
Betrayed By My Alpha: The Ghost Luna's Revenge
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I died alone in the medical wing giving birth to our son.
"Tell her to calm down and stop the theatrics."
Those were the last words my mate, the Alpha, said about me while I bled out.
Instead of passing on, my soul was tethered to the packhouse. I was forced to watch my best friend Seraphina seamlessly step into my life, taking my baby and my husband before my body was even cold.
To secure her place, she planted my blood-soaked birthing blanket in the woods to frame me for faking my own kidnapping.
Ryker swallowed her lies completely. He refused to send a search party, telling the entire pack my disappearance was just a pathetic plea for attention and money.
As a helpless ghost, I watched Seraphina brainwash my one-year-old son into calling her his mother and teach him to joyfully trample my beloved garden.
"Bad mommy ran away. Don't love Kaelen."
Hearing my own child parrot those venomous words was a dagger to my soul.
Whenever anyone questioned my absence, Ryker fiercely defended her, dismissing the desperate warnings of my loyal friends and his own elders.
The man I loved and died for treated my memory like a malicious joke, grateful for an excuse to replace me while living with my murderer.
But when Seraphina's mask finally slipped, and the horrifying truth of my death crashed down on him, it was far too late.
Seeing him crumble in agonizing regret brought me no comfort.
I no longer wanted his love or his desperate apologies.
Now, I only wanted his absolute ruin.
Betrayed By My Alpha: The Ghost Luna's Revenge Chapter 1
Debra's POV:
I stood in a corner, looking at the grand wedding in front of me, the crowd coming and going. However, instead of feeling festive, my heart was full of unwillingness and grievance.
Today was my father's second wedding, and the Silver Ridge Pack was holding a grand wedding ceremony for him since he was the Alpha.
Although this wasn't his first marriage, my father still attached great importance to it. He made sure that the wedding venue was decorated lavishly, and I overheard some people saying that it was even more beautiful than that of his wedding with my mother. My father had also invited many Alphas here, which showed how much he loved and respected his new bride.
But what he failed to realize was that today was also the death anniversary of my mother.
The wedding progressed smoothly, and everyone looked so happy. My mother's grave, on the other hand, was desolate and lonesome, without anyone there to visit her.
I didn't want to be at this stupid wedding. I just wanted to accompany my mother now.
"Debra, where are you going?"
A sharp female voice sounded from not far away, interrupting my conversation with Vicky Todd, my maid.
I turned to look in the direction of the voice and saw my stepmother, Marley Clarkson, and her servant walking to us.
Marley was much younger than my father. In fact, she was only four years older than me. She was the daughter of the Alpha of the Frosty River Pack and exceedingly beautiful. Marley's white wedding dress billowed in the breeze. Her wavy blonde hair framed her face perfectly. She looked as pretty as a porcelain doll.
Not wanting to talk to her, I turned my head away.
"Are you planning to miss an occasion as important as this and embarrass your father's Luna?" Marley demanded.
"Of course not!" Vicky hurriedly stepped in to mediate. "Debra's tired and wants to have a rest, that's all."
"Is that so?" Marley narrowed her eyes at me and suddenly cracked a smile. "Good. I want to talk to you about something."
"Why?" I asked, staring at her vigilantly.
I never got along with Marley, but for the sake of my father's happiness, I tried to stay out of her way as much as possible. And Marley never came to me on her own accord.
Now, she wanted to speak with me. My intuition told me that something bad was about to happen.
"Relax." Marley's grin widened. "I just want to borrow the necklace you're wearing. It'll go perfectly with my wedding dress."
"Sorry, but no." I refused without hesitation. "This was my mother's."
The necklace I was wearing was the only thing my mother had left me, and I treasured it dearly. It was my only connection to my mother. Whenever I was wearing it, I felt that my mother was close and had never left me.
Of course, I would never lend it to anyone, let alone my stepmother.
Marley seemed to read my mind. She softened her tone and said gently, "Why are you so cold to me? It's our first day together as a family."
If Marley treated me as a family like she claimed, she wouldn't have tried to take away my mother's last belonging.
"Sorry, but I can't lend it to you." I narrowed my eyes at her coldly.
"Then don't blame me. I need that necklace." Marley's gentle smile was instantly replaced by a sneer. She then signaled to her servants.
The two servants immediately sprang into action. One grabbed my left arm, while the other grabbed my right. They forced me to kneel, my knees hitting the ground hard.
Wincing in pain, I raised my head and saw Marley standing before me.
Her beautiful face was tainted with mockery. She stretched out her slender hand and yanked the necklace off my neck.
The next second, the clasp came undone and the necklace was taken away from me.
"What the hell are you doing?" I never thought this woman would be so shameless. "Marley, give me back my necklace!"
Even Vicky was aghast. "You can't do this! That necklace was given to Debra by her mother!"
As she spoke, Vicky hurried forward to block Marley from leaving.
One of the servants who were holding me kicked her away.
Vicky stumbled and fell, her forehead slamming into the stone pillar. Blood trickled down from the wound, staining her pale face.
Vicky was my mother's best friend. After my mother passed away, she stayed in the pack for my sake and remained single all her life. She practically raised me.
How dare Marley hurt her like this!
My wolf, Ivy, became restless. I, too, was driven mad with anger.
