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Marked as the Ruthless Alpha's Vengeful Luna Novel Cover

Marked as the Ruthless Alpha's Vengeful Luna

I was supposed to marry the future Alpha of the Blackwood Pack today to save my dying family. Instead, minutes before the Uniting Ceremony, my maid handed me a tablet showing my fiancé, Julian, holding hands with a human in Paris. His public post read: "Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom." My father didn't comfort me. He looked at me like a failed investment and ordered me to fly to Paris to beg Julian to come back. My cousin disgustingly offered to take his "sloppy seconds" just to keep our alliance. Worse, the Blackwood officials stepped in. To save their own reputation, they decided to cancel the wedding and publicly announce that I, a wolfless Omega, was deemed impure by the Moon Goddess. This lie was a death sentence. It would void our pack's protection, allowing rival alphas to slaughter my family and annex our lands by tomorrow night. To all of them, my shattered dignity meant absolutely nothing. I was just a broken sacrifice, ready to be thrown to the wolves or sold to the lowest bidder. Why should I take the fall and lose everything for a coward who chose a human over his duty? The last shred of my obedience died right then and there. I pushed past my abusive family, walked straight down to the VIP lounge, and locked the heavy mahogany doors behind me. Looking the terrifying true Alpha, Damien Blackwood, dead in the eye, I offered him a victory. "Marry me instead."
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Chapter 1

Elara POV

The consecrated presidential suite at The Pierre was supposed to be my sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of lilies, myrrh, and a sharp, metallic tension meant to bless the Uniting Ceremony. Instead, it felt like a tomb.

The heavy mahogany doors, carved with the roaring black wolf crest of the Blackwood Pack, burst open. My Omega maid, Lila, stumbled in. The sour, pungent stench of her terror hit my nose before she even spoke.

"Miss Elara," she gasped, her hands trembling violently as she shoved an iPad toward me.

I looked down. It was a grainy, black-and-white photo posted on Julian Blackwood’s public social media, tagged at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. In the center of the frame, Julian’s hand was tightly intertwined with another—a distinctly human hand, its nails painted a glossy red.

The caption beneath it read: *Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom.*

The iPad slipped from my fingers, hitting the moonstone vanity. Julian hadn't just run away from our arranged mating; he had publicly humiliated me, his Pack, and the Moon Goddess herself.

Before the reality of his betrayal could fully sink in, my father, Richard Vance, stormed into the room. The foul stench of rotting leaves and pure panic rolled off him in waves. He didn't look at me with pity. He looked at me like a failed investment.

"Where is he?!" Richard roared, his weak Alpha aura flaring uselessly. "If this ceremony fails, the Blackwoods will pull their protection! The Vance Pack will be wiped off the map by tomorrow night!"

"We'll be the laughingstock of the entire continent," my stepmother, Susan, wailed behind him, clutching her pearls. "We'll be demoted to Omegas! Or worse, left to the Rogues!"

A chilling numbness spread through my veins. To them, my shattered dignity meant nothing. I was just a broken sacrifice.

"We control the narrative," a cold voice interrupted. Anya, a high-ranking Blackwood official, stepped into the suite flanked by two massive Warriors. Her scent was sharp, like ozone before a strike. She looked at me with utter disdain. "We will announce that the wolfless Omega was deemed impure by the Moon Goddess at the last moment. Her body couldn't handle the Blackwood bloodline. The ceremony was canceled for her safety."

"No," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

Anya’s eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"If you blame a wolfless Omega," I met her icy glare, "you make your future Alpha look like a coward who couldn't even handle a weakling. It will ruin the Blackwood name just as much as ours."

Anya stiffened, realizing the truth in my words.

Desperation twisted my father's face. He lunged forward, his fingers digging painfully into my wrist. "You will get on a plane to Paris right now," he commanded, trying to force me into submission. "You will find him, and you will beg him to come back!"

The disgust I felt was physical. I yanked my arm out of his grip with a violent jerk. "Don't touch me."

"I have a better idea," a slurred voice drawled from the doorway. Julian's cousin, Caelan, leaned against the frame, reeking of cheap bourbon and greasy hair. He flashed a lecherous smile, his eyes raking over my body. "I can step in. Save the day. She’s still a viable breeder, isn't she? I'll take Julian's sloppy seconds."

He reached out to stroke my bare shoulder. I stepped back, my stomach churning.

If I stayed silent, I would be sold to the lowest bidder to save my father's pathetic skin. The last shred of my obedience died right then and there.

"Enough," I said, my voice cutting through the chaotic room like a silver blade. I looked past my father, past Caelan, directly at Anya. "Where is the real Alpha? Where is Damien Blackwood?"

The absolute dead silence that followed was deafening. Just the mention of his name drained the blood from my father's face. The scent of terror in the room spiked to a suffocating level.

"He... he is in the VIP lounge downstairs," Anya stammered, her previous arrogance vanishing.

I didn't wait for another word. I pushed past my father's trembling form, ignoring Susan's gasps, and walked out into the hallway. The thick, crimson carpet swallowed my footsteps as I pressed the elevator button.

The doors slid open, and I stepped inside. The polished brass walls reflected my pale face, but my eyes were burning with a fire I didn't know I possessed.

*If I am to be a prize,* I told my reflection as the elevator began its descent toward the apex predator's den, *I will be claimed by the Alpha, not his dogs.*

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