After My Alpha Betrayed Me, I Became His Uncle's Luna

Two nights after I walked out of my father's house, the crystal chandeliers of the Blackwood estate illuminated my new reality.

"They are staring," Lucien murmured, handing me a crystal flute of champagne.

"Let them stare," I replied, taking the glass.

Our engagement announcement had hit the pack network at dawn. Now, the grand hall buzzed with frantic whispers. Eyes darted toward us, judging my sapphire gown and the way Lucien stood a mere inch from my shoulder.

"Well, well. I have to admit, you went all out for this tantrum."

Damien pushed through the crowd, a smug grin plastered across his face. Vanessa trailed right behind him, clinging to his bicep. She wore a crimson dress that dipped dangerously low, showcasing the mark Damien had freshly bitten into her collarbone.

"Alpha Damien," Lucien greeted, his tone flat. "You are blocking the walkway."

Damien ignored his uncle entirely. He locked his gaze on me, his eyes raking over my dress with obvious disdain. "Did you honestly think using my uncle would make me jealous, Aurora?"

"Jealousy requires me to care about your feelings," I said. "I don't."

Damien chuckled, adjusting his silk tie. "Drop the act. You threw a fit at the altar, and now you are playing a desperate game of spite. I am willing to be generous, though."

"Generous," I repeated, the word tasting like ash.

"Yes. Get on your knees right now. Apologize to me for embarrassing my family. Then apologize to Vanessa for your baseless accusations." Damien crossed his arms. "Do that, and I might consider taking you back as my mate."

I stared at him, marveling at his sheer arrogance. "You mated with her in a VIP lounge, Damien. There were no baseless accusations. Just your lack of zipper control."

Damien's jaw locked. "I am the future Alpha! You are nothing without me. You are wearing his colors, but you are still wearing my mark of rejection. You think the pack elders will accept a tainted female? My uncle is just using you to cause a scene. He pities you."

"I rejected you," I reminded him. "My soul is perfectly clean."

Vanessa stepped forward, dropping her sweet, innocent facade. Her lips curled into a vicious sneer. She looked me up and down, her eyes filled with toxic triumph.

"You are a liar," Vanessa chimed in. "You planned this. You wanted Lucien all along, didn't you? That is why you made up those lies about us."

"Lies?" I laughed aloud, the sound cutting through the tension. "Half the pack heard you begging for him in the lounge. You aren't a victim, Vanessa. You are just a very loud mistress."

"Vanessa," Damien warned softly, though he did nothing to pull her back.

"No, let her hear the truth," Vanessa continued, her voice rising. "Damien is the heir. When he takes the Alpha seat, I will be the Luna. You will live in the shadows of this estate."

She stepped closer, lowering her voice to a venomous hiss meant only for me. "You will kneel at my feet and beg for scraps. I will make sure your life here is a living hell. You will scrub the floors of this very ballroom."

I didn't flinch. I took a slow sip of my champagne. "You talk too much for someone who hasn't secured a ring. Where is your diamond, Vanessa? Did he give you the one I dropped on the floor?"

Vanessa's face flushed a violent red. She raised her hand, aiming a slap right at my cheek.

Before she could swing, Lucien caught her wrist. He didn't squeeze, but the sheer force of his grip made her gasp in pain.

"Keep your hands to yourself, Miss Holloway," Lucien warned. His voice was a low rumble that cut through the surrounding chatter. He dropped her arm as if she were diseased.

Lucien turned his back on them and signaled the string quartet to stop playing. The sudden silence swallowed the ballroom. Hundreds of guests turned their attention to us. The clinking of glasses ceased.

"Pack members," Lucien projected his voice, commanding absolute authority. "There seems to be some confusion regarding the announcement made this morning. Some whisper that this is a political stunt. Others whisper that my nephew still holds a claim to this woman."

Damien smirked, leaning toward me. "See? He is calling off the joke. Get ready to beg, Aurora."

Lucien reached into his tailored jacket. "Let me be absolutely clear. There is no joke."

He didn't pull out a microphone or a prepared speech. He pulled out a small, velvet box.

"Aurora Ashford is not a guest in this house," Lucien declared, his silver eyes sweeping over the crowd, daring anyone to challenge him. "She is my fiancée. And she will be the only future Luna of the Blackwood pack."

Gasps erupted from the elite families.

Lucien opened the box. Resting on the black satin was a massive, blood-red ruby encased in twisted silver wolves.

Damien's smirk vanished. His face went entirely pale. "Uncle, no. That is the Matriarch Ring. That belongs to the reigning Luna."

"It belongs to the woman who will rule by my side," Lucien corrected.

He took my left hand. His thumbs brushed over my knuckles, warm and steady. He slid the heavy, ancient ring onto my finger. The ancestral magic within the metal flared instantly, sending a jolt of heat up my arm. The ruby glowed under the chandelier light.

The crowd erupted into chaos. Pack elders whispered furiously, pointing at the ring. The shift in power was undeniable. Lucien wasn't just marrying me; he was officially staking his claim on the Alpha title.

"You cannot do this!" Damien shouted, stepping toward his uncle. His fists shook at his sides. "I am the heir! I am the next Alpha!"

"You are a boy who cannot keep his pants on during a diplomatic summit," Lucien said. His volume remained normal, yet the insult carried across the silent room like a gunshot. "I am stepping up to lead. Aurora will stand beside me."

Damien stared at the ruby on my finger. The reality of the situation finally hit him. I wasn't playing a game. I was taking his throne.

"This is not over," Damien snarled, his chest heaving. He spun around and stormed toward the exit, shoving a waiter out of his path.

I watched him leave, a deep sense of satisfaction settling in my chest. He was losing control, and he knew it.

I turned to look for Vanessa. She was no longer standing at the edge of the crowd.

Through the glass doors leading to the terrace, I spotted her crimson dress. She stood in the shadows of the stone balcony, her phone pressed to her ear.

She ended the call and pulled a small, unmarked glass vial from her clutch purse. She handed it to one of the catering staff lingering near the garden steps.

"Put this in the ceremonial chalice tomorrow," Vanessa instructed the server, pressing a thick stack of cash into his palm. "Make sure she drinks every last drop."