I AM THE LUNA QUEEN
went to sleep a nobody. I woke up a Queen.
One night I was just a broke, exhausted college girl. The next, I opened my eyes in silk sheets, with strangers bowing and calling me Luna Queen. The face in the mirror is mine. The body is mine. But the life isn't. The bruises on my wrists tell a story I don't remember, and the King I'm bound to doesn't love me-he loathes me.
They whisper that his mistress rules the palace. They say the Queen was weak. Silent. Broken. But that was before me.
Now I must survive a palace that wants me dead, a King whose touch burns as much as it scars, and a kingdom waiting for me to fail. The old Luna Queen bowed to cruelty.
I am not her.
And if this King thinks I'll kneel, he's about to learn what a true Queen is made of.
Chapters
Share
Chapter 3
Hazel's pov
As if waking up in a strange room with a life that isn't mine wasn't enough-now I have to have sex with a man I don't even know.
A man who apparently hates his queen.
What could possibly be worse than this?
I bit my finger hard enough to hurt, trying to stop the panic crawling up my throat. My hands ran through my hair, again and again, like I could somehow brush the madness away. I sat down, stood up, sat again-but nothing worked. Nothing was calming me down. How could I even be calm in this situation?
The women were gone. It was just me now-me and my raging thoughts bouncing off the walls.
I'd told myself a thousand times this had to be a dream, but the more I said it, the realer it became. The feel of the silk against my skin, the cold air, the smell of flowers that weren't from anywhere near my college dorm-it all screamed real.
Finally, I sat back on the bed and buried my face in my hands. My eyes burned, but I didn't let the tears fall. What was the point of crying? It wouldn't wake me up. It wouldn't fix whatever this was.
No, I needed to think. I needed to figure out what the hell was going on.
I angrily wiped my eyes, took a deep breath, and stood up. Enough sitting around. Enough panicking.
I marched toward the massive double doors and shoved them open. The sound echoed through the wide hallway.
Two guards standing outside immediately straightened, their backs snapping like rulers. They both bowed low.
I just... stared at them.
They were dressed in all black from head to toe. Their faces were blank-like carved stone. Their eyes were sharp, watching my every move.
"What the..." I muttered under my breath, making a face that clearly said what the hell?
When I stepped forward, they instantly fell into step behind me.
I spun around. "Why are you following me?"
One of them didn't even blink. "King's order, my Queen."
King's order.
I turned back around and groaned. "Fantastic. Just fantastic."
They didn't answer. Not even a twitch.
I sighed and kept walking. My bare feet were silent on the marble floor as my eyes took in everything around me.
The palace-because that's what it had to be-was enormous. Every wall was carved with strange symbols. Chandeliers sparkled above my head, and long curtains the color of blood framed tall windows.
Every time I passed someone-a maid, a servant-they froze, bowed, and whispered "Your Majesty" before scurrying away.
I had never felt so out of place in my entire life.
None of them looked surprised to see me alive, but they did look terrified.
My stomach turned uneasily.
I walked for what felt like forever before stopping at a wide balcony that overlooked the world beyond.
The sight hit me like a punch to the chest.
A vast stretch of forest spread out below, endless and green. Trees so thick they looked like a living sea. Mist rolled over the canopy like waves, hiding whatever lay beneath.
A shiver ran down my spine.
I gripped the stone railing, trying to calm the pounding in my chest. "Okay," I whispered to myself. "Think. You went to bed. You woke up here. That doesn't just happen. But...maybe someone drugged you? Maybe this is some kind of experiment?"
I laughed softly, but it came out shaky. "Or maybe I've completely lost it. Great. Perfect."
The guards stood a few steps behind me, still silent. It was unnerving-like being shadowed by ghosts.
I turned to them. "Hey," I said, trying to sound casual. "Quick question-where exactly are we?"
The taller one hesitated, then answered, "The Kingdom of Valnera."
I stared at him. "I'm sorry-what did you just say?"
"Valnera, my Queen," he repeated, completely serious. "Hidden deep within the secret forest."
I blinked at him. Slowly. "No, no-like... what country. You know, on Earth. France? Mexico? The freaking North Pole?"
The other guard exchanged a glance with him before saying quietly, "We're somewhere in northern Italy, my Queen."
Italy.
Italy?
I turned back toward the forest, my heart hammering. Then I turned to them again, my voice barely a whisper. "Oh my God," I breathed. "I've been kidnapped."
They both stiffened, but I didn't care. My hands were trembling so hard I had to clutch the railing to steady them.
