Luna Of The Lone Wolf
18+ Reader Advisory:
This story contains mature themes and content intended strictly for adult readers.
From Chapter Nine onward, there is no turning back.
If you choose to continue, you do so at your own discretion.
Freya loved him for ten years... only to discover he had been sharing her bed with her sister. Heartbroken and betrayed, she walked away, leaving her title as Luna behind.
But freedom was a lie... her parents sold her to the Lone Wolf, a man feared, cursed, and utterly dangerous.
He is possession... demanding, intoxicating, and impossible to resist. Every touch, and every heated glance ignites her, but when he discovers she holds the key to breaking his curse, his desire turns darker, and more consuming.
She is no longer just temptation... she is necessity, and he will not let her go.
She hates him... yet a part of her aches for him, drawn to the man beneath the beast.
What will happen when the man cursed with emptiness and eternal loneliness discovers the woman who could break his curse?"
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Chapter 1
"I've been having sex with your sister, Freya," Alpha Modrich said to me.
I froze, forcing myself not to react. My face remained unreadable, even as his words tore through me. Inside, my chest burned with pain so deep it felt like I couldn't breathe. But I refused to let him see me break.
I wanted to scream, to hit him, to make him feel even a fraction of what I felt... but I sat there, silent and motionless, holding myself together while my world crumbled with every word he had just spoken.
*
*
*
My name is Freya, the Luna of Alpha Modrich, the Alpha of Goldside Pack. We've been together since I was fifteen years but became husband and wife when I was nineteen. Now I'm twenty-four... married for five years, been together for ten years.
When I was fifteen, I was trained on how to be a Luna. Although this union was not built on love but on duty, we are each other's responsibilities. I know he doesn't love me, but I don't know why he'd do it with my sister, of all people.
My legs crossed as I stared at the both of them sitting close to each other and holding hands. Like they are teenage lovers, and it burns my chest, but I don't show it... all thanks to all the training I had in the past on how to hide emotions as a Luna.
"I–It's not Alpha Modrich's fault. It's mine, sister," Veriel said.
I already heard the sweet pretense in her voice. I know my sister more than anyone. She's a manipulator, a deceiver, and a pretender. But she can deceive anyone but me.
"Yes, it's your fault. And you should be blamed for all this," I said, and her eyes flew to me in shock.
She couldn't believe I'd say that. She thought maybe I'd say... oh no, you don't need to blame yourself... you were naïve and blah blah blah.
I am four years older than Veriel, that doesn't make her a little child at twenty. She bent her head down, seeing I don't buy her pretense.
"You don't need to be mean to her, Freya," Alpha Modrich said.
I gave out a painful smile. He's taking her side? I'm not even pissed at Veriel the way I am pissed at Alpha Modrich. After one sex... the next... the next, and the next, and so on.
"Whose fault is it then? Yours?" I asked bitterly.
"It's yours, Freya," Modrich said.
My eyes flew in bewilderment. How is it my fault? I sat upright, staring at him. He couldn't even look me in the eyes when he spat those lies. Of course, I was prepared for these blames. I knew I'd surely be blamed for it... just as I have been blamed for everything in this life.
"No, Modrich. It's not Freya's fault, it's mine, honestly," Veriel said, referring to Modrich as Modrich without the Alpha. Just how long has he been sleeping with her?
"If I hadn't... if I hadn't drugged your drink, this wouldn't have happened."
Of course, the same thing they told me when they called me and said they had something to discuss with me. Veriel had spiked Modrich's drink and slept with him while he was not in his right state of mind.
The next day, when he woke, he didn't shout at her, he didn't inform my parents nor me... rather, he went ahead enjoying what Veriel had started, and he dares blame me for it.
"Forgive Veriel, she's not to be blamed, Freya. You forgive lots of people for crimes and disobedience in this pack as the Luna. Why can't you forgive your own sister then?"
