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My Mate Returned with a Luna and Child Novel Cover

My Mate Returned with a Luna and Child

Five years. That’s exactly how long it takes to turn a grieving heart into a block of ice, and I had become an expert sculptor. As the lead Event Coordinator for the Regional Alpha Council, I didn't have the luxury of emotions. I had a schedule, a clipboard, and a ballroom in downtown Los Angeles that needed to look like the Moon Goddess herself had decorated it. "The hydrangeas are wilting on table six," I barked into my headset, striding across the polished marble floor of the hotel lobby. My heels clicked a sharp, staccato rhythm that made the junior staff scatter like frightened rabbits. "Replace them. Now. And tell the valet team that if they scratch another Alpha's SUV, they’re paying for it in blood." I checked my watch. The Moon Goddess Gala was the premier event of the season, a place where alliances were forged and broken over champagne.
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Chapter 2

The lobby air turned into concrete in my lungs. I couldn't inhale. I couldn't think. The image of Sebastian—alive, breathing, holding another woman's hand—burned into my retinas like a solar flare.

I turned and ran.

My heels skidded on the polished marble as I shoved past a confused valet, bursting through the side doors into the hotel's sprawling gardens. The cool night air hit my face, but it didn't help. My chest heaved, a ragged, suffocating rhythm. Every step I had taken for the last five years, every tear I had shed over an empty casket, every night I had screamed his name into the void—it was all a lie.

"Ella! Stop!"

Strong arms wrapped around my waist, halting my frantic flight before I could collapse into the rose bushes. I thrashed for a second, panic blinding me, until the scent of rain and pine penetrated the fog.

Corbin.

I sagged against him, my legs turning to jelly. He held me up, his chest a solid wall against my trembling back.

"He's not a ghost, Corbin," I gasped, the words tearing out of my throat like jagged glass. "He didn't die in the ambush. He faked it. He chose them."

I felt Corbin stiffen. A low, dangerous growl vibrated through his chest, a sound so primal it made the leaves on the nearby bushes shiver. His aura flared, hot and protective, wrapping around me like a shield.

"He did what?" Corbin’s voice was deadly calm, but his eyes were storms of shifting obsidian.

"He ran away," I sobbed, clutching the lapels of his tuxedo. "He let me bury him so he wouldn't have to reject me."

Corbin’s grip tightened on my arms, grounding me. "I'm going to tear his throat out."

"No," I shook my head frantically. "Not here. Not at the Gala. I just... I can't breathe. I need water."

Corbin hesitated, looking torn between comforting me and hunting down the man who had destroyed my life. "Stay right here. Do not move. I’ll get you water, and then we are leaving. To hell with the Council."

He squeezed my hand once before sprinting back toward the terrace bar. I leaned against a stone fountain, trying to force oxygen into my blood.

*Is that the broken toy Daddy threw away?*

The child’s wolf voice echoed in my memory, a chilling reminder that I wasn't crazy. That little girl knew. They all knew.

"Ella."

The voice came from the shadows of the trellis. I froze. My heart hammered against my ribs, not with love, but with a terrifying mixture of rage and trauma.

Sebastian stepped into the moonlight. He didn't look guilty. He didn't look like a man who had destroyed a woman's soul. He looked annoyed.

"You're making a scene," he said, adjusting his cufflinks. "I expected more dignity from you after all this time."

I stared at him, my mouth agape. "Dignity? You've been dead for five years, Sebastian! I mourned you! I wanted to die with you!"

He sighed, stepping closer, invading my personal space. "It was a mercy, Ella. Kyla was pregnant. If I had rejected you publicly, the bond snapping would have destroyed you. I staged the ambush to spare you the pain of a rejection ceremony. I did it for you."

The audacity stole my breath. He was twisting his cowardice into a noble sacrifice. He had left me to rot in grief not to save me, but to save himself the embarrassment of breaking a fated bond for a mistress.

"You are a monster," I whispered.

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed. The air around us grew heavy, dense with the crushing weight of an Alpha's command. "Watch your tone, Ella. I am an Alpha now. You will show respect."

The command slammed into my mind, an instinctual urge to bare my neck and submit. My knees buckled slightly under the pressure. It was the same aura I used to find comforting, now weaponized to silence me.

*Broken toy. Broken toy.*

The child’s malicious thought resurfaced, sharp and clear. It acted like an antidote to his venom. He didn't see me as a person; he saw me as a loose end to be tied up.

I locked my knees. I grit my teeth. I looked him dead in the eye and refused to bow.

"I am not your pack member, Sebastian," I hissed, fighting the crushing weight of his aura. "And you are not my Alpha. You are a fraud."

His composure cracked. He took a threatening step forward, his hand raising as if to grab me, when a sickly sweet voice cut through the tension.

"Bastian? There you are."

Kyla emerged from the path, her hips swaying in a tight red gown that cost more than my car. She walked right up to Sebastian and placed a possessive hand on his chest, her fingers splaying over his heart as if to check it was still beating for her.

She looked at me, her eyes raking over my trembling form with disdain. She sniffed the air, wrinkling her nose as if she smelled garbage.

"Is she bothering you, honey?" Kyla asked, her voice dripping with faux concern. She turned her gaze to me, a smirk playing on her lips. "You look unwell, dear. Shaking like a leaf. Are you sure you're stable enough to be running an event of this magnitude?"

She stepped closer, dropping her voice so only I could hear. "The Council doesn't hire hysterical women, Ella. If you can't handle seeing an old flame, maybe you should go back to playing the grieving widow. It suited you better."

She knew. She had known for five years. While I was weeping over a grave, she was laughing in his bed.

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