When My Husband Betrayed Me, Luna Roared Loudly

Three days had passed since I discovered James's betrayal. Three days of smiling through dinner, of lying beside him at night with my back turned, claiming exhaustion. Three days of my wolf, Luna, shifting from howling pain to cold, calculating silence within me.

The news of the rogue attack spread through the pack like wildfire. I was in the kitchen preparing breakfast when Marcus Kane, our Gamma, burst through the door.

"Alpha," he addressed James, who sat at the table reviewing territory maps. "Rogues hit the eastern border. Minor casualties, but Ashley's cabin took the worst of it. The door's completely caved in."

James's scent spiked with anxiety—subtle enough that most wouldn't notice, but after ten years as mates, I could detect every nuance of his emotions. His eyes darted to me for a split second before returning to Marcus.

"How long until repairs?"

"At least a week, Alpha. The structural damage is significant."

I placed a steaming mug of coffee before James, my fingers brushing his shoulder in a gesture of wifely concern. "That's terrible," I said, my voice the perfect blend of sympathy and helpfulness. "Ashley shouldn't have to stay in the communal quarters while training for such an important position."

James's shoulders tensed beneath my touch. "The pack can accommodate—"

"Why not invite her to stay here?" The words left my mouth with practiced ease, as if they were a casual suggestion rather than the first move in a meticulously planned game. "We have the guest suite in the east wing. It would be the proper thing for an Alpha to offer his beta-in-training."

James nearly choked on his coffee. "Here? In the Alpha den?"

"Of course." I smiled, meeting his gaze with innocent eyes. "It's what any good Luna would suggest."

Marcus nodded approvingly. "That's very generous of you, Luna Olivia."

"It's settled then," I said before James could formulate an objection. "I'll prepare the room myself."

As I turned away, I caught the flash of panic in James's eyes—the look of a man who suddenly found himself trapped between his secret lover and his unsuspecting mate, forced to live under one roof.

Luna purred with satisfaction inside me.

---

That afternoon, I slipped into James's study while he was out handling the aftermath of the attack. From my pocket, I withdrew three small crystals, each no larger than a river stone, etched with ancient moonstone patterns. Few remembered these old ways—tracking crystals used by pack historians to record important ceremonies. I had studied them extensively during my time at the Lycan Royal Academy.

I placed the first crystal behind his bookshelf, angling it toward his desk where he and Ashley had entangled themselves days before. The second went beneath the ornate rug in our bedroom. The third, I saved for the ceremonial chamber—the most sacred space in the Alpha den, where only the Alpha and Luna were permitted.

Each crystal was carefully tuned to my energy, allowing me to access their recordings at will. They would capture not just sounds but scents—evidence that would be irrefutable in werewolf society, where scent was sacred truth.

"Perfect," I whispered, activating the final crystal with a drop of my blood. Luna's presence swelled within me, her intelligence merging with mine as we set our trap.

---

Ashley arrived at sunset, her belongings in a single duffel bag, her face a mask of feigned humility that couldn't quite hide the triumphant gleam in her eyes.

"This is so generous of you, Luna Olivia," she said, her tone dripping with false gratitude. "I hope I'm not imposing."

"Not at all," I replied, leading her to the guest suite. "The pack takes care of its own."

James hovered nearby, his scent a chaotic mix of desire and dread. "Ashley, remember you're here as our guest. Respect the Alpha den's protocols."

I turned to him with a smile that didn't reach my eyes. "Don't be so formal, James. Ashley is practically pack leadership now. She should feel at home."

That night, I prepared dinner myself—raw boar ribs marinated in herbs and blood, Ashley's favorite according to pack gossip. I served them personally, placing the largest portion before her.

"Luna Olivia, these look amazing," Ashley said, her eyes darting between James and me.

"Please, call me Olivia," I insisted, taking my seat beside James. Under the table, I felt his leg trembling slightly. "After all, we'll be living together for quite some time."

I raised my glass in a toast, meeting Ashley's gaze directly. "To new arrangements."

James's hand shook as he lifted his glass, spilling a drop of wine onto the white tablecloth—a small red stain spreading slowly outward, like the first blood of a battle yet to come.