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No Longer Your Spare Part: The Luna's Revenge Novel Cover

No Longer Your Spare Part: The Luna's Revenge

The drill's whine was the only thing in my world, vibrating through my skull and drowning out my own screams. I was strapped to a cold metal table, paralyzed by wolfsbane, while surgeons bored into my hip bone to siphon my essence. "Just a little more," the surgeon muttered. "Isabella needs the boost for the wedding photos." They weren't saving my sister's life. They were harvesting my marrow just to make her skin glow for a picture. I looked at the observation window, begging with my eyes. Dante, the Alpha I had dragged from the jaws of death, stood there. He wasn't looking at me. He was holding Isabella's hand. He didn't know I was the one who healed him. He believed her lies. "Take it all if you have to," Dante's voice drifted through our fading mate bond. "Don't let her fade." The drill punched through. My heart stuttered and stopped. I died on that table, a hollowed-out husk used to feed my sister's vanity. "Seraphina! Are you deaf?" A sharp voice snapped me back into existence. I gasped, clutching my hip. No blood. No drill. No pain. I looked at the calendar on my father's desk. I was alive. And I had exactly one year before the surgery that killed me. I looked at my trembling hands and felt the ancient anger of my White Wolf stirring. I wasn't going to be the sacrifice this time. I was going to be the arsonist.
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Chapter 5

Seraphina POV:

The door hissed open. Light blinded me.

Dante stood there, impeccable in a tuxedo. He looked at me—blue-lipped, shivering—and for a nanosecond, his mask slipped. Horror?

Then the Alpha mask slammed back down.

"Get up."

I tried. My legs were wood.

Dante sighed, impatient. He hauled me up. His hand was warm, but the sparks were gone. It was just skin on skin.

"Tonight is the engagement party," he said. "You will attend. You will smile. And you will show the pack that there is no bad blood."

"I can barely walk."

"Lean against the wall," he said callously. "Go wash up. You smell like a corpse."

I scrubbed my skin raw in the shower.

I put on a black dress. Long sleeves, high neck. Mourning attire.

I knelt by my bed and pulled out a rusted tin box.

My pathetic treasure chest. A button from his shirt. Bloodstained gauze. A dried moonflower.

I carried the box into the hