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After My Alpha Abandoned Me for His Luna Novel Cover

After My Alpha Abandoned Me for His Luna

The guards' grip on my arms was bruising as they dragged me through the winding corridors of the Black Moon Pack house. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a desperate prayer that this was some mistake. But the heavy oak doors of Alpha Zayden's private suite slamming open before me told a different story. "Let her go," came the deep, commanding voice I knew all too well. The guards released me instantly, and I stumbled forward, catching myself against the ornate desk that dominated the room. Alpha Zayden stood by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the fading light, while Gamma Dante secured the doors behind us with a decisive click that echoed like a death knell. "Where is Luna Veronica?" Zayden's voice cut through the silence, his Alpha tone pressing against my chest like a physical weight. I struggled to breathe as his aura filled the room—pine and musk and something primal that made my knees weak. "What does she plan with those private meetings at the eastern border?" I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Arleth needed her medicine.
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Chapter 3

The pack square bustled with activity as I slipped through the shadows, my heart pounding against my ribs. I shouldn't be here—Zayden had ordered me to stay hidden—but I needed to see for myself. The crowd parted like a living wave, their whispers falling to hushed silence as a figure emerged from the tree line. Luna Veronica stumbled forward, her silver-blonde hair matted with what looked like blood, her normally immaculate clothes torn and stained. She leaned heavily on two guards, her face a perfect mask of trauma and defiance.

'The rogues,' she gasped, her voice carrying across the square. 'They ambushed me at the eastern border. I barely escaped with my life.'

The pack erupted in outraged howls. I watched from my hiding place, my fingers digging into the rough bark of the tree I crouched behind. Something wasn't right. The blood on her clothes seemed too dark, too evenly distributed. The tears in her fabric were too clean, too precise. My years of working with textiles had taught me to notice these things.

This wasn't a real attack. This was theater.

I should have looked away. I should have retreated to safety. But I couldn't tear my eyes from the spectacle of Veronica accepting the pack's sympathy, their furious promises to hunt down the rogues who had dared to touch their Luna. The performance was flawless—except to someone who knew fabric and blood as intimately as I did.

Hours later, I was back in Zayden's suite, trying to make sense of what I'd seen. The door opened without warning, and Veronica swept in, her wounds already bandaged, her aura crackling with power. She paused mid-step, her nostrils flaring.

'Do I smell vanilla in here?' she asked sharply, her eyes scanning the room before landing on me. 'Your scent, Omega.'

I froze, my breath catching in my throat. She crossed the room in three swift strides, her Alpha tone pressing against my chest like a physical weight.

'You've been here, in my Alpha's private chambers,' she said, each word precise and cutting. 'With him. And Dante.' Her eyes narrowed. 'Interesting.'

The jealousy in her voice was unmistakable. I watched as her mind worked behind those cold blue eyes, calculating, planning. She knew about the mate bond. She recognized the threat I posed to her carefully constructed world.

'I was detained for questioning,' I said carefully, trying to keep my voice steady. 'About your disappearance.'

'Of course you were,' she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. 'And now I need you. My assistant.' She turned on her heel, her voice honey-sweet but laced with venom. 'Come to my office. I have... questions.'

I followed her through the corridors, my stomach twisting with dread. In her private office, she circled me like a predator, her Alpha tone slicing through the air.

'Tell me, Omega,' she purred, 'what did you discuss with our Alpha and Gamma while I was away? Did they share... confidences? Did they show you... attention?'

Each question was a blade, probing for weaknesses. I answered carefully, but my mind was racing. As I spoke, I felt something flutter to the floor—a scrap of Arleth's dress sketch that must have fallen from my pocket.

Veronica's eyes snapped to it, a cruel smirk spreading across her face as she bent to pick it up. 'So this is what you've been working on,' she said, her fingers tracing the delicate lines. 'A dress. How... domestic.'

The way she held it, like it was something dirty, made my blood boil. But it was the calculating look in her eyes that truly terrified me. She was planning something, and I was the target.

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