After My Husband Lied, My Luna Awakened

I hummed softly as I stirred the pasta sauce, adding a pinch of oregano the way Noah liked it. The small kitchen in his apartment filled with the rich aroma of tomatoes and herbs. Outside the window, the Colorado mountains were bathed in the golden light of sunset, painting the sky in hues of orange and pink. Three years in this small town, and I still hadn't tired of the view. "Almost ready," I called out, though I knew Noah was in his study, probably handling pack business. He'd been especially busy lately with his cousin Lily's treatments. Poor thing. The rare wolf disease affecting her was draining not only emotionally but financially. I'd given nearly all my teacher's salary to help with the medical bills, but it was worth it. Noah had been so grateful, so loving.

Chapters

Chapter 2

I clutched the small gift in my trembling hands as the shuttle made its way toward Denver. The handkerchief I'd spent nights stitching—a simple wolf print design on white cotton—now seemed pathetic compared to Noah's grand gesture with the moon flowers. But it was all I could afford after years of emptying my savings for Lily's treatments.

The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the highway, much like the doubts stretching across my mind. What was I doing? After what I'd overheard, why was I going to this dinner at all?

*Because you need answers*, my wolf whispered, stirring from her long dormancy. *Because you need to look him in the eyes when he tells you the truth.*

My wolf had been quiet for so long—ever since Ethan's rejection three years ago. Her sudden voice startled me, but I welcomed her presence. I'd need her strength tonight.

The shuttle pulled up to the curb outside Silvermoon, one of Denver's most exclusive restaurants. My heart sank as I took in the elegant entrance, flanked by arrangements of pristine white roses and silver moon symbols—traditional decorations for pack ceremonies, not simple reconciliation dinners.

I glanced down at my simple blue dress and worn cardigan. I'd chosen my best outfit, but standing before the restaurant's gleaming facade, I felt woefully underdressed. Pack members in formal attire streamed through the entrance, the women in flowing gowns, the men in tailored suits. They cast curious glances my way, some whispering behind manicured hands.

"Is that her?"

"The teacher he's been stringing along?"

"Poor thing has no idea..."

Their whispers reached my ears despite their attempts at discretion. My cheeks burned with humiliation, but I squared my shoulders and approached the entrance. Whatever game Noah was playing, I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing me run away.

As I reached the door, Noah appeared, looking devastatingly handsome in a charcoal suit that probably cost more than three months of my salary. His dark hair was perfectly styled, his smile dazzling—but it didn't reach his eyes. Those remained cold, calculating, with a glint of something I'd never noticed before.

"Olivia!" He greeted me loudly, ensuring everyone nearby could hear. "Our honored guest has arrived!"

His words carried a mocking undertone that made my stomach clench. This wasn't the Noah who had knelt before me in the town square. This was someone else entirely—or perhaps the real Noah, finally dropping his mask.

"What is this?" I whispered, clutching my small package tighter. "You said a reconciliation dinner—"

"And so it is," he replied smoothly, taking my elbow in a grip that appeared gentle to onlookers but felt like iron against my skin. "Among other things."

He steered me through the entrance, past more elegantly dressed pack members who parted to let us through. Betas and Deltas, I realized, noting their strong auras. They watched me with a mixture of curiosity and thinly veiled amusement, like I was the entertainment for the evening.

"Noah," I tried again, my voice barely audible over the soft music playing in the background. "Please tell me what's happening."

"Patience, little sparrow," he murmured, using the pet name that once made my heart flutter but now turned my blood cold. "The night is young, and we have quite the show planned."

As we moved deeper into the restaurant, I caught sight of a large screen being set up at the far end of the main dining room. Tables had been arranged in a semicircle facing it, with one table on a slightly raised platform at the center. Seated there, resplendent in a crimson gown that highlighted her perfect figure, was Victoria.

She raised her champagne glass in my direction, her smile predatory.

My wolf growled deep within me, a warning too late in coming. *Danger. Trap. Run.*

But Noah's grip tightened as if he sensed my impulse to flee. "Come now, Olivia. Everyone's waiting to see what the naive country teacher brought to her boyfriend's mate ceremony."

Continue to next part

My daughter Jodie died in my arms. The doctor' s words were a death sentence: "Severe neglect. Malnutrition. Multiple internal injuries." But my husband, the famous life coach Julian Maynard, didn't mourn. He issued a public statement. He called Jodie a "challenging child" and twisted her death into a tragedy about mental health, all to enhance his compassionate image. He even publicly forgave the boy who had tormented her, the same boy he brought into our home to teach Jodie "resilience." My own life ended in a fire, a final, violent release from a world of his making. As the flames consumed me, I couldn't understand. How could the man I loved build his legacy on the grave of our daughter and the ruins of my life? Then, I opened my eyes. The divorce papers sat on the table, his signature a stark black stain. It was years earlier. Before the fire. Before Jodie died.

