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My Mate Faked Death to Steal My Luna Title Novel Cover

My Mate Faked Death to Steal My Luna Title

Three weeks after I buried my mate, his twin brother called a council meeting to discuss territorial transition procedures. I sat at the far end of the Silverfang pack council table, in the seat I'd occupied since my eighteenth birthday when my father formally named me future Luna. The wood was old oak, scarred from decades of claws and arguments. I kept my hands folded on the surface and my expression carefully blank. Grief was expected. I wore it like armor. "Kody Sullivan" stood at the head of the table, shuffling through documentation my father's Beta had prepared. He looked exactly like Cole—same dark hair, same sharp jawline, same broad shoulders that filled out his shirt in a way that used to make my wolf purr. The resemblance was perfect because they were identical twins. Estranged, Cole had said.
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Chapter 2

Ivey found Dax Mercer on the third night.

She came to my office just after midnight, her boots leaving wet tracks on the hardwood. Rain had been falling since dusk, turning the forest floor into mud. She didn't waste time with preamble.

"He saw it," she said. "The whole thing. He'll talk, but he wants terms."

I looked up from the documents spread across my desk. "What kind of terms?"

"Safe passage. Territorial sanctuary once the Council rules. And he wants to negotiate with you directly. No intermediaries."

I considered that. Dax Mercer was a rogue, which meant he had no pack protection and no guaranteed rights under Council law. If Cole discovered Dax had witnessed the staged attack, Dax would be dead within twenty-four hours. The request for sanctuary wasn't unreasonable. It was survival.

"When?" I asked.

"Tonight. Border tree line, the old oak near the eastern ridge. One hour."

Ivey's expression didn't change, but I saw the tension in her shoulders. She didn't like it. Too exposed. Too many variables. But we both knew I had to go.

"You'll be backup," I said. It wasn't a question.

"Thirty meters out," Ivey confirmed. "Close enough to reach you, far enough to stay hidden. If anything goes wrong—"

"It won't," I said. I stood and pulled my jacket from the chair. "Let's move."

The forest was silent except for the rain. We traveled in wolf form, faster and quieter that way. My paws barely made a sound on the wet earth. Ivey's gray wolf stayed ten paces behind me, a shadow I felt more than saw.

The old oak stood alone on a small rise, its branches heavy with spring leaves. I shifted back to human form at the edge of the clearing. The rain soaked through my shirt within seconds, cold and sharp. I didn't care.

Dax emerged from the opposite tree line three minutes later.

He was lean and rough-edged, the kind of wolf who'd spent too many years living on the margins. His clothes were worn but clean. His eyes were alert, scanning the clearing, cataloging escape routes. He stopped fifteen feet away.

"Luna Griffin," he said. His voice was low and careful. "Appreciate you coming out."

"You have information," I said. "I have terms to offer. Let's not waste time."

His mouth twitched. Almost a smile. "Fair enough. I was hunting near the eastern border the morning your mate supposedly died. Heard the fight. Stayed hidden because I'm not stupid. Watched the whole thing play out."

"And?"

"Your mate walked away," Dax said flatly. "Forty minutes after his own patrol recovered the 'body.' Two wolves with him. Both had matching shoulder markings—three parallel lines, like claw marks. They headed west, toward the Sullivan territory line."

My wolf went still inside my chest. The shoulder markings were Cole's personal guard. Wolves he handpicked, wolves whose loyalty was to him alone.

"You can identify them?" I asked.

"I can sketch them," Dax said. He pulled a folded paper from his jacket pocket and held it out. "Did this from memory. Not perfect, but close enough."

I took the paper and unfolded it carefully. The sketch was crude but detailed. Three wolves, their postures drawn with surprising accuracy. The shoulder markings were unmistakable.

I knew those wolves. Marcus Hale. Ben Foster. Riley Cross.

All three had testified at the council inquiry. All three had confirmed the rogue attack story. All three had looked me in the eye and lied.

"What do you want?" I asked.

Dax didn't hesitate. "Safe passage letter. Signed by you, witnessed by your Beta. Valid once the Alpha Council issues their ruling. Territorial sanctuary within Silverfang borders, with full pack law protection. Non-negotiable."

I studied him. He was scared. I could see it in the tight set of his jaw, the way his weight stayed balanced on the balls of his feet. He was risking everything by coming forward, and he knew it.

"You'll testify before the Alpha Council," I said. "Full account. No omissions. No disappearing before the ruling."

"I'll testify," Dax said. "But I need that letter first. Cole finds out I'm talking, I'm dead before I reach the Council hall."

He was right. I nodded once. "You'll have it by tomorrow night. Ivey will deliver it. Once you testify and the Council rules, you're under Silverfang protection. You get sanctuary, a place to live, and pack law coverage. In return, you stay clean. No theft, no trouble. You follow pack rules like everyone else."

"Deal," Dax said immediately.

I folded the sketch and tucked it inside my jacket. "Don't make me regret this."

Dax's expression shifted. Something like respect flickered across his face. "You're nothing like the rumors said, Luna."

"What did the rumors say?"

"That you were soft. Easy to manage." He shook his head slowly. "They were wrong."

He melted back into the tree line before I could respond.

I waited until his scent faded completely, then shifted and ran. Ivey fell into step beside me without a word. We didn't stop until we reached the pack house.

Back in my office, I spread the sketch on my desk next to the intercepted mind-link fragments I'd been collecting. The picture was getting clearer. Sharper. Cole had built this scheme carefully, but he'd left threads. And I was pulling every single one.

Ivey stood by the window, arms crossed. "The safe passage letter?"

"I'll draft it tonight," I said. "You deliver it tomorrow. Make sure Dax understands the terms."

"And the Council?"

I looked at the evidence in front of me. Documents. Testimonies. Scent confirmation. A rogue eyewitness willing to go on record. It wasn't everything yet, but it was close.

"We're almost there," I said quietly. "A few more pieces and we move."

Ivey nodded. She didn't ask what would happen after. She already knew.

I was going to destroy him.

Two nights later, I intercepted the mind-link fragment that changed everything.

Pack Elder Morris had been on the council frequency for forty years. He was loyal to my father, loyal to me, and quietly horrified by what "Kody" was doing to pack protocol. When I asked him to monitor the Alpha command channel, he agreed without hesitation.

The fragment came through at 2 a.m. Morris forwarded it to me immediately.

It was a conversation between "Kody" and someone I didn't recognize. The audio was broken, fragmentary, but the words were clear enough.

"—original timeline still viable? Celia's getting impatient—"

"—tell her Luna preparations take time. Can't rush the Council—"

"—when I was Alpha, these transitions were faster—"

I played it three times.

*When I was Alpha.*

Kody Sullivan had never been Alpha. Cole had.

I saved the file. Added it to the folder. And allowed myself a cold, thin smile.

Cole had just confessed.

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