My frail frame was wrapped in nothing but a layer of shriveled skin.

Even a blind man could see this was no accident.

Even the guard who delivered the money struggled to come up with a convincing lie.

But my sister, Margaret, weighed the gold in her hand and kindly helped him out:

"Scarlet’s always been sickly. Accidents happen. She was just unlucky this time."

Our parents passed away early, and the three of us siblings had only each other to rely on.

We barely scraped by, selling the lavender we grew in our small patch of land.

I was the weak one, unable to work, and a constant drain on our resources with my medical expenses.

My brother, Alexander, strong and loyal, was stuck toiling in the fields day after day.

My sister, Margaret, beautiful as she was, had to endure the scorching sun to sell our flowers, her skin peeling, often harassed by rogues.

I knew I was a burden, and I often wished I could just disappear, so I wouldn’t drag them down.

When Margaret found the rat poison I’d hidden under my pillow, she slapped me—hard—for the first time.

"Scarlet, what are you thinking?

"If something happens to you, how are Alexander and I supposed to go on?"

She hugged me, sobbing uncontrollably.

I cried too, and from then on, I gave up on the thought of ending my life.

As I slowly regained my strength, an opportunity arose.

Margaret, caught in the rain while selling flowers, her lashes dotted with droplets, caught the attention of the Lycan Prince.

He mentioned that it was Zelda Parker’s birthday soon and asked Margaret to bring the finest lavender to the Lycan Prince’s estate as a gift.

But Margaret came down with a cold and couldn’t go, so I volunteered to take her place.

"Margaret, it’s the Lycan Prince! The reward he’ll give us will be huge. I can buy you new clothes, new jewelry."

She gently patted my head.

"Buying you some healing herbs for your health is more important."

Alexander picked out the finest lavender, and I took them to the Lycan Prince’s estate.

The Prince glanced at me, his expression unreadable, and walked away.

But Zelda, the Lycan Prince’s favored mate, greeted me warmly, pointing to the lavender I’d brought.

"Why isn’t this lavender vibrant enough?"

Zelda Parker, renowned as the most beautiful werewolf in the region, had a face that could rival the moon. There was even a hint of Margaret in her features, which made me feel oddly close to her.

I gathered my courage and explained.

This lavender was a rare and exquisite variety, known for its deep purple hue and soothing fragrance.

When it bloomed, the flowers displayed a stunning contrast of purple and silver, the purple vibrant and rich, the silver pure and delicate.

As I spoke, Zelda’s smile faded.

The sunlight caught her face, and I noticed something odd—her skin tone wasn’t even.

The left side of her face was fair, while the right had a faint yellowish tint.

Zelda snapped the stem of the lavender and hurled it at my face.

"You dare make excuses for bringing me lavender that isn’t vibrant enough? How dare you deceive me!

"Perhaps lavender stained with blood would be more to my liking. If it’s not vibrant enough, then let your blood dye it."

She ordered her guards to bind me, made a small cut on my neck, and hung me upside down above the lavender.

Drop by drop, my blood fell, slowly staining the lavender a deep crimson.

All night long, I hung there, watching as my blood soaked the lavender my sister and brother had nurtured.

When the morning light touched my pale face, Zelda emerged, her gaze fixed on the lavender now blooming in a fiery, blood-red hue.

She smiled, satisfied.

"I heard the Prince met a pretty flower girl. I thought I’d see what kind of vixen she was, but it turns out she’s just a child.

"The Prince has strange tastes, getting interested in a kid."

Her eyes fell on my lifeless body, filled with venom.

"But you’re not innocent either, using lavender to mock me for my disfigurement, and on my birthday no less! I had no choice but to teach you a lesson."

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