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His Mistress Wore My Luna Crown Novel Cover

His Mistress Wore My Luna Crown

The coffee in my mug had gone cold hours ago, much like the bed I’d woken up in. Seven years. That’s how long I had been the Luna of the Silverclaw Pack. Seven years of sleeping in the guest suite while my mate, Alpha Jax Marshall, slept down the hall behind a locked door. To the pack, I was the “Iron Luna”—stoic, unshakeable, and frigid. They whispered that I was too cold to carry a pup, that my womb was as barren as my expression. They didn’t know the truth. They didn’t know that the only thing colder than my demeanor was the secret I kept to protect their Alpha’s fragile ego. “Luna Camille,” Beta Eugene’s voice grated on my nerves, pulling me back to the present. We were in the conference room, the morning sun highlighting the dust motes dancing over the heavy oak table.
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Chapter 3

The limousine was silent, a luxurious coffin speeding down the wet highway. Outside, the rain blurred the world into streaks of gray, but inside, the air was thick enough to choke on. I sat pressed against the cold window, trying to ignore the way Ezra toyed with the five-million-dollar Moonstone necklace draped over her throat. My throat.

Jax sat between us, but his body was angled entirely toward her. His hand rested protectively on her stomach, his thumb tracing circles over the silk of her dress.

“Are you warm enough?” he murmured, his voice softer than I had heard it in years.

“I’m fine, Alpha,” Ezra cooed, shooting a glance at me. “Though the heater seems a bit… weak.”

I gritted my teeth. “The climate control is set to seventy-two, Ezra. Perhaps it’s the weight of the jewelry dragging you down.”

Jax’s head snapped toward me, a growl rumbling in his chest, but before he could speak, the driver shouted.

“Rogue!”

A massive, mangy wolf leaped from the embankment, landing directly in our headlights. The driver swerved hard to the left. The tires screeched, losing traction on the slick asphalt.

The world flipped.

Metal screamed against pavement. Glass shattered in an explosion of diamonds. My body was thrown like a ragdoll, slamming against the roof, then the door, then the roof again as the car rolled down the steep embankment.

When we finally came to a halt, the silence was more terrifying than the noise.

I was upside down. The seatbelt cut into my chest, and warm, sticky blood trickled into my eye from a gash on my forehead. My ribs screamed in protest with every shallow breath. I tried to move, but my legs were pinned beneath the crushed metal of the front seat.

“Jax?” I croaked, the taste of copper filling my mouth. “Jax, are you okay?”

I heard a grunt, then the sound of metal tearing. Jax, his Alpha strength surging despite the crash, kicked his door open. He crawled out, stumbling into the muddy grass.

“Jax! I’m trapped!” I screamed, panic rising as I smelled the acrid scent of leaking fuel. Smoke began to curl through the vents. “Jax, help me!”

He looked through the shattered window. Our eyes met. For a second, I thought he was reaching for me.

Then, a whimper came from the other side of the car.

“My baby… Jax, the baby…” Ezra sobbed.

Without a word, Jax turned his back on me. He scrambled over the chassis to the other side. I watched, paralyzed with horror, as he ripped the rear door off its hinges with a roar of effort. He reached in, unbuckling Ezra with frantic, trembling hands. She didn’t look hurt—scared, yes, but whole.

“I’ve got you,” he panted, pulling her into his arms. “I’ve got you, Ezra.”

“Jax!” I screamed again, the smoke thickening, stinging my eyes. “The fuel tank! Jax, please!”

He didn’t look back. He sprinted away from the wreckage, shielding Ezra’s body with his own, leaving me pinned in the dark.

A spark ignited.

Orange flames licked up the side of the car. I squeezed my eyes shut, bracing for the fire to consume me, realizing with absolute clarity that my mate had left me to burn.

*Hiss.*

White foam exploded from the ceiling vents. The emergency fire suppression system kicked in, coating me in freezing chemical slush. It choked the flames just inches from my face, leaving me shivering, broken, and utterly alone in the wreckage.

***

The hospital room was blindingly white. The steady beep of the monitor was the only thing grounding me to reality. My chest was wrapped tightly in bandages, and my skin felt raw and tender from the chemical burns.

The door banged open.

My heart leaped, thinking it was a doctor, but it was Jax. He looked wild, his hair disheveled, soot still smearing his cheek. He marched to the side of my bed, not asking how I was, not looking at the burns on my arms.

“You need to get up,” he demanded.

I stared at him, disbelief numbing the physical pain. “I have three broken ribs, Jax. I have chemical burns because you left me in a burning car.”

“Ezra is in distress,” he snapped, his eyes flashing with Wolf gold. “The crash… the stress… the doctor says there’s a risk to the heir. She’s cramping.”

“That’s unfortunate,” I rasped, my voice cold. “But I am not a doctor.”

“No, but you are a battery,” he growled.

He grabbed my wrist. A jolt of pain shot up my arm, but he didn’t let go.

“I know what you can do, Camille. I’ve seen you do it with the wounded sentries, even if you try to hide it. You have a reserve of vitality. A strange… healing hum.”

I tried to pull away. It was true—I had a dormant ability, a warmth in my blood that could soothe minor wounds, though I didn’t understand where it came from. But using it drained me, left me exhausted for days. In my current state, it could kill me.

“I can’t,” I whispered. “Jax, look at me. I’m barely holding on. If I give her energy now, my heart—”

“I don’t care about your heart!” he roared, the sound vibrating through my bones. “I care about my son! You failed to give me one, so you will save the one she carries!”

The air in the room grew heavy, crushing. The Alpha aura descended like a lead blanket.

“I command you,” he boomed, his voice layering with the supernatural weight of the Alpha Tone. “**Heal her.**”

My wolf whined in submission, betraying me. My body moved without my permission. I tried to scream, to fight the order, but my limbs felt like they belonged to a puppet master.

Jax dragged me out of the bed. I stumbled, gasping as my broken ribs ground together. He marched me down the hall, my bare feet slapping against the cold tile, trailing IV lines that ripped from my skin.

We entered Ezra’s suite. She was lying on a plush bed, scrolling on her phone, looking perfectly fine. When we entered, she quickly dropped the phone and clutched her stomach, putting on a face of agony.

“Jax, it hurts,” she whimpered.

Jax shoved me toward her. “Do it, Camille. Now.”

My hands shook as I hovered them over her stomach. I could feel the command squeezing my throat, forcing me to push. I reached deep inside, finding that small, flickering flame of life that kept me going.

And I gave it away.

I felt the energy leave me in a rush, a golden warmth flowing from my palms into Ezra. Her skin flushed with health, her eyes brightening, while I felt coldness seep into my marrow. My vision blurred. The edges of the room went black.

Ezra sighed in contentment, the *supposed* cramps vanishing instantly.

My knees hit the floor. The last thing I heard before the darkness swallowed me whole was Jax’s voice, soft and tender.

“Is the baby safe, my love?”

He didn’t even hear the sound of my body hitting the linoleum.

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