Betrayed By The Alpha: The Spirit Luna Returns

I hovered in the corner of the damp Runt Quarters, powerless as a ghost, watching my five-year-old daughter take her last breath.

She died of a fever that a simple medicine could have cured.

But my husband, Alpha Elroy, refused to pay for it. He was too busy dining with his mistress to waste resources on a "runt."

When he finally arrived, there were no tears.

He picked up my daughter’s small body like a bag of trash and tossed her into the incineration pit meant for criminals.

"Stop hiding, Annis!" he roared at the empty woods, thinking I was alive and watching. "Your trick didn't work. The runt is dead."

I screamed at him, clawing at his suit, but my hands passed right through him.

Days later, his mistress gave birth to a son. But the baby was born with a fractured soul, dying.

The doctor said only a bone marrow graft from the White Wolf bloodline could save him.

Elroy didn't hesitate. He looked toward the incineration pit.

"Retrieve the girl's body," he commanded his warriors. "Her bones will save the future Alpha."

He intended to butcher our daughter's corpse to save his illegitimate child.

Enraged, he hunted down the Rogue who had secretly stolen Emma's body before it could burn.

"Give me the body!" Elroy demanded. "And tell Annis to stop spoofing her credit cards in Europe and show her face!"

The Rogue looked at him with cold pity and threw a coroner's report at his chest.

"Annis isn't in Europe, Elroy."

"She has been rotting in a shallow grave for six months. Your mistress paid for the bullet."

Chapter 1

Annis POV:

Being dead was not peaceful. It was cold. It was a constant, gnawing ache that felt like winter had settled deep inside my bones, or what was left of them. But the cold was nothing compared to the agony of watching my daughter die.

I hovered in the corner of the Runt Quarters. This was the place where the Pack threw the weak, the sick, and the unwanted. The air here smelled of mildew and despair.

"Mommy..."

The whimper was so faint it barely disturbed the stale air. Emma lay on a cot that was too small even for her five-year-old body. Her skin was burning. I could see the fever flushing her pale cheeks. It was the Pre-shift fever. For a normal pup, this was a celebration. It meant their wolf was waking up. But for Emma, whose wolf was buried deep under my recessive genes, it was a death sentence without the medicine.

I screamed. I lunged forward, trying to grab her hand, trying to smooth the damp hair back from her forehead.

The overhead bulb flickered violently, buzzing like an angry hornet, but my hand passed right through her.

I was nothing. Just a collection of memories and regrets, tethered to this cursed land by a Moon Goddess who clearly hated me.

The door creaked open. It was Old Martha, the caretaker. She looked at Emma, and her face crumpled. She tapped her temple, her eyes glazing over. She was initiating a Mind-Link.

In a wolf pack, the Mind-Link is a telepathic web that connects us all. It allows instant communication. But since I was dead, I could only hear the echoes of the Alpha's voice because my soul was still stupidly, tragically bound to his.

Alpha Elroy, Martha projected. The pup... Emma. She is convulsing. The fever is too high. We need the Moonflower extract. Please.

The silence that followed was heavy. Then, I heard him. His voice was a deep baritone that used to make my heart flutter before he crushed it. Now, it just sounded like judgment.

I am at dinner, Martha. Elroy's voice echoed in the room, cold and detached. Do not disturb me with trivialities.

Sir, she will die tonight without it, Martha pleaded. She is your-

She is a runt, Elroy cut her off. The link crackled with his irritation. She has no wolf. She is barely human. The Moonflower extract costs a fortune. I will not waste Pack resources on a failed bloodline. Let nature take its course. Besides, her mother drains enough of my accounts from wherever she's hiding in Europe. Let Annis pay for it.

The link snapped shut.

"No!" I shrieked, clawing at the air. "Elroy, you monster! I'm not in Europe! I'm dead! She is your daughter! She has the White Wolf blood! You just can't smell it!"

The temperature in the room plummeted ten degrees, frost creeping up the window pane, but no one heard me.

Hours passed. The fever spiked. Emma's little body arched in pain. She called for me one last time, her voice a broken whisper. Then, she went still. The tiny, frantic beat of her heart stopped.

I fell to my knees, ghostly tears that wouldn't fall burning my eyes. My daughter was gone.

It was a week later when Elroy finally came.

He pulled up in his sleek black SUV. He wore a suit that cost more than this entire building. He didn't look sad. He looked annoyed. He held a box of expensive chocolates in one hand-a mocking gift, as if candy could fix death.

He walked into the room where Martha had laid Emma out. He didn't even take off his sunglasses.

"Where is she?" Elroy demanded. His voice carried the weight of the Alpha Command-a power that forces lower-ranking wolves to obey. Martha trembled, her knees buckling.

"She is there, Alpha," Martha whispered, pointing to the small bundle covered by a rough white sheet.

Elroy sneered. "Stop the theatrics. I know Annis is hiding somewhere. She's been spoofing her location for months to avoid me. She's using the kid to get money out of me. It's pathetic."

"She is dead, Alpha," Martha sobbed. "Annis hasn't been seen since the Winter Solstice. That was six months ago."

Elroy stepped forward and ripped the sheet away.

He stared at Emma's corpse. She looked so small. So fragile. There was no grief in his eyes, only disgust.

"A shell," he muttered. "No wolf spirit. Just a weak human shell."

Then, he did something that made my spirit roar with a rage so potent I thought I might materialize.

He reached down and picked up my daughter's body by the back of her shirt, like she was a piece of dirty laundry. He turned and walked out the back door, toward the incineration pit where the Pack disposed of Rogue wolves-trespassers and criminals.

"Elroy, don't you dare!" I screamed, chasing after him. I grabbed at his arm, but my fingers turned to mist against his suit jacket.

He stood at the edge of the pit. The fires were low, but the smell of ash was strong. Stray, feral dogs were already circling the perimeter, drawn by the scent of death.

He tossed her.

He didn't gently place her down. He tossed my baby girl onto the cold concrete slab next to the pit, like she was garbage.

"Annis!" Elroy roared.

He released his Alpha Pheromones. It was a crushing wave of dominance, smelling of ozone and storm clouds. The feral dogs whimpered and flattened themselves against the ground.

"I know you are watching!" he shouted at the empty woods. "Stop hiding! Your little trick didn't work. The runt is dead."

I stood in front of him, screaming into his face. "I am here! I am right here! I'm dead, you blind fool! And you just threw away the only good thing you ever created!"

He looked right through me. His eyes were cold, hard obsidian.

"If you don't show your face by the next full moon," Elroy threatened the silence, "I will feed this carcass to the Rogues myself."

He turned on his heel and marched back to his car.

And because the Mate Bond-the mystical tie that binds souls together-was still twisted and active, I was yanked forward. An invisible chain wrapped around my chest, dragging me behind the man who had just discarded our child.