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Betrayed By My Alpha: The Ghost Luna's Revenge Novel Cover

Betrayed By My Alpha: The Ghost Luna's Revenge

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.
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Chapter 3

Debra's POV:

Two days passed in a blur of suffocating silence. I was a prisoner in my own home, the four walls of my room closing in on me. Vicky brought my meals, her face etched with worry, but we barely spoke. There was nothing to say. The truth of my situation was a heavy, unspoken weight between us.

On the third morning, there was a light knock on my door before it swung open. It wasn't Vicky.

It was Marley.

She glided in as if she owned the place, which, I supposed, she now did. She was dressed in a simple but elegant silk robe, her blonde hair falling in perfect waves over her shoulders. She looked rested, happy, and radiant. She looked like everything I wasn't.

"Good morning, stepdaughter," she said, her voice bright and cheerful. "I thought I'd come and see how you were settling in."

I remained silent, sitting on the edge of my bed and staring out the window.

"Still pouting?" she sighed dramatically, wandering around my room, her fingers trailing over my belongings. "You know, your father is very disappointed in you. He had such high hopes for us to be a real family."

Her words were laced with poison. Ivy growled low in my mind. *Lying bitch.*

Marley stopped in front of my mother's old vanity. "This whole wing is so… dated," she mused, picking up a silver-backed brush that had belonged to my mother. "Your mother's taste was rather plain, wasn't it? I'm thinking of redecorating. Something more modern. More… me."

My hands clenched into fists at my sides. "Get out," I said, my voice barely a whisper.

She turned to face me, a slow, malicious smile spreading across her lips. "Oh, I will. But I wanted to give you something to think about while you're cooped up in here."

She walked closer, her porcelain doll face turning ugly with her sneer. "Your father and I were talking last night. We agree that it's time you were mated. A girl your age, with your… temperament, needs a firm hand."

A cold dread washed over me.

"Perhaps to someone… older," she continued, her eyes gleaming. "More established. Alpha Gareth of the Stone Creek Pack, for example. He's a widower, looking for a new Luna to bear him some heirs. He's a bit rough around the edges, of course, but he would certainly teach a rebellious she-wolf some manners."

Alpha Gareth was sixty years old, notorious for his cruelty and for the mysterious deaths of his first two wives.

My blood ran cold. This wasn't just about humiliation anymore. This was a threat. She wanted to get rid of me, permanently.

"You wouldn't," I breathed, my voice trembling. "My father would never—"

"Your father," she interrupted, "wants peace. He wants a happy wife. And right now, you are the biggest obstacle to my happiness. Do you understand?"

*Let me out, Debra!* Ivy shrieked in my mind. *Let me tear that smug look off her face!*

But I was frozen, trapped by her words and the terrifying realization of my powerlessness.

She smiled, satisfied with my horrified reaction. "I'm so glad we had this little chat. You think about it."

With a final, triumphant glance, she turned and swept out of the room, leaving the door ajar. I was left shaking, the world tilting on its axis. She wasn't just trying to replace my mother. She was trying to destroy me.

Later that evening, Vicky snuck in with my dinner tray. She closed the door quietly behind her and rushed to my side.

"I heard her," Vicky whispered, her eyes wide with fear. "I heard her talking to her servant about Alpha Gareth. Debra, this is serious."

"I know," I choked out.

"We have to do something," she said, her voice urgent. She looked around nervously before leaning in closer.

"There might be… one small bit of good news," she said, her voice barely audible. "One of the kitchen staff who served the Alphas the other night… she said Alpha Ezekiel of the Black Moon Pack asked about you. He asked your name."

The memory of him—the storm-gray eyes, the scent of pine, the steadying grip of his hands—flashed in my mind. It was a tiny, flickering spark in an overwhelming darkness. But right now, it was all I had.

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