Ivy growled in my mind, "Rip them to shreds, Debra!"
But before I could do anything reckless, Vicky struggled to stand on her feet. Leaning on the stone pillar for support, she managed to cry out, "Debra, don't do anything rash!"
I knew she was right. Because Marley was now married to my father, she was officially the Luna of our pack. If I laid a finger on her, my father and all the members of our pack would sense it immediately.
As Vicky spoke, the blood trickled down from her eyebrow to her chin.
Seeing her like this made my heart ache so much. I rushed over to help her.
"Eww, this necklace is so cheap." A playful smile appeared on Marley's face as she took a closer look at my mother's necklace. "How could your mother leave you such a cheap thing? Pathetic!"
As she spoke, she fiddled with my necklace casually.
"Don't worry. I'll give it back to you. It's just a necklace. I'll have countless better necklaces now that I'm the Luna."
Click!
Marley threw my necklace to the ground as hard as she could. The chain instantly broke, and the gems clattered to the ground one by one.
The only thing my mother had left to me was ruined.
For a split second, I felt as though my heart was being squeezed by an invisible, oppressive force.
Ears buzzing, I knelt down to pick up the stray gems in a daze.
Suddenly, a sharp pain shot up from the back of my hand.
Marley had stepped on my hand.
She dug her high-heeled shoe into the back of my hand deeply.
"You are the daughter of a noble Alpha. How dare you touch dirty trash? Let go, my dear stepdaughter."
I slowly raised my head to look up at her, my eyes filled with hatred and anger.
"Fuck this bitch!" Ivy was so angry that she wanted to rip Marley to shreds. "Bitch, move your stinky foot away!"
Of course, Marley didn't budge. She had nothing to fear after all.
She smiled at me scornfully and warned, "Debra, you'd better learn how to respect your new Luna."
Just then, the wedding music started to play. Marley slowly removed her foot, straightened her dress, and walked away haughtily, followed by her servants.
Ignoring the pain in my hand, I continued to pick up the stray gems on the ground.
Now I understood why Marley wanted the necklace in the first place. It turned out she just wanted to send a message to me—loud and clear.
Up until this point, Marley had only avoided me because she hadn't married my father yet and wasn't officially the Luna. Today was her wedding. Now that she had the power, she wanted to teach her rebellious stepdaughter a lesson. She wanted to show me who the pack's real matriarch was.
"Oh, you poor thing..." Vicky sighed and helped me up. "Don't worry. I'll fix the necklace. I promise it'll look exactly like it used to."
"Thanks, Vicky." I forced a smile at her, trying my best to swallow my sadness.
The wedding of my father and Marley officially began.
Under the dazzling lights, my father and Marley celebrated their love, whereas the werewolves celebrated and welcomed their new Luna. No one noticed me, the pitiful, disheveled she-wolf in the corner, and no one remembered my dead mother.
Depressed and angry, I grabbed a whole bottle of wine and downed its contents in an effort to numb the pain.
I wasn't good at holding my alcohol. It didn't take long before my vision started to blur and my mind began to whirl.
But no matter how much I drank, I couldn't forget that fucking smile on Marley's face, which made me want to puke.
I couldn't stand it. I needed to get out of here.
Just as I turned around to leave, I inadvertently ran into the person standing behind me.
A hard chest met my back, solid as a rock wall.
Strong hands gripped my arms, steadying me before I could fall. An intoxicating scent of pine and winter frost filled my senses, cutting through the haze of alcohol and grief. It was clean, powerful, and utterly unfamiliar.
My head swam, but a strange jolt, like lightning, shot through me at his touch.
I looked up, and up, into the most striking pair of silver eyes I had ever seen. They were the color of a storm brewing over a frozen lake, and they were fixed on me with an unnerving intensity. The man was huge, towering over me, his presence radiating an aura of raw power that made the Alpha in my own father seem like a flickering candle.
He said nothing, just watched me, his expression unreadable.
I tried to pull away, suddenly aware of how pathetic I must look—drunk, disheveled, my eyes probably red from unshed tears. "Excuse me," I mumbled, my voice thick.
"Are you alright?" His voice was a deep, rumbling baritone that seemed to vibrate right through my bones.
Before I could answer, another voice cut through the air, sharp and furious.
“Debra! What in the Goddess’s name do you think you’re doing?”
I flinched. It was my father, Alpha Logan. He was striding towards us, his face a mask of thunder. Marley was at his side, her hand on his arm, a look of faux concern on her beautiful face.
“Making a scene with our guests? Have you no shame?” he growled, his eyes flashing with anger.
The man holding me didn't release his grip. He turned his head slightly to face my father. “My apologies, Alpha Logan. The fault is mine. I was in her way.”
His calm defense of me only seemed to infuriate my father more. He looked from the powerful Alpha back to me, his gaze filled with disgust.
“Go to your room. Now,” he commanded, his voice low and dangerous.
The last thread of my composure snapped. He hadn't asked if I was okay. He hadn't noticed the blood on Vicky's head or the agony in my heart. He only saw an embarrassment.
With a choked sob, I finally wrenched myself free from the stranger's grasp and fled. I didn't look back. Tears of shame and fury streamed down my face as I ran, leaving the music, the laughter, and my father's cold fury behind me.
Continue Reading
Betrayed By My Alpha: The Ghost Luna's Revenge of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6Chapter 7 Ch. 7Chapter 8 Ch. 8Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

