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From Rejected Luna to Princess Novel Cover

From Rejected Luna to Princess

The three-hour drive from the Northern Alliance meeting should have felt like coming home. Instead, as I pulled through the gates of Silverstone Pack territory, an unsettling quiet pressed against my chest like a physical weight. The familiar sight of our pack house—its stone facade and wraparound porch that had always welcomed me—now felt cold, almost hostile. I parked near the front steps, expecting to see pack members going about their evening routines. Children should have been playing in the yard, adults chatting on porches, the usual warm buzz of pack life that made this place feel alive. Instead, the grounds were eerily empty. The few wolves I did encounter on my way to the house avoided my gaze entirely. Mrs. Henderson, who usually stopped to ask about Sophie's schoolwork, practically fled when she saw me approaching. Young Marcus, one of our patrol guards, actually crossed to the other side of the path rather than offer his customary respectful nod.
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Chapter 3

The morning after the pack meeting, I woke to the sound of Sophie's quiet sobs filtering through the thin walls. My body ached from the mate bond rejection, every breath feeling like broken glass in my lungs. But Sophie's pain cut deeper than my own physical agony.

I found her in the kitchen, kneeling on the cold tile floor with a bucket and scrub brush. Her small hands were red and raw from the harsh cleaning solution, and tears streaked down her dirt-smudged cheeks.

"What are you doing, baby?" I whispered, dropping to my knees beside her.

"Luna Melissa said I have to clean the floors before I can eat," Sophie hiccupped. "She said weak bloodlines need to learn their place through service."

Rage burned through me, momentarily overriding the bond pain. "You don't have to—"

"Oh, but she does." Melissa's voice rang out from the doorway, syrupy sweet and poisonous. She stood there in a silk robe that had once been mine, her hand resting on her growing belly like a crown. "Good morning, Sophie. I trust you're making progress on your chores?"

Sophie's shoulders hunched, and she scrubbed harder at a spot that was already clean. "Yes, Luna Melissa."

"That's a good girl." Melissa's smile was razor-sharp as she looked at me. "Children need structure, don't you think, Claire? Especially ones who might get... confused about their station in life."

I started to stand, my wolf snarling for blood, but Melissa's next words froze me in place.

"Of course, if there are any disruptions to Sophie's education, Stephen and I might decide she needs more intensive lessons. The basement cells are quite effective for teaching obedience."

The threat hung in the air like smoke. Sophie's scrubbing slowed, her young face pale with fear. I forced myself to remain calm, even as every instinct screamed at me to tear Melissa apart.

"I understand," I said through gritted teeth.

"Wonderful." Melissa clapped her hands together. "Sophie, when you finish the kitchen, I'll need you to clean my quarters. The Luna's suite requires special attention, and I want it spotless before the Northern Pack delegation arrives next week."

My former quarters. The rooms I'd decorated with such care, where I'd nursed Sophie as a baby, where I'd once believed I was building a future with my mate. Now Melissa was claiming them as her own, forcing my daughter to scrub away every trace of our life there.

The rest of the morning passed in a haze of humiliation and helpless rage. I watched Sophie carry heavy buckets up the stairs, her thin arms shaking with effort. When she stumbled and spilled water on the carpet, Melissa's sharp voice echoed through the house.

"Clumsy child! Clean that up immediately, and no lunch for you. Perhaps hunger will teach you to be more careful."

By afternoon, desperation drove me to my phone. I scrolled through my contacts, searching for allies among the pack leaders I'd worked with during my years as Luna. Alpha Morrison of the River Valley Pack had always been cordial. Alpha Chen from Mountain Ridge had praised my diplomatic skills just last month.

I dialed Morrison first, my hands shaking.

"Alpha Morrison? This is Claire Owens from Silverstone Pack. I need—"

"Claire." His voice was carefully neutral. "I heard about your... situation. Stephen explained everything when he called yesterday."

My heart sank. "What did he tell you?"

"That you've been struggling with some mental health issues. Paranoid delusions, threats against his pregnant mate. He's very concerned about your stability."

The words hit like physical blows. "That's not true. Alpha Morrison, you know me. You've worked with me for years—"

"I know what Stephen told me," he said firmly. "And frankly, Claire, this call isn't helping your case. You sound... unstable. I think it's best if you focus on getting the help you need."

The line went dead. I stared at the phone, my hands trembling.

Alpha Chen's response was even worse. "Claire, I'm disappointed in you," she said coldly. "Trying to manipulate other packs because you can't accept that your mate has moved on? Stephen warned us you might try something like this. Don't call here again."

One by one, every contact I tried gave me the same response. Stephen had gotten to them first, painting me as a delusional, dangerous female who couldn't accept her mate's rejection. My reputation, built over years of careful diplomacy and genuine relationships, had been destroyed in a single day.

That evening, two pack guards appeared at the front door. Ryan, Stephen's Beta, stood between them, his face grim with reluctance.

"I'm sorry, Claire," he said quietly. "Alpha's orders. You and Sophie are to remain in the pack house until further notice. For everyone's safety."

"House arrest," I whispered.

"Protective custody," Ryan corrected, but his eyes wouldn't meet mine. "Your meals will be brought to you. All phone and internet access has been suspended."

As the guards took their positions outside, I felt the walls of my prison settling around me. Through the window, I could see pack members going about their evening routines, their faces carefully blank when they glanced toward the house. Fear and uncertainty radiated from them in waves.

Upstairs, Sophie curled against me on her narrow bed, her stomach growling from Melissa's punishment. "Mama," she whispered, "why is Daddy doing this to us?"

I smoothed her hair, my heart breaking with every word. "I don't know, baby. But I promise I'll find a way to keep you safe."

Even as I spoke the words, I wondered if it was a promise I could keep.

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