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After My Alpha's Lies, I Found Freedom Novel Cover

After My Alpha's Lies, I Found Freedom

I stood at the edge of the grand hall, my fingers trembling around the ceremonial silver goblet. Five years of practice had taught me how to move through these events like a ghost—seen but not truly present. The annual inter-pack alliance ceremony was the most important diplomatic event of the year, and as Luna of the Shadowmoon Pack, my role was simple: smile, nod, and reflect well on my Alpha. My Alpha. The words tasted bitter in my mind. Marcus Sterling was never truly mine, nor I his. The mate mark on my neck burned with phantom pain, a constant reminder of our fraudulent bond. "Luna Elena," a voice called, pulling me from my thoughts. "The Blackthorn delegation awaits your greeting." I moved forward, the weight of my ceremonial gown dragging behind me like chains. The visiting Alphas and Lunas stood in a semicircle, their eyes calculating as they assessed me—the famously quiet, submissive Luna of the powerful Shadowmoon Pack.
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Chapter 2

My hands trembled as I scrawled the desperate message on a scrap of parchment. The pack ravens were only meant for official communications, but I had no other choice. Sarah's return had shattered what little stability I had left, and Marcus's attack had left my wolf weaker than ever. My leg throbbed with a pain that should have healed days ago.

"David Chen, Crescent Territory. Urgent assistance needed. Elena Matthews."

I tied the note to the raven's leg with shaking fingers, whispering a silent prayer to the Moon Goddess that it would reach him. As the bird took flight, disappearing into the twilight sky, I felt a flicker of something I hadn't experienced in five years—hope.

Two days later, I slipped away from the pack house, claiming a need for fresh air to help my healing. No one questioned me; I had become invisible in my own home, a ghost drifting through rooms where I didn't belong. The irony wasn't lost on me—I had been forced to become a phantom, and now I was treated as one.

The Moonlight Café sat just beyond our territory borders, a neutral meeting ground frequented by werewolves from various packs. I chose a corner table, my back to the wall, my eyes constantly scanning for any Shadowmoon pack members who might report back to Marcus.

When David walked in, my breath caught in my throat. He was taller than I remembered, his shoulders broader, but his eyes—those kind, intelligent eyes—hadn't changed. He spotted me immediately, his expression shifting from professional detachment to shock as he took in my appearance.

"Elena," he whispered, sliding into the seat across from me. "What happened to you?"

I tried to smile, but my lips trembled too much to form the shape. "It's a long story."

"I have time," he said softly, reaching across the table.

When his fingers touched mine, electricity shot up my arm. My wolf, weak and fading as she was, suddenly stirred within me, reaching desperately toward him. David's eyes widened, his pupils dilating as he felt it too—the unmistakable pull of true mates.

He jerked his hand back as if burned, confusion and something deeper flashing across his face. "That's... that's not possible. You're mated to Alpha Sterling."

"Forcibly," I whispered, the word hanging between us like a curse. "David, I need your help. I need to break the mate bond with Marcus."

His expression hardened into something fierce and protective. "Tell me everything."

For the next hour, I poured out the nightmare of the past five years—the identity swap, the forced mating, Marcus's cruelty, and now, Sarah's impossible return. David listened without interruption, his jaw tightening with each new revelation.

When I finished, he pulled out a leather-bound notebook and began writing in swift, precise strokes. "Werewolf law is clear on this. A mate bond formed under duress, especially with evidence of ongoing abuse and fraud, can be dissolved by the Inter-Pack Council."

"What would I need?" My voice sounded stronger than I felt.

"Evidence. Documentation of the abuse. Witnesses willing to testify." He looked up, his eyes meeting mine. "And you'd be entitled to a quarter of the pack's assets and territory."

"Half," I said, surprising myself with my boldness. "I want half."

A smile—small but genuine—curved his lips. "We can push for that."

I reached for his hand again, needing to feel that connection, that confirmation that I wasn't completely broken. This time, he didn't pull away. The mate pull hummed between us, a quiet promise of what could be.

"I need to record him," I said, my mind racing ahead. "Catch him admitting to what he's done."

David nodded, squeezing my hand. "Be careful, Elena. If he suspects what you're doing..."

"I know the risk." I withdrew my hand reluctantly. "But I'm already dying. My wolf is fading. I have nothing left to lose."

Three days later, I positioned myself in the pack library, my phone hidden beneath a stack of books. Marcus rarely came here—he considered reading beneath an Alpha—but I'd left a financial report that required his signature prominently displayed on the main table.

The door swung open with unnecessary force, announcing his arrival before I saw him. "This couldn't wait until dinner?" he growled, stalking toward me.

I pressed record on my phone, keeping my eyes downcast. "I thought you'd want to review the northern territory accounts immediately."

"What I want," he said, his voice dropping to that dangerous register that made my skin crawl, "is a Luna who isn't dragging around the pack house like a wounded animal. Your leg should have healed by now. Your wolf is pathetically weak."

I flinched, not entirely for show. "I'm trying to—"

"You're not trying hard enough!" His fist slammed onto the table, making me jump. "Five years, and you're still a poor substitute. You're nothing but a phantom, Elena. A ghost wearing my real mate's face."

My phone made a small notification sound, and Marcus's eyes narrowed. Before I could react, he snatched the device from beneath the books, his face contorting with rage as he saw the recording in progress.

"You dare?" he snarled, his fingers tightening around my phone until the screen cracked. "You dare try to trap me?"

He threw the shattered device against the wall, the pieces scattering across the polished floor like my broken hopes. He leaned in close, his breath hot against my face.

"You're nothing but a phantom," he repeated, each word a knife. "And phantoms don't get to haunt me."

As he stormed out, slamming the door behind him, I stared at the remains of my phone. The recording was gone, but his words echoed in my mind. A phantom. A ghost.

But ghosts, I realized with growing determination, could be more dangerous than the living. And I was done being invisible.

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