7.6
When the Pollard family kicked Alyssa out into the freezing rain, Walter threw a ten-thousand-dollar check into a dirty puddle.
"Take it and get out. Don't ever come back," he sneered.
Her adoptive mother and stepsister stood on the mansion's porch, mocking her as a worthless country girl who tarnished their wealthy name. They laughed, claiming she wouldn't even be able to afford community college and would be begging on the streets in a week.
They looked at her cheap clothes and worn backpack with absolute disgust.
They were completely unaware that for the past five years, Alyssa was the secret mastermind who had built their failing gallery into a multi-million-dollar investment empire.
Every key investment, every fortune they made, came from the anonymous notes she had slipped into their unread books. They genuinely believed they were business geniuses, while treating the true architect of their wealth like a stray dog.
Looking at their smug, arrogant faces, Alyssa didn't feel a shred of sadness, only a cold, sharp irony.
They actually believed they had raised her.
She stepped close, whispered the master code to Walter's most secret offshore account, and watched the blood completely drain from his face.
"I raised you," she said, turning her back on the mansion without hesitation.
Walking into the storm, she pulled out a heavily encrypted phone and gave a single, cold order.
"Initiate a full hostile takeover of the Pollard Group."
It was time to end this little game and step into her true life—as the world's most elusive medical genius, and the long-lost billionaire heiress of the Summers dynasty.

