My Alpha Mate Forgot Me for His True Luna

The journey to Moonstone Pack territory lasted three days, though it felt like three lifetimes.

Gabriel—Thomas's Beta—kept me in the back of a transport vehicle with darkened windows. No explanations. No answers to my questions. Just silence and the constant hum of the engine that did nothing to drown out the screaming inside my head.

Because the mate bond was changing.

That golden thread that had connected me to Wade—warm, gentle, safe—was twisting into something else entirely. Something foreign. The comforting hum I'd felt for two years was being strangled, replaced by sharp, suffocating waves of Alpha energy that tasted like iron and dominance.

It made me physically sick.

I spent most of the journey with my head between my knees, fighting nausea. My wolf whimpered constantly, confused and hurt, unable to understand why our mate's essence felt so wrong now. Like trying to breathe underwater. Like swallowing broken glass.

This wasn't Wade's energy. This was Thomas Parker, and every cell in my body rejected it.

When we finally arrived, I expected—stupidly, foolishly—to be taken somewhere decent. Maybe not the Luna's suite, but at least guest quarters. Something that acknowledged I was still technically his mate, even if he wanted to pretend otherwise.

Instead, Gabriel led me to the servant's quarters.

The building sat at the far edge of pack territory, a squat concrete structure that looked like it had been forgotten decades ago. Inside, the air was damp and cold, smelling of mildew and neglect. My room—if you could call it that—contained a narrow cot, a cracked mirror, and a single bare lightbulb that flickered when I entered.

No windows. No warmth. Nothing.

"I'm sorry," Gabriel said quietly from the doorway. He actually looked like he meant it. "Alpha's orders."

"Of course they are." My voice came out flat, empty. I was too exhausted to feel angry yet. That would come later.

He left, and the lock clicked behind him.

I sank onto the cot, wrapping my arms around myself. The mate bond pulsed once—a sickening throb of Thomas's Alpha energy that made my stomach heave. I barely made it to the small sink in the corner before I vomited.

This was my reality now. From beloved mate to prisoner in less than a week.

I don't know how long I sat there on that cold floor, but eventually exhaustion dragged me under.

---

Two days later, they came for me.

Gabriel and two guards appeared at my door just after dawn. "Alpha Thomas requests your presence in the grand hall."

Requests. What a joke.

They escorted me through Moonstone Pack's territory, and I couldn't help but notice how different it was from Seattle. Everything here screamed wealth and power—manicured grounds, impressive architecture, pack members in expensive clothing who stopped to stare at me with open curiosity and disdain.

The grand hall was massive, all marble floors and soaring ceilings. And it was packed.

Pack members lined the walls. Visiting dignitaries sat in elevated seats. Everyone dressed in their finest, like this was some kind of celebration instead of my execution.

Because that's what this was, wasn't it? A public execution of whatever remained between Thomas and me.

He stood at the center of the hall on a raised platform, looking every inch the Alpha heir in formal pack regalia. Arabella stood beside him, her hand possessive on his arm, wearing a dress that probably cost more than my entire healing center.

She smiled when she saw me. Sharp. Victorious.

"Bring her forward," Thomas commanded, his voice carrying easily through the hall.

The guards pushed me toward the platform. I stumbled but caught myself, refusing to fall in front of these people. My bare feet—they hadn't given me proper shoes—slapped against the cold marble.

When I reached the platform, Arabella's smile widened. "Thomas, darling, before we can proceed with our mating ceremony, you need to sever your ties with... this."

She said 'this' like I was garbage. Like I was nothing.

Thomas looked at me, and there was no recognition in those steel-grey eyes. No memory of the two years we'd spent together. No acknowledgment of the mate bond that still connected us, twisted and wrong as it was.

"Kneel," he said.

I stayed standing. "No."

His eyes flashed. The Alpha aura in the room intensified, pressing down on everyone like a physical weight. Pack members around us dropped their heads in automatic submission.

But I was his mate. The bond gave me some resistance.

"I said kneel." This time, he used his Alpha tone—that special authoritative voice that could force compliance from any pack member.

My knees buckled.

I fought it. God, I fought it with everything I had. My wolf snarled and clawed, trying to resist the command. But Thomas was an Alpha heir, and his power was immense. My legs folded beneath me, and I crashed to my knees on the marble floor.

The impact sent pain shooting up my thighs.

Arabella laughed, a bright, delighted sound. "How fitting. On her knees where she belongs."

Thomas stepped closer, looking down at me with pure contempt. "You were a mistake, Carmen George. A filthy substitute for my true mate. An embarrassment I intend to correct right now."

Each word was a blade, cutting deeper than the last.

He raised his voice, making sure everyone in the hall could hear. "I, Thomas Parker, Alpha heir of the Moonstone Pack, reject you, Carmen George, as my mate."

The mate bond exploded.

It felt like my soul was being torn in half. Like every nerve ending in my body caught fire simultaneously. The pain wasn't physical—it was deeper, more fundamental. It was the severing of something that was never meant to be broken.

I couldn't breathe. Couldn't think. Couldn't do anything but feel the agony ripping through me.

My vision went white, then red. Something warm filled my mouth—copper and salt. Blood. I was bleeding internally from the sheer force of the rejection.

I doubled over, and blood splattered across the pristine marble floor. Bright red against white stone.

Whispers erupted around the hall. Gasps. Some shocked, some satisfied.

But I wouldn't cry. I wouldn't beg.

I bit down on my lip so hard I tasted more blood, using the physical pain to anchor myself. To stay conscious. To stay present.

Slowly, agonizingly, I lifted my head.

I looked directly at Thomas, making sure he saw my eyes. Making sure he saw that despite everything—despite the blood on my lips and the tears I refused to shed and the broken bond screaming between us—my spirit remained unbroken.

He wanted to see me destroyed. Wanted to see me beg.

I wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"Is that all?" I managed to whisper, my voice raw but steady.

Something flickered across his face—surprise, maybe, or discomfort—but it vanished quickly.

"Get her out of my sight," he said coldly.

The guards grabbed my arms and hauled me up. My legs wouldn't support my weight, so they dragged me. My bare feet left smears of blood across the marble as they pulled me from the hall.

The last thing I saw before the doors closed was Arabella pressing herself against Thomas, and him wrapping his arm around her waist.

Then I was back in the cold, damp darkness of the servant's quarters, alone with my shattered bond and my unbroken will.