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The Forgotten Luna Novel Cover

The Forgotten Luna

For nine years, Astrid endured the hollow affection of Asher Eldridge, heir to the Crescent Moon pack. But on her naming-day, a misplaced gift exposes his ultimate betrayal. A carved box of rare healing elixirs bears a secret inscription dedicated to Lila Thorn, the pack’s golden diplomat. Seeking the truth, Astrid tracks Asher to the cliffs of Shadow Vale, only to overhear him confessing his disdain. To Asher, Astrid is too weak to rule by his side—a mere liability instead of his true luna.
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Chapter 3

“Everything is ruined. And there’s nothing left for me to ruin.”

Before I could brace myself, her paw struck my face with a force that made my ears ring. The sting burned as the world around me blurred.

“You ungrateful whelp!” she hissed, her voice rising for the entire village to hear.

Her rage wasn’t just verbal. She lunged at me, claws tearing at my fur as she berated me. “Asher told me everything. Do you think wolves like him are plentiful? He’s an Alpha heir! You’ve been blessed beyond measure, and this is how you repay it? Jealousy? Laziness? You’re a disgrace!”

A wooden staff leaned against the den’s wall, and she seized it with fury. The strikes came fast, relentless, and unyielding. Each one carried the weight of her resentment and disappointment.

"You're worthless without him," she spat. "You'll come crawling back, begging for his forgiveness. Do whatever it takes-grovel, lie, bear his heir-but don't you dare return here without securing that bond!"

A gust of cold wind howled through the trees, bringing with it the first drops of rain. Lightning cracked across the sky as a torrential downpour began. My mother stopped her assault, panting, but her words didn’t cease.

“Get out of my sight! You don’t deserve this family, this den, or the life we gave you!”

She blocked the entrance to the den, tossing my old belongings out into the mud one by one.

“Even if you die,” she screamed, “you’d better die in his lodge!”

A tarnished trophy from my puphood hit my forehead, splitting the skin. Blood mingled with the rain, trickling down my face.

I crouched in the mud, gathering my scattered possessions—old trinkets and memories I had long abandoned. As I clutched the broken pieces of my past, a sleek black carriage rolled to a stop beside me.

Asher stepped out, holding a wide umbrella over his head. His presence alone made the rain seem heavier. Without a word, he grabbed my arm, pulling me upright with a roughness that sent a jolt of pain through my shoulder.

“Astrid,” he snarled, his tone dripping with condescension. “Are you done being difficult?”

His grip on my arm tightened, his claws just shy of breaking the skin. “No one else will tolerate you, let alone love you. I’m the only one who’s ever cared. Stop this foolishness and come back where you belong.”

He pulled his cloak from his shoulders and draped it over me. The scent of Lila clung to the fabric, a cruel reminder of everything I had endured.

I turned my gaze to the rain-blurred trees beyond the village, my mind retreating into numbness.

Once, I had believed Asher to be my salvation, a mate to whom I could bare my soul. I had trusted him with my pain, my vulnerabilities, and my heart. But he had used every piece of me as a tool for his own gain.

Asher had never been my refuge. He was a storm I needed to escape.

As the carriage rolled down the muddy path, Cain’s phone buzzed to life.

“Asher, where are you?” came Lila’s honeyed voice. “The gathering is in full swing, and everyone’s asking about you. They’re teasing me, saying the Alpha-to-be is missing while his luna is here alone. How am I supposed to answer them?”

Asher glanced at me, hesitation flickering in his eyes. He seemed torn, weighing his options. After a moment, he cleared his throat and said, “Astrid, you’ll join me at the pack’s retreat.”

I blinked, surprised. Asher had always barred me from his affairs. Even when I brought him meals, I had been ordered to leave them outside the lodge so as not to disrupt his work.

Now, this sudden invitation was a jarring shift.

I reached for a cloth from my satchel, dabbing the blood from my forehead. My voice was flat as I replied, “Okay.”

Asher’s seemed satisfied with my compliance, leaning back against the seat with an air of triumph.

Inside, I felt nothing. Not anger, not sorrow, not fear—just a hollow resolve.

Asher believed he was still in control, that his words and gestures could keep me bound to him. But I knew better.

I wasn’t going to the retreat as his loyal shadow. I was going to end this farce once and for all.

The wolf I used to be was gone. The wolf I was becoming would reclaim her freedom, no matter what it took.

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