I stared at Alpha Modrich, my heart shattered. I did things for him. I ruled by him, handled pack cases, and was his wife... and this is how he repays me? I'm hurt, but how can I show it when I've been taught to hide it?
"Can you leave me and my sister alone? I think we need to discuss alone," Veriel said to Alpha Modrich, who hesitated before sighing.
"Okay. Fine," he said.
He stood up and left the living room, and as soon as the door closed, Veriel knelt down and clasped her hands together.
"Sister, please... forgive me... I just wanted to know how it feels to have sex, and it just happened."
"Liar," I blurted out bluntly.
I don't know why she's kneeling down, but it's all a façade. And how dare she lie boldly in my face? She just wanted to know how sex feels when she's not a virgin?
Her eyes looked innocent, but only I know she's not innocent. She's cunning and manipulative.
"You've slept with different men, and yet you lie boldly in front of me that you just wanted to know how sex feels. And you did it with my husband?"
"Does this mean you are calling me a whore?" she asked, faking surprise.
Just then, tears started pouring from her eyes, and she started crying. To my surprise, the door flung open and Alpha Modrich came inside and looked at her. He bent to her in shock and stared at me in anger.
"What have you done, Luna?" he asked angrily.
"Freya just called me a whore and said I've been sleeping with other men other than you," Veriel said, sobbing real hard.
Alpha Modrich turned to me angrily. He stood straight and spoke.
"When I woke up after our first night, there was blood on the bed, signifying I am the first man she's been with," he said.
I know that's not true, and I know this... maybe she manipulated everything. Veriel is the queen of manipulations. Alpha Modrich raised his hand and pointed a finger at me with contempt.
"But I won't say the same about you, Luna. There was no blood when we had our first night, which means you've been with men before me. Who is the real whore now?"
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7.5
"Get up", I told myself "Get up or die here".
Rejected by her mate, Elara is marked as wolfless and left to die under the Blood Moon.
She was never meant to survive the rejection but the Moon Goddess had other plans.
When an enemy Alpha claims her protection, forbidden desire ignites, and a buried prophecy awakens. The girl everyone despised becomes the one the Moon fears most.
But power always comes at a cost.
With betrayal closing in and the Moon Goddess demanding her submission, she must choose between love and destiny.
Even if it means becoming the villain of every pack.
7.2
Ryker Vance, future Alpha, was on quiet evening patrol when Kian Sterling's panicked mind-link sliced his calm. Annoyed, he headed to the Healer's den, thick with Kian's distress.
Kian stammered, "Elian Thorne. He fell. From the sacred cliff." Ryker dismissed it as a clumsy Omega accident, but as he reached the door, a weak, intimate thought slipped into his mind: *"Go home, Ryker."* It was Elian, a low-ranking Omega he barely knew, commanding him.
Confused, Ryker left. His wolf restless, his gaze fell on a neglected moonpetal, Elian's gift, now limp. He woke to an absolute silence, a profound void. The moonpetal was gone, just grey dust. At Elian's funeral, unbearable grief struck. Memories crashed: Elian's mate offering, his "I love you" dismissed, Ryker's ignored warnings of soul-withering. Elian was his *mate*, and Ryker had caused his death.
The word *Mate* branded his soul. Consumed by absolute regret, clutching Elian's ashes, Ryker screamed to the empty sky: "Give him back! Give me a chance. Please."
The world dissolved. He opened his eyes to a training ground, vibrant, years younger. Then he saw him. Across the field, practicing drills, was a younger, healthier Elian, alive. Ryker walked straight to him, took Elian's hand, and with every eye on them, declared, "He's your future Luna."
8.8
Omega Unleashed
8.8
"Know your place slave. Alpha Carter will never want you. The next time I catch you trying to seduce him, I'll destroy your face."
******
Elena Reed's life is turned upside down when she's found at the scene of a murder with her hands coated in blood.
In an instant, her status is changed from omega to pack slave.
Now a decade later, the alpha king is coming to her pack to search for his Luna.
Will Elena finally be able to change her fate?
Or will she cower once more, too afraid to try.
8.4
My hands trembled as I smoothed my dress, waiting for Alpha Arthur to return. He had survived the transplant. I thought our Fated bond would finally be sealed.
But when the heavy doors swung open, the warmth I expected was gone.
Arthur walked in clutching another woman, Diana. He looked at me like I was a stain on the rug.
"The Moon Goddess played a trick," he sneered, his eyes glazed with a chemical devotion. "My donor's blood chooses her. The blood bond overrides some archaic fate."
He didn't just reject me; he made me a servant in my own home. When Diana framed me for breaking a ring, Arthur didn't hesitate. He ordered the Silver Whip.
"Arthur, please! I'm pregnant!" I screamed, shielding my stomach.
"Stop lying to save your skin," he spat.
He lashed me ten times with wolfsbane-dipped leather. I lay in the snow, feeling the warm blood of my miscarriage soak the ground, while he walked away to comfort his mistress.
He killed his own son for a lie.
That night, I signed my rejection in blood and vanished into the darkness.
Five months later, I returned. Not as a weak Omega, but as the legendary White Wolf, holding the hand of the most powerful Alpha in the region.
Arthur fell to his knees in the mud when he saw me, weeping. "I'll do anything. I'll give up the title."
I looked down at him coldly and handed him the whip.
"Ten lashes," I whispered. "For the baby you killed."
9.5
I was the heiress to a real estate empire, celebrating my engagement to Douglas at our Manhattan penthouse.
But when I stepped into the master bedroom, I caught him sleeping with my best friend, Krystle.
Before I could even react, Douglas forced me to sign away my family's entire trust fund.
He held up a tablet and forced me to watch a live feed of my parents being burned alive in our Hamptons estate.
"The fire hasn't reached the main house yet, sign it and I'll call them off," he lied.
As soon as the ink dried, he beat me to the ground and locked me in the soundproof study.
He poured twenty-three-year-old whiskey on the carpet and dropped a lit cigar.
"You could have walked away with nothing, but alive," he sneered.
He left me to burn to death while he and Krystle went back to our engagement party to drink champagne.
As the flames melted my skin and my bones shattered against the bulletproof glass, I couldn't understand it.
How could the man who promised me forever brutally exterminate my entire family just for money?
But I didn't die in that fire.
Three years later, with a reconstructed face and a new identity as the mysterious global designer Alice Moreau, I returned to New York.
Watching Douglas and Krystle flaunt the wealth they stole from my family's ashes, I smiled behind my black veil.
It was time to make them pay with everything they had.
7.4
Bridget, a ruthless twenty-first-century Wall Street analyst, woke up violently coughing up murky lake water in a decaying 1978 slum.
She quickly realized she was trapped in the body of a naive, marginalized teenager who had just committed suicide over a boy's cruel rejection.
The original girl had been mercilessly bullied by a fake rich kid named Kurtis and his cruel followers. They had publicly read her desperate love letters out loud, mocking her as a toad trying to eat swan meat, and simply watched as she threw herself into the freezing water. Now, her impoverished mother was left weeping by the bed, facing catastrophic debt and total social ruin in their small town. Everyone expected the surviving girl to wake up begging and crying for the boy who humiliated her.
Instead, a cold, calculating fury took over Bridget's analytical mind.
"I already died in that lake. That stupid girl is never coming back."
How could anyone throw their life away for a pathetic, vain clown wearing a mass-produced fifty-dollar watch? To Bridget, those uncollected love letters weren't symbols of teenage heartbreak. They were toxic assets. They were reputation landmines left out in the open that threatened her new family's survival.
Locking away the dead girl's weak emotions, Bridget forced her freezing, exhausted body out of the clinic bed. She set a hard three-month deadline to drag this family out of tier-one poverty. But first, she was marching straight to the volunteer camp to liquidate those liabilities and completely destroy the people who drove this body to death.