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Claimed by the Blood Moon Alpha as His Fated Luna Novel Cover

Claimed by the Blood Moon Alpha as His Fated Luna

For six years, I sacrificed everything for Liam, my Alpha mate, believing his wolf was crippled. On the eve of his ascension, I discovered the truth: his wolf was never broken—he simply refused to fight. Worse, he planned to spend our mating night with a stray Omega. Desperate to prove myself, I hunted the sacred Shadow Beast alone. Liam followed—not to help, but to steal my kill. He put a silver arrow through my thigh and left me bleeding in a ravine. When I dragged myself home a day later, the Pack was already celebrating him as a hero. No one had mourned me. Then the terrifying Alpha of the Blood Moon Pack kicked down our doors and declared me his true fated mate. This time, I did not look back.
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Chapter 2

Seraphina POV:

The single word hung in the dusty air of the Elder's study like a drawn blade.

Before Liam could respond, the sharp screech of a night owl echoed through the open window.

The bird landed on the windowsill, dropping a parchment scroll sealed with black wax. It was a message from the neighboring territory.

Liam snatched the scroll, scanning it quickly. His eyes darted toward me, calculating and sly.

"The eastern borders are restless," Liam announced, his voice suddenly loud enough for the gathering crowd in the hallway to hear. "Rogues have been spotted massing near the ravine."

He leaned heavily on his cane, his gaze fixing upon me with an assumption of ownership so profound it was a physical weight.

"The Pack needs stability, Seraphina. You must wait until after the hunt to complete our Marking ceremony. It is your duty."

The Marking was the final step of mating-the soul-binding bite that claimed a wolf forever.

I stood tall, squaring my shoulders.

"There will be no Marking," I said, my voice ringing with the clarity of struck steel. "This bond, this hollowed-out charade, is finished."

Gasps rippled through the gathered Warriors and Betas.

Liam's face flushed with anger. The pitiful mask fell away for a second, and his jaw clenched hard enough to crack stone.

"How dare you?" he hissed. "You lack the basic devotion of a Pack member. You are selfish, Seraphina. You only care about your own glory."

Just then, the crowd parted.

Elara walked into the room.

She was already wearing the Luna coronation gown I had bled to sew. The silk clung to her delicate curves, but she had ruined it by tearing the hem to make herself look fragile.

The moment she stepped in, the air filled with her Omega scent.

It was a cloying sweetness, like peaches left to fester in sugar, a biological trick designed to trigger the protective instincts of stronger wolves.

Tears welled up in her large, doe-like eyes. She began her performance.

"Please, don't fight because of me," Elara sobbed, her voice trembling like a frightened rabbit.

She reached up, pretending to unbutton the dress.

"I will give the dress back to Seraphina. I will leave the territory tonight. I will become a Rogue and die in the forest, just so you two can be happy."

The Warriors in the room growled in distress, their minds clouded by her manipulative pheromones.

Liam rushed forward, dropping his cane completely. He grabbed Elara's hands, stopping her from taking off the dress.

"You will do no such thing!" Liam roared.

He turned to glare at me, his chest expanding as he drew in a deep breath.

"Submit!"

It was the Alpha's Command.

The vocal domination carried a supernatural weight, a pressure wave of sound designed to force lesser wolves to their knees.

The command struck me, a physical force attempting to buckle my shoulders and crush my will. But my Inner Wolf-the hidden, dormant White Wolf-snarled in the back of my mind. I planted my boots on the stone floor and stood perfectly straight, the pressure washing over me like water against a cliff.

Liam looked shocked that his Command had failed.

I stared at him, remembering a hunting trip three years ago.

Elara had deliberately wandered into a patch of Wolfsbane.

Wolfsbane is a deadly purple flower. Even touching its pollen can paralyze a werewolf's nervous system and stop their heart.

When a venomous swamp snake had bitten my leg during the chaos, Liam had looked right at me, bleeding and gasping for air.

Then he had turned his back on me to carry Elara, who only had a tiny scratch from a tree branch.

When we returned, Silas had taken the only Moon-grass-the rare antidote for Wolfsbane-and given it to Elara to soothe her "shock."

I had been locked in my room, forced to use a silver hunting knife to scrape the poisoned flesh and bone out of my own leg without any medicine.

"You should be ashamed, Seraphina!" Freya shouted, stepping out from the crowd.

"If you keep bullying this poor Omega, we will have the Elder strip your Warrior rank and throw you down to the Omega caste—the lowest station in this Pack, where you'll scrub floors and take orders from the wolves you once led!" a Warrior threatened, stepping protectively in front of Elara.

I looked at my own sister, and then at the Warriors I had trained. They were all standing against me, a solid wall of betrayal.

Silas stomped forward, his face purple with rage.

He raised his hand and slapped me hard across the face.

The sharp crack echoed in the silent room. The metallic taste of blood filled my mouth.

"You ungrateful wretch!" Silas spat, his eyes wide with a frantic need to reassert control over his most valuable asset. "You think your combat skills make you untouchable? You will never be as gentle and obedient as Elara! You will learn your place!"

I slowly turned my head back, wiping the blood from my lip with the back of my hand.

Elara peeked out from behind Liam's broad shoulder.

As she lifted her hand to wipe away her fake tears, she deliberately shifted the collar of her dress.

Resting against her collarbone was a silver Mate-pendant.

It was a sacred amulet. And carved deeply into the metal were two names: Liam & Elara.

She smirked at me, a vicious, victorious little smile that only I could see.

The last thread of my attachment to this Pack snapped.

I turned around and walked out of the tower, my boots hitting the cobblestones with heavy, rhythmic thuds.

I walked straight to the stables and threw the heavy leather saddle onto my massive roan warhorse.

The crowd had followed me out, watching in confused silence.

I swung myself up into the saddle, looking down at Liam and Silas.

"I don't need you, Liam," I declared, my voice echoing off the stone walls of the Pack House.

"I am going into the dark forest tonight. I will hunt the Shadow Beast myself. And I will prove that my honor as a Warrior does not depend on a coward."

I kicked my spurs into the horse's flanks.

The beast reared up with a powerful neigh, and we tore off into the consuming darkness of the forest. I did not look back. If I had, I might have seen the shadow of a much darker betrayal already riding after me.

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