9.1
He postponed putting my name on the deed 18 times.
Each time, his mentee Ciera had an “emergency.” Each time, he ran to her.
I watched him give her his prized Montblanc pen—the one he wouldn’t even let me borrow. I saw her post their late nights on Instagram. I ate anniversary dinners alone while he “mentored” her.
Then he bought me a necklace—identical to the one she just flaunted online.
That was when I stopped feeling anything.
I didn’t cry. I didn’t fight. I simply packed two suitcases, resigned from our firm, and booked a one-way ticket to London.
He thinks I’m coming back in a week.
He has no idea I’m gone for good.
Nineteen broken promises. One silent goodbye. And a new life waiting across the ocean.

8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.

8.3
On the night of my career-defining art exhibition, I stood completely alone. My husband, Dante Sovrano, the most feared man in Chicago, had promised he wouldn’t miss it for the world. Instead, he was on the evening news.
He was shielding another woman—his ruthless business partner—from a downpour, letting his own thousand-dollar suit get soaked just to protect her. The headline flashed below them, calling their new alliance a "power move" that would reshape the city.
The guests at my gallery immediately began to whisper. Their pitying looks turned my greatest triumph into a public spectacle of humiliation. Then his text arrived, a cold, final confirmation of my place in his life: “Something came up. Isabella needed me. You understand. Business.”
For four years, I had been his possession. A quiet, artistic wife kept in a gilded cage on the top floor of his skyscraper. I poured all my loneliness and heartbreak onto my canvases, but he never truly saw my art. He never truly saw me. He just saw another one of his assets.
My heart didn't break that night. It turned to ice. He hadn't just neglected me; he had erased me.
So the next morning, I walked into his office and handed him a stack of gallery contracts.
He barely glanced up, annoyed at the interruption to his empire-building. He snatched the pen and signed on the line I’d marked.
He didn’t know the page tucked directly underneath was our divorce decree.
He had just signed away his wife like she was nothing more than an invoice for art supplies.

9.5
Frances survived a horrific car crash, only to return to a suffocating life. Her wealthy husband, Baron, and his domineering mother were now relentlessly pressuring her to adopt a "poor, distant relative" named Jagger as the heir to their billionaire empire.
But on her way to sign the adoption papers, a violent vision flashed in her mind. The crash wasn't an accident. She saw her car in flames, while Baron watched with cold, calculating eyes. Beside him stood an older Jagger, who calmly muttered the chilling truth.
"The problem is solved."
A private investigator soon confirmed her worst nightmares. Jagger wasn't a charity case; he was Baron's illegitimate son. The family had been illegally funneling offshore money to fund his elite lifestyle. Worse, Baron's ultimate plan was to label Frances mentally unstable, lock her away in a Swiss sanatorium for life, and bring in Jagger's biological mother to take her place.
For years, Frances had played the perfect, obedient wife in their corporate marriage contract. How could they be so ruthlessly evil, plotting her agonizing death just to legitimize their dirty bloodline and steal her trust fund?
But she was no longer the fragile puppet they thought she was. At the high-stakes board meeting, with all eyes expecting her to submit, she put the expensive pen down.
"I refuse."
Instead of adopting their bastard son, she slammed down an SEC whistleblower threat, forced a new will, and introduced her own handpicked heir. The war had just begun.

9.0
I died on the cold delivery table, bleeding out while the heart monitor flatlined.
Through the blinding surgical lights, I heard my husband Damon's cold, final order to the doctors.
"The child is the priority."
He didn't care about my life. To him, I was just a vessel to produce an heir, a tool to fulfill his prenuptial clause and secure his billionaire empire.
While I took my last agonizing breath, he was already planning his future with his fragile, theatrical mistress, Jasmin.
In my past life, when he first brought her into our home claiming she was a helpless victim, I shattered.
I screamed, threw vases, and played the hysterical wife perfectly.
My desperate pleas for his affection only gave him the exact weapons he needed to ruin my reputation, isolate me, and ultimately force me onto that fatal delivery bed.
Until my very last moment, the suffocating pain in my chest wasn't just physical.
I couldn't understand how the man I loved could treat my death like a simple business transaction.
Why was my absolute devotion rewarded with a carefully calculated execution?
But then, my eyes snapped open.
I was sitting on the edge of my king-sized bed, exactly three years before my death.
From downstairs, I heard Damon's voice echoing in the foyer, bringing Jasmin into our home for the very first time.
This time, the scream building in my chest turned to ice.
I didn't cry or throw a fit.
Instead, I calmly swallowed a secret birth control pill, smiled at his mistress, and dialed the most ruthless divorce lawyer in Manhattan.







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