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Get Back The Abandoned Luna Novel Cover

Get Back The Abandoned Luna

After three years of sacrifice, an Alpha realizes her husband used her as a ladder to power. While she suffers from a slow poison, Alexander flaunts his mistress and a secret heir before the pack she built for him. Refusing to be a victim, she walks away to execute a final, desperate plan. Her only hope lies in the man she once rejected: the world's most powerful Alpha, who has never forgotten her, in this tale of vengeance and survival.
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Chapter 2

Pregnancy

Scarlett's POV

"Faye, darling—remind everyone here. Didn't you tell Alexander he wasn't good enough for you? That you were leaving to find someone worthy of your time?"

The crowd stirred like disturbed water.

Heads turned toward Faye, who'd gone from pale to crimson in the span of a heartbeat.

"That was years ago," she stammered, her perfect composure cracking. "I came back to—to help—"

"Help with what, exactly?" I stepped closer, and this time Alexander's hand twitched as if he wanted to stop me but didn't dare. Not with all these witnesses.

"Because if by 'help' you mean climbing into bed with my husband, then I suppose I should thank you for making his betrayal so obvious."

Someone gasped. Another person cursed under their breath.

Faye's eyes brimmed with practiced tears. Real fear flickered behind them now as she realized the crowd was turning.

She turned to Alexander, her voice breaking beautifully.

"Alpha, I—I realize now it was a mistake to come. I should leave before I cause more trouble—"

She made it three steps before Alexander caught her arm.

Time seemed to slow. I watched his fingers wrap around her wrist, watched him pull her back against his chest, watched his arm slide protectively around her shoulders.

Every wolf in that ballroom saw it.

Every witness to our mate bond watched him choose her over me.

The mark on my neck—the one he'd given me three years ago during our mating ceremony—began to burn.

Not the pleasant warmth of a bond being honored, but the searing pain of betrayal made manifest.

"Scarlett." Alexander's voice was low, dangerous, vibrating with barely restrained Alpha command. "You know how important tonight is. I need everything to be perfect for the Council representatives."

His eyes bored into mine, and I saw the threat there, cold and clear.

"If you keep making a scene, it won't just be my reputation that suffers. Your perfume business, all those contracts you've been negotiating—they'll disappear overnight."

He wasn't wrong. Half my clients were in this room right now, watching this disaster unfold.

The Council representatives he'd invited were already whispering among themselves.

But I was done being managed. Done being threatened. Done being his puppet Luna who smiled and stayed silent while he destroyed everything we'd built.

"You're absolutely right, ALPHA," I said, loud enough for the nearest cluster of pack members to hear. My smile was sharp enough to draw blood.

"This celebration is far too important to ruin with messy emotions. So please—" I gestured toward Faye with exaggerated courtesy, "—take care of your ex. Just remember where your wife sleeps when you're done."

I held his gaze for one more second, letting him see everything he'd destroyed in me.

Then I turned on my heel before he could respond, before I could see whether he'd follow or stay with her.

We both knew which he'd choose.

The crowd parted for me like I was toxic.

Their silence was worse than any insult—heavy with judgment, thick with pity, loaded with the weight of witnesses who'd seen their Luna humiliated and done nothing to stop it.

I walked through them all with my head high and my spine straight, even as my heart shattered with every step.

Even as I felt Kara retreating deeper into my consciousness, whimpering like a wounded animal.

Behind me, I heard Alexander say something in a low voice. Heard Faye's tearful response. Heard the music resume—tentative at first, then growing bolder.

The celebration continued.

As if nothing had happened.

As if I hadn't just been erased in front of everyone who mattered.

***

I barely made it through the front door before my legs gave out.

My hands hit the marble floor first, then my knees. The impact sent shockwaves up my thighs, but the pain was nothing compared to the fire spreading from the mark on my neck.

"Luna!" A voice echoed from somewhere in the house, panicked and distant.

I couldn't answer. Couldn't do anything but crawl toward the nearest bathroom, my coat dragging behind me like a wounded animal's tail.

The bathroom tile was cold against my palms.

I barely got the toilet seat up before I vomited again—violent, wrenching heaves that brought up nothing but bile and champagne I didn't remember drinking.

The mark burned hotter.

Inside, Kara was howling. The sound echoed through my skull like a death knell.

"He's killing us," she whimpered. "Every time he touches her, it kills us a little more."

I knew. God, I knew.

Because this was the Moon Goddess's punishment.

When the Alpha who marked you takes another to his bed, your body bears the consequences.

Every thrust, every moan, every moment of his pleasure becomes your pain.

The bond doesn't lie.

It can't.

I had felt it before—those unexplained moments of nausea during pack meetings, the sudden weakness that hit me in the middle of training sessions, the burning sensation that woke me from sleep at 2 AM.

I had thought I was sick. Overworked. Stressed from managing both the pack and my business.

Now I understood.

Every time my body rebelled, it was because Alexander was with her.

In our bed. In our home.

While I bled myself dry trying to build his empire.

I sat there on the bathroom floor, my back against the tub, and stared at nothing.

I hated the Moon Goddess for this. Hated her with every fiber of my being.

She punished the faithful while the betrayers walked free. She bound women to men who destroyed them and called it divine will.

She watched her daughters suffer and did nothing.

Nothing.

***

I spent the night in the bathroom. And Alexander didn't come home.

Till 8 AM, I heard the front door open.

Alexander's footsteps in the hallway—heavy, purposeful, heading straight for my office.

I set down my coffee cup carefully and turned to face the door.

He walked in without knocking, still wearing last night's suit. His hair was mussed, his tie undone. He smelled like Faye's jasmine perfume and sex.

The mark on my neck twinged.

We stared at each other across ten feet of expensive carpet.

Then he opened his mouth and detonated my entire world with a simple sentence:

"Faye is pregnant."

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