When My Groom’s Mistress Wore My Luna Gown

I spend the morning preparing for war disguised as defeat.

Luna fights me every step of the way. My wolf wants blood, wants to tear Davina apart with our bare hands. Instead, I'm standing in front of my bathroom mirror, deliberately dampening my aura until I look fragile. Broken.

It takes effort to suppress an Alpha-blooded she-wolf's natural dominance. I have to pull my power inward, compress it until it's a tight knot in my chest. My scent shifts from confident magnolia to something weaker, tinged with distress pheromones.

Reese watches from the doorway, her expression tight with disapproval. "I hate this plan."

"It's the only way." I apply minimal makeup—just enough to look like I've been crying but tried to hide it. "Davina needs to think she's won. That I'm too devastated to fight back."

"You're too good at this." Reese's voice carries an edge of concern. "Playing weak."

I meet her eyes in the mirror. "I'm not playing weak. I'm playing smart."

My phone buzzes. Davina's response to my carefully worded text: *Neutral Grounds Cafe. 2pm. Don't be late.*

Even her messages drip with newfound confidence. She thinks she's already Luna.

Luna snarls in my mind. *Let me out. Let me show her what a real Luna looks like.*

*Soon,* I promise her. *But not yet.*

Neutral Grounds sits exactly on the border between three territories—Blood Moon, Iron Fang, and the neutral zone. It's a place where wolves from different packs can meet without violating territorial protocols. The cafe smells like coffee and old wood, populated by a mix of ranked wolves conducting business and rogues looking for work.

Davina's already there when I arrive, sitting at a corner table like she owns the place. She's wearing designer clothes—probably bought with Jefferson's money—and that damn silver bracelet catches the light as she lifts her cup.

I force my shoulders to slump. Let my scent spike with artificial distress. Luna howls in protest, but I keep her locked down tight.

Davina's smile is pure poison. "Sapphire. You look... tired."

"I haven't slept." My voice comes out small, trembling. I slide into the seat across from her, making sure my hands shake just enough to be visible. "Those photos you sent—"

"Oh, those." She waves a hand dismissively. "I really didn't mean for you to see them. But honestly, isn't it better this way? Now you know the truth."

I let tears well up in my eyes. Real ones, actually—not from sadness, but from the effort of suppressing my wolf's rage. "How long? How long have you and Jefferson—"

"Ten years." She says it like she's proud. "Since the training camp. We fell in love that summer, you know. Real love. Not some arranged political marriage."

Each word is a knife, and she's enjoying the twist. I let my face crumble, let her see what she thinks is devastation.

"But the ceremony is in three days," I whisper. "Everyone's expecting—"

"That's why I wanted to meet." Davina leans forward, her voice dropping to something almost gentle. Almost. "Look, I don't want to humiliate you publicly. Despite what you might think, I'm not cruel. So here's what's going to happen. You're going to develop a sudden illness. Something that requires you to step back from the ceremony. Jefferson and I will handle the transition quietly, and in a few months, once the pack alliance is secured, we'll make our relationship official."

Luna thrashes against my control. The audacity. The absolute gall of this Omega to dictate terms to an Alpha's daughter.

I let my voice break. "I can't just... everyone will know. My father, the other Alphas—"

"They'll understand." Davina's tone turns sharp. "Or would you prefer I send those photos to every pack leader in the region? Let them see how your precious Jefferson spent last night worshipping his true mate?"

I drop my head into my hands, shoulders shaking with what she thinks are sobs. In reality, I'm calculating. Planning. Adjusting my strategy based on every word she says.

"I don't want to lose everything," I whisper through my fingers. "My reputation, my father's respect—"

"Then do what I say." Davina's voice carries that false sympathy again. "Step aside gracefully. Let Jefferson and me be together. You'll find another mate eventually. Someone more... suitable for you."

I lift my head slowly, letting tears streak down my face. "What if... what if there was another way?"

Her eyes narrow. "What do you mean?"

"The ceremony." I force the words out like they're painful. "If you really are Jefferson's true mate, if he really loves you—shouldn't you be the one standing at the Moon Altar with him?"

Davina goes very still. I can see the wheels turning in her mind, the desire warring with suspicion.

"The gown is already made," I continue, my voice small and defeated. "Custom-designed for the Luna ceremony. It would fit you—we're almost the same size. And if you showed up wearing it, if you walked down that aisle instead of me—" I let my voice break again. "Jefferson couldn't refuse you. Not in front of all those witnesses. He'd have to acknowledge you as his true mate."

Silence. Davina stares at me, and I can see her imagining it. The grand entrance. The shocked gasps. Jefferson's face when he sees her in that gown, sees her claiming her rightful place.

"The pack elders would never allow it," she says, but there's hunger in her voice.

"They won't know until it's too late." I lean forward, letting desperation color my words. "I'll tell everyone I'm sick. You show up in my place. By the time anyone realizes what's happening, you'll already be at the altar. Jefferson will have to make a choice in front of everyone—and we both know who he'll choose."

Davina's breathing quickens. I can smell her excitement, her ego swelling with the vision I'm painting.

"You'd do that?" she asks. "Just... give up?"

I let my shoulders slump in defeat. "I just want this to be over. I can't fight you both. And maybe—" I force my voice to crack. "Maybe you're right. Maybe you and Jefferson are meant to be together."

The lie tastes like ash, but I deliver it perfectly.

Davina sits back, a slow smile spreading across her face. "The white ceremonial gown. At the Moon Altar. In front of all the Alphas and Lunas."

"In front of everyone," I confirm, and Luna purrs with dark satisfaction.

Davina's smile turns triumphant. "Alright. I'll do it."

I stand on shaking legs—or at least, legs that appear to shake. "I'll have the gown delivered to you tomorrow. Just... please. Don't tell anyone it was my idea. Let people think you—"

"Took what was mine?" Davina finishes, standing as well. "Don't worry, Sapphire. I'll make sure everyone knows exactly who Jefferson's true mate is."

I nod, unable to speak past the false tears, and flee the cafe like a broken she-wolf.

Outside, I walk three blocks before ducking into an alley. Then I let my aura explode outward, let Luna's rage and satisfaction flood through me.

Reese appears from the shadows where she's been watching. "Did she take the bait?"

I look at my best friend and smile. Really smile. "Hook, line, and sinker. She's going to walk down that aisle in three days wearing my ceremonial gown."

"And when Jefferson sees her instead of you—"

"He'll refuse to mark her in front of everyone." My voice drops to something cold and lethal. "And that's when I make my entrance."

Reese's expression turns predatory. "This is going to be beautiful."

I touch the silver bracelet on my wrist—the twin to the one Davina wears—and Luna howls with anticipation.

"Beautiful," I agree. "And absolutely devastating."