This couldn't be happening. I was thousands of miles from home-in another country-with people calling me queen and talking about blood rituals and kings who hated their wives.
This wasn't real. It couldn't be real.
But before I could scream or ask another question, a deep, low sound rolled through the air.
It wasn't human.
It was a growl.
Not the kind a dog makes-this was deeper, darker. It rattled through the ground beneath my feet and crawled straight up my spine.
I froze.
The guards didn't move. They just exchanged another one of those unreadable looks, like this was... normal.
My gaze dropped to the forest below-and that's when I saw it.
A massive black wolf stood at the edge of the trees.
My breath caught.
It wasn't just big. It was huge-easily twice the size of any wolf I'd ever seen in a documentary. Its fur shimmered under the bright sky, thick and dark, and its eyes... God, its eyes were golden. Intelligent. Cold. Watching.
For a second, I thought I was hallucinating.
But then it moved. Slowly. Gracefully.
And the people walking below? They didn't even flinch. A few bowed as they passed it.
What the actual hell.
My heart jumped to my throat. I stumbled back from the balcony, shaking my head. "Nope. Nope. Nope. That's it. I'm done."
Then, as if it heard me, the wolf turned its head-straight toward me.
Its golden eyes locked on mine.
And it growled again.
The sound vibrated through my bones.
I screamed. I didn't even realize I had until the guards tensed. Without thinking, I spun around and ran back the way I came-bare feet slapping against the cold marble floor.
I didn't care if the guards followed or if I looked insane. I just ran.
By the time I reached the room, my chest was heaving. I shoved the doors closed, pressed my back against them, and slid down until I was sitting on the floor.
My heart pounded so hard it hurt.
"What the hell was that?" I gasped, my voice shaking. "A wolf? A-no, that's impossible. That thing was huge. People don't-people don't bow to wolves!"
I pressed my palms to my temples, squeezing my eyes shut.
"I'm going crazy," I whispered. "I must be going crazy."
I laughed again, a broken, desperate sound. "Right? That's what this is. A mental breakdown. Hallucinations. Maybe I hit my head and I'm in a coma somewhere."
But the floor beneath me was solid. The air was cold. I could feel my heartbeat pounding against my ribs, and no dream had ever felt this real.
My breathing slowed, but my mind didn't.
I stood and started pacing, muttering under my breath. "Okay. Okay, let's think. Either I've been kidnapped, or I'm part of some super messed-up simulation. Or... this is real. Which it can't be. Because there are giant wolves and blood-drinking kings and people calling me queen-"
I broke off, staring at my reflection in a mirror across the room.
The woman staring back wasn't me.
She had my face-but softer. Paler. Her eyes looked sadder. Her hair was long and perfect.
And the crown of faint bruises around her throat made my stomach twist.
"What happened to you?" I whispered.
Silence answered me.
For a moment, I just stood there, staring into that mirror, watching this stranger who looked like me but wasn't. The air felt heavier. The walls seemed closer.
Outside the window, thunder rolled.
"What the hell is happening?" I whispered. My voice cracked, and tears I'd been holding back finally burned down my cheeks.
"Where...where the hell am I?"
You may also like
9.4
Michael Carter is an undercover FBI agent on a mission to take down ruthless mafia king Fernando Ramírez-the man he believes killed his sister. But getting close to Fernando means playing a dangerous game, one where seduction and power blur the lines between enemy and lover.
When Michael uncovers a shocking truth, his thirst for revenge turns into a fight for something far more dangerous-his own heart. Now, torn between duty and desire, he must decide: destroy the man he swore to take down or surrender to the one thing he never saw coming.
Love has never been more lethal.
7.1
For seven years, I was the architect of my fiancé's criminal empire and the strategist behind his every move. I was Dante Gallo’s unofficial Consigliere, his partner in everything but name. Tomorrow, I was finally supposed to marry him and take my place as the queen to his throne.
But on the eve of our wedding, a single text message sent by mistake detonated my life. It was a photo from Dante, showing a platinum wedding band on his hand. The message read: “Married this morning. She’s safe now.”
My gaze fell to the engagement ring on my own finger. It was the identical band, just smaller. The engraved initials ‘D.I.’ didn’t stand for Dante and I. They stood for Dante and Isabella—his childhood sweetheart. My entire relationship was a lie; I was just a shield to protect his one true love.
He dismissed my discovery as a "tantrum." Then, his new bride began taunting me, sending a picture of them tangled in bedsheets with the caption: "Loser." They expected me to break. They thought I would shatter.
