20 Years His Luna, Branded a Rogue for a Vanilla Omega Novel Cover

20 Years His Luna, Branded a Rogue for a Vanilla Omega

8.0 / 10.0
"Bow to your true Luna, Mother, or I will break your legs myself." The ceremonial hall went dead silent as Jace, the son I carried for nine months and trained to be the future Alpha, placed the ancestral silver diadem onto Lyra's head. My husband of twenty years stood beside them, his hand resting protectively on the young Omega's waist. They pointed at the shattered ritual chalice at my feet, declaring my blood toxic, a curse to the pack's prosperity. Kael's claws extended, ripping the Luna mark from my collarbone in front of the entire assembly. The rogue brand seared into my ruined shoulder. Blood dripped down my fingers, hitting the snow as the massive, shadow-draped gates of the Northern Fortress slowly creaked open.

20 Years His Luna, Branded a Rogue for a Vanilla Omega Chapter 1

"The Alpha is late," Elder Thorne grumbled. He crossed his thick arms over his chest, glaring at the forest path.

"Kael is never late for the Full Moon Festival," I replied.

I stood perfectly still at the center of the stone altar. The heavy silver chalice rested securely in my hands. Beside me, sitting on a dark velvet pillow, was the ancestral Luna diadem. It was a crown of woven silver branches, ancient and heavy with the history of our pack.

"He knows the pack requires the blessing before midnight," Thorne insisted.

"Have a little faith, Thorne," I said. "He leads the patrol. Sometimes the borders require extra attention."

"The borders have been quiet for weeks."

"Then he is preparing himself."

A low murmur rippled through the gathered crowd. I lifted my chin, searching the sea of expectant faces. The bonfire cracked violently, shooting bright orange sparks into the black sky.

"There," a young warrior pointed toward the tree line. "He's coming."

I smiled. I adjusted my grip on the chalice, ready to step forward and greet my mate.

Then the scent hit me.

It wasn't the sharp pine and rain of my husband. It was vanilla. Cloying, sweet, overpowering vanilla.

"What is that smell?" Thorne demanded, his nose wrinkling in confusion.

"I don't know," I answered.

The crowd parted. Kael stepped into the ring of firelight.

He did not look at me. His gaze remained fixed on the altar, his expression entirely unreadable.

"Kael," I called out.

He didn't answer.

He tugged his right arm forward. A young woman stepped out from behind his broad frame. She was small, fragile-looking, and radiated the scent of a young Omega.

Kael's large hand was wrapped tightly around hers.

"Who is this?" Thorne shouted over the rising whispers of the pack.

"Silence," Kael commanded.

The clearing fell dead quiet.

I stepped down from the altar, carrying the chalice with me. "Kael. Explain this."

"There is nothing to explain," he stated plainly. "This is Lyra."

"Why are you holding her hand?"

Lyra shrank back, pressing her shoulder against Kael's chest. "I told you she would be angry, Alpha."

"Do not fear her," Kael told the girl. He finally met my eyes. "Lyra is my chosen."

The chalice slipped a fraction in my grip. "Your chosen? We have been mated for twenty years."

"And for twenty years, the pack has stagnated," Kael countered. "We need new blood. We need a future."

"I gave you a future!" I yelled. "I gave you an heir!"

"You gave us one son," an unfamiliar voice rang out from the back.

The crowd shifted again. Jace pushed his way to the front. My eighteen-year-old boy, the pride of my life, marched into the firelight.

"Jace," I breathed out, relief flooding my chest. "Talk to your father. Tell him this is a mistake."

Jace stopped beside Kael. He did not look at me. Instead, he turned his attention to the Omega.

"Are you cold, Lyra?" Jace asked.

My jaw dropped.

"A little," Lyra murmured.

Jace unclasped his heavy fur cloak and draped it over her shoulders.

"What are you doing?" I asked, my voice rising in pitch. "Jace!"

My son finally looked at me. His eyes were wide, glowing with a fanatic intensity I had never seen before.

"I am serving the pack, Mother."

"By coddling a stray Omega?"

"Do not speak about her that way," Jace snapped. He took a step toward me. "The Moon Goddess sent her to us. Can't you smell her? She is pure."

"She is a threat to our family!"

"She is the salvation of our family," Kael interrupted.

I looked between the two men. My husband. My son. They stood as a united wall, guarding a stranger.

"Thorne," I commanded, turning to the elder. "Remove this girl from the sacred grounds."

Thorne hesitated, looking at Kael.

"No one touches her," Kael warned.

"I am the Luna!" I screamed.

"Not anymore," Jace said.

He closed the distance between us in two long strides.

"Jace, stop right there," I ordered.

He ignored me. He reached past my shoulder, aiming for the velvet pillow on the altar.

"Don't you dare," I hissed, shifting my body to block him.

Jace shoved me. Hard.

My boots slid in the dirt. The heavy silver chalice fell from my hands, clattering against the stones. Red wine splashed across the hem of my white dress, looking exactly like fresh blood.

"Get out of the way," Jace growled.

He grabbed the silver diadem.

My hands shot out to stop him. My fingers closed around empty air.

I froze. My arms hovered in the space between us. My knuckles turned stark, bone-white as I clenched my fists tight enough to crack the joints.

"Put it down," I whispered.

Jace turned his back on me.

A sharp, violent cramp ripped through my stomach. I doubled over slightly, gasping. I dug my fingernails into the soft flesh of my palms. I pressed harder, and harder, until the skin tore. Warm, dark red blood seeped through my fingers and dripped onto the earth.

"Father," Jace called out, holding the crown high.

Kael nodded. "Proceed."

"This belongs to the one who will truly lead us," Jace announced to the silent crowd. "The one who carries the true blessing."

He lowered the woven silver branches onto Lyra's head.

The metal settled into her blonde hair. She looked up at Jace, a shy smile playing on her lips.

"Thank you, Jace," she said softly.

"My life is yours, Luna," Jace replied.

I stared at my husband's cold, unmoving jawline. I looked at my son's feverish, worshipful eyes.

Tears did not come. Panic did not come.

Instead, a laugh ripped out of my throat.

It was loud, harsh, and entirely devoid of humor. The sound echoed off the dark trees, cutting through the crackle of the bonfire.

Thorne flinched. The younger warriors shifted nervously on their feet.

Lyra grabbed Kael's arm. "Why is she laughing?"

"Because she has lost her mind," Kael muttered.

I wiped my bleeding palms against my ruined dress. "You think stealing a piece of jewelry changes who I am?"

"Shut up," Jace barked.

"I bled for this pack," I continued, taking a step toward them. "I fought rogue wolves while you hid in the manor, Kael. I raised you, Jace, when the healers said you wouldn't survive the winter."

"You did what was expected," Kael replied, his voice flat.

"And now you replace me with a child who shivers in the summer wind?"

Jace spun around. His hand flew to his waist.

Leather scraped against metal. He pulled his ceremonial bone blade from its sheath.

"I told you to shut up!" Jace yelled.

He charged.

Before I could react, he was in front of me. The firelight flashed off the sharpened edge of the weapon.

He thrust his arm forward. The cold tip of the bone blade pressed directly against the skin of my throat.

I didn't blink. I didn't move away from the knife.

"Bow to the true Luna."

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20 Years His Luna, Branded a Rogue for a Vanilla Omega of Contents

Ch. 1 Ch. 2 Ch. 3
Ch. 4
Ch. 5
Ch. 6
Ch. 7
Ch. 8
Ch. 9
Ch. 10
Ch. 11
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