Modern Romance

9.5

Erase My Love, Forget His Face

9.5

The first clue my life was a lie was a moan from the guest room. My husband of seven years wasn't in our bed. He was with my intern. I discovered my husband, Brendan, was having a four-year affair with Kiya-the talented girl I was mentoring and personally paying tuition for. The next morning, she sat at our breakfast table in his shirt while he made us pancakes. He lied to my face, promising he'd never love another, just before I learned she was pregnant with his child-a child he'd always refused to have with me. The two people I trusted most in the world had conspired to destroy me. The pain wasn't something I could live with; it was an annihilation of my entire world. So I made a call to a neuroscientist about his experimental, irreversible procedure. I didn't want revenge. I wanted to erase every memory of my husband and become his first test subject.

Action Modern Romance

8.4

From Hostage to Heroine

8.4

The conference room felt suffocating despite its expansive glass walls overlooking the city. I sat rigid in my chair, trying to ignore the whispers rippling through the assembled colleagues as Logan stood at the head of the table, his expression carved from stone. "The situation is straightforward," he announced, his voice carrying that clinical detachment I'd learned to recognize over the past months. "The rival faction has Marie and Audrey. They've demanded an exchange—one of ours for both of them." My fingers traced invisible patterns on the polished mahogany, a nervous habit I couldn't shake. Around me, executives shifted uncomfortably. Someone coughed. The air conditioning hummed with mechanical indifference. "Whitney will go," Logan continued, and the room tilted. For a moment, I convinced myself I'd misheard.

Action Modern Romance

9.8

Released from prison: My billionaire ex begs me back

9.8

When the enigmatic Mrs. Blackwood finally emerged in River City, she set the whole town abuzz. Arrested and imprisoned for the attempted murder of Mr. Blackwood's once-cherished first love, she vanished behind bars. Outside the prison, Mr. Blackwood kept his daily vigil-waiting. What finally came out, though, was Mrs. Blackwood's lifeless form. and a baby boy. Six years later- Clara Walton returned, no longer bearing the name Blackwood. By her side stood a bright-eyed, handsome little boy. When she saw Mr. Blackwood again, she met him with a radiant smile. "Mr. Blackwood, I'm married now. I suggest you mind your manners." With a sly smirk, he replied, "It's true-you're married. But that doesn't mean I can't pursue you. After all, I'm still free-and single." Clara: ".."

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.1

Scarred by His Betrayal

9.1

I stared at the television screen, my fingers clutching the remote so tightly my knuckles turned white. The late-night entertainment show's host spoke with exaggerated excitement, but I barely registered her words. All I could see was my husband—my secret husband—kissing another woman with a passion he hadn't shown me in years. "The chemistry between Jackson Hayes and Isabella Romano is absolutely electric!" the host gushed. "Sources on set say these two can't keep their hands off each other even when the cameras stop rolling." The segment cut to behind-the-scenes footage: Jackson's hand resting on Isabella's lower back, her head thrown back in laughter at something he whispered in her ear. His smile—that devastating smile that once belonged only to me—lighting up his entire face. "Just friends?" the host winked at the camera. "We think not!" I clicked off the TV and let the remote drop onto the couch beside me. Our West Hollywood apartment fell into silence, the kind that rings in your ears and makes you feel the emptiness of the space around you. Four years of marriage, and this was what I had to show for it: a lonely apartment and entertainment shows speculating about my husband's love life while I sat in the shadows.

Billionaire Modern Romance

9.6

Sweet Revenge Of The Stolen Heiress

9.6

I was only three and a half years old, living in a damp basement and beaten daily by Enoch Pruitt with a heavy leather whip. "Get up, you useless waste of space!" He always told me I was a stray he had picked out of the garbage. But during one brutal beating that nearly stopped my heart, time froze, and a glowing figure called The Chronicler appeared. "You are not an abandoned orphan, Clare. You carry the blood of the highest gods." He revealed that I was the stolen daughter of the ultra-wealthy Barrett family. Then, he showed me the horrific ending of my previous life. I had died right here on this bloody dirt floor. My real parents and three brothers went completely insane with grief, turning into ruthless monsters who destroyed themselves and the entire world to avenge me. Meanwhile, the Pruitt family kept torturing me, locking me in a woodshed and feeding me moldy bread. The memory of my bones breaking and my real mother's agonizing screams crushed my chest. Why did I have to suffer like an animal while my true family tore the world apart looking for me? This time, I refused to die in the mud. I accepted my divine blood, my eyes glowing gold as I summoned a bolt of purple lightning to strike my abuser. I just needed to survive the night. Because my real father's heavily armed convoy was already tearing up the mountain, ready to burn this hell to the ground.

Action Billionaire Horror LitRPG Modern

After My Husband Lied, My Luna Awakened

Chapter 2

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