From Submissive Zeta to Ruthless Luna

Elara Thornfield

"Where is the report for the Moonstone Summit, Elara?" Willow Ashbourne asked without looking away from the mirror as she attached her false eyelashes. "You disappeared after dragging Alpha Ronan to his quarters last night. You did not answer my mind-link or my phone calls."

My heart slammed against my ribs, my wolf whimpering in the back of my mind from the lingering scent of smoke, heat, and raw Alpha power still coating my skin. I smoothed down my black suit jacket, praying my short, four-foot-five frame did not betray the violent tremble in my thighs. Being a Zeta—the absolute bottom of the pack hierarchy—meant I had no strength to fight off suspicions if she caught on.

"I came back late," I lied, my voice tight and small. "You were asleep, so I did not want to disturb your rest. I went back to Alpha Ronan's den early this morning because he demanded pack business papers."

Willow gave a lazy hum, completely unbothered. "Typical. The Alpha keeps you on a short leash."

I rushed into the bathroom, slamming the door and leaning against the cold tile. I pulled down the collar of my shirt, staring in horror at the dark, bruised bite marks on my neck and the raw friction burns on my hips. I was a Zeta, a nobody, and last night I had pinned Alpha Ronan Blackridge—the most feared, powerful Alpha of the Blackridge Alpha Dominion—to his bed by his leather strap, desperate and burning in heat.

My phone vibrated violently against my palm, making me jump.

Meet me in the break room now.

The message was brief, heavy with an explosive dark aura that made my wolf cower. I swallowed hard, washing my face in icy water before walking out toward the Moonstone Summit Lodge break room. My feet felt heavy, my four-foot-five body shaking inside my fitted clothes.

When I pushed the heavy oak door open, Alpha Ronan was standing by the window. His broad, five-foot-eight muscular frame blocked the morning light, his dark complexion sharp against the dark suit he wore. A half-lit cigarette sat loosely between his fingers, a trail of grey smoke curling up into the air. His lethal black eyes locked onto mine the second I stepped inside.

"Alpha Ronan," I whispered, keeping my head bowed in total submission as a Zeta. "How may I serve the Alpha Command?"

He did not speak. He took a slow drag of his cigarette, blow torching the tip red, before tossing a heavy silver angel pendant onto the glass table between us.

The metal clink sounded like a death sentence.

My blood ran completely cold. My hand instinctively flew to my bare collarbone. It was my mother's pendant—the only sacred relic from the crushed Thornfield Pack. I had dropped it in his sheets while his massive hands were digging into my waist, his heavy cock stretching me open on that blood-red velvet mattress.

"Find the owner of this pendant within twenty-four hours," Ronan growled, his deep, resonant Alpha voice vibrating right through the floorboards and rattling my spine.

I blinked, my jaw trembling as I stared at the silver angel. "Find... find the owner, Alpha?"

He held the cigarette between his lips, his dark eyes narrowing into dangerous slits as smoke drifted past his face. "Did I stutter, Zeta?"

He did not know. The powerful Alpha of the Blackridge Bloodline had no idea the female who took his virginity and rode him until dawn was his low-ranking Zeta assistant standing right in front of him.

"I... I can do it," I choked out, stepping forward with trembling hands to snatch the pendant off the table before he could spot the initials carved on the back. "I will handle it immediately, Alpha Ronan."

I turned on my heel, desperate to run before my heat scent betrayed me in the small room.

"Wait," Ronan's voice sliced through the silence, heavy and laced with absolute authority.

I froze at the threshold, my breath hitching in my chest. "Yes, Alpha?"

"When you track down the female who dared lay her hands on me," he drawled, taking the cigarette from his mouth and flicking the ash onto the table, "do not bring her to me. Bring her directly to Beta Kieran Stormfang."

My stomach dropped into a bottomless pit. Beta Kieran handled the Blackridge Pack's rogue executions and territorial banishments.

"Beta Kieran?" I whispered, my voice breaking.

"She touched what belongs to the Alpha Dominion without permission," Ronan said softly, his voice dripping with lethal promises. "She will be stripped of her pack status, broken, and tossed into the rogue wasteland outside Moonhaven Ridge to bleed out."