They were about to find out just how wrong they were. I forwarded the picture to Isabella’s fiancé, a man far more dangerous than Dante. "Your fiancée is in Suite 8808 at the Grand Hyatt," I told him. "I'll meet you downstairs. We're going to crash their party."
8.7
My little brother's heart monitor was screaming its final warning. I called my husband, Dante Volkov, the ruthless underworld king whose life I'd saved years ago. He had promised to send his elite medical team.
"I'm handling an emergency," he snapped, then hung up. An hour later, my brother was dead.
I found out what Dante's "emergency" was from his mistress's social media. He had sent his team of world-class surgeons to deliver her cat's kittens. My brother died for a litter of cats.
When Dante finally called, he didn't even apologize. I could hear her voice in the background, asking him to come back to bed. He even forgot my brother was dead, offering to buy him a new toy to replace the one his mistress deliberately crushed.
This was the man who had promised to protect me, to make my high school tormentors pay. Now, he was holding that very tormentor, Seraphina, in his arms. Then came the final blow: a call from the clerk's office revealed our seven-year marriage was a sham. The certificate was a forgery.
I was never his wife. I was just a possession he was tired of. After he left me to die in a car crash for Seraphina, I made one call. I texted a rival mob heir I hadn't spoken to in years: "I need to disappear. I'm calling it in."
8.2
When our family empire crumbled, my sister and I were sold off as collateral to the Chicago Outfit.
My fierce sister Frankie was forced to marry Damien Moretti, the terrifying Don. I was shackled to his brother Leo, a notorious, degenerate playboy.
I thought my life was over, but the real nightmare began on our wedding night. A terrified maid handed me the wrong room key. Exhausted and numb, I crawled into a dark honeymoon suite, praying my new husband would be too drunk to find me.
Instead, the heavy door opened, and a man fueled by a drug-laced drink stepped in. He was ruthless, punishing, and entirely stripped away my dignity in the pitch black.
When the morning light finally broke, I turned my head, expecting to see Leo's boyish face. Instead, I saw a profile carved from ice.
Damien Moretti. The Don. My sister's husband.
The very man who had previously called me a "liability" and ruined my life. When he realized who I was, his eyes filled with absolute, chilling disgust. He dragged me out of the ruined sheets, threw me onto the floor of a freezing shower, and demanded to know why I had sneaked into his suite.
"You ruined me. How am I supposed to look at Frankie? You should have just killed me. Kill me now, Damien. It would be a mercy compared to this."
I sobbed, the freezing water mingling with my tears. He just stared down at me with cold, unreadable intent. I was now trapped in a house of monsters, carrying the Don's darkest secret, and I had to figure out how to survive without destroying my sister.
8.6
The Maybach glided through rain, Dante's cold cedar cologne a familiar comfort. Seven years, my life revolved around him, my fingers on his suit cuff, a silent promise. But tonight, our normal shattered with a single phone call.
He answered, speaking rapid Italian – a language he thought I didn't understand. Every word: a death knell. Confirming his engagement to Sofia Moretti, dismissing me as a 'consolation prize.'
Seven years of loyalty vanished. His loving mask back, he left for his fiancée. I stumbled into freezing rain, recalling my foster past. My numb fingers dialed his mother, Isabella, demanding fifty million for my silence. Her insults didn't sting.
The true gut punch: Sofia's Instagram, a prenup on Dante's desk, proudly showing *my* watch, captioned: 'Fourteen days left.' This wasn't their celebration; it was my death sentence.
I wouldn't stay another day in this gilded cage. My old duffel bag, packed, waited. The Australia brochure, a childhood dream, in my pocket. This time, I would live for myself, and they would all pay.
9.1
I walked into the wrong hotel room...
To a naked man fresh out of the shower.
Now, I'm pregnant with his baby.
I should've left as soon as I saw him.
He was too beautiful to be real.
I got halfway to the door...
And then he saw exactly what I was trying to hide.
"Who hurt you?" he said when he glimpsed the bruises. "Let me fix it."
I should've said no.
But honestly? I deserve a little luck from the universe.
And if it wants to provide that luck in the form of a gorgeous, six-foot angel of darkness...
Well, I won't turn my nose up at that.
But nothing in this life comes without strings attached.
My angel gives me a night from heaven...
When morning comes, though, he turns into a devil.
And not just any devil.
This devil knows where I'm from.
Who I am.
What I've done.
And he's determined to make me pay for all of it.