
Betrayed Luna Finds True Love
Chapter 3
The morning air bit at my skin as I led the Luna's run, a daily ritual I normally found centering. Today, though, my body felt like it was betraying me—much like my mate had. The pack females followed behind me in formation, their rhythmic footfalls usually a comfort. But nothing felt right anymore.
We rounded the eastern boundary of our territory, the scent of pine and damp earth filling my lungs. Suddenly, the world tilted. Colors blurred together as a wave of dizziness crashed over me. I stumbled, my legs buckling beneath me.
"Luna!" The concerned voices sounded distant, underwater.
I was falling, the ground rushing up to meet me, when strong arms caught me. Through my haze, I recognized Liam Carter, our Second Beta. His usually stoic face was creased with worry as he lifted me against his chest.
"I've got you, Luna," he murmured, low enough that only I could hear. "Just breathe."
Lily whimpered inside me, curling protectively around the secret we carried. Our pup—Ryan's pup—who he would never celebrate the way he celebrated Olivia's.
I noticed the pack members had created a wide berth around us, their expressions ranging from concern to something uglier. Judgment. Speculation. Liam carried me back toward the pack house, his gait steady and careful.
"I'm fine," I protested weakly. "Just got lightheaded."
Liam's eyes met mine briefly, and I saw something there that made my stomach clench—pity, mixed with knowledge he shouldn't have. "It happens," was all he said, but his tone carried volumes.
He knew. Perhaps they all did.
As we approached the pack house, I insisted on walking the final stretch myself. "Please, Liam. I can't appear weak."
Reluctantly, he set me down, his hand lingering supportively at my elbow. "The Alpha—" he began, then stopped himself. "Should I call Ryan?"
"No," I said too quickly. "He's busy with... pack matters."
Liam's jaw tightened, but he nodded respectfully. "As you wish, Luna."
I made it inside on my own power, but the whispers followed me. Near the kitchen, a cluster of lower-ranking pack members huddled, their conversation halting abruptly as I passed. I pretended not to notice, but Lily's heightened senses caught their words anyway.
"Did you see her fall? Pathetic."
"Can't even lead a simple run."
A shrill voice rose above the others, deliberately loud enough for me to hear: "Wolfless Luna can't even lead a run! No wonder the Alpha looks elsewhere."
Cruel laughter followed me down the hallway as heat flooded my cheeks. Three years as Luna, and this was what I'd earned—mockery and disrespect. Because they all knew what I'd been too blind to see.
My mate had chosen another, and the pack was fracturing along the fault line of his divided loyalty.
I retreated to our bedroom—no, my bedroom. Ryan hadn't slept here in days. Sinking onto the edge of the bed, I pressed my palms against my still-flat abdomen.
"We'll be okay," I whispered to my pup, to Lily, to myself. None of us believed it.
* * *
The next day was Ryan's birthday. Despite everything, some foolish part of me still hoped I could reach him, remind him of what we'd once shared. I'd baked his favorite chocolate cake with raspberry filling, decorated with silver icing—pack colors.
I carried it carefully up the stairs to his office, my heart pounding with each step. The cake felt heavy in my hands, the weight of my desperate hope made physical.
As I approached his office door, I heard voices—Ryan, Mark, and our Gamma, Jason. The door was cracked open, their conversation spilling into the hallway.
"The eastern pack is getting aggressive about those hunting grounds," Mark was saying.
"Let them try," Ryan replied dismissively. "But that's not the real issue. I need you both to handle things for a few hours tonight. I promised Olivia I'd take her to dinner."
"On your birthday?" Jason asked, surprise evident in his tone. "Won't Luna Madison—"
"Madison doesn't understand me like Olivia does," Ryan cut in, his voice softening on her name in a way it never did with mine. "Olivia gets what I need in life."
A short, dismissive laugh followed. "Madison will be fine. She always is."
I stood frozen outside the door, the cake trembling in my hands. Each word sliced through me, surgical in its precision, excising whatever hope I'd foolishly nurtured.
Lily collapsed within me, her anguish mirroring my own. Our mate bond, already stretched thin, seemed to unravel further with each heartbeat.
Slowly, silently, I backed away from the door, clutching the cake that now felt like a monument to my delusion. The frosting had smudged where my tears had fallen, silver rivulets running down the sides like the last remnants of a dream dissolving in the harsh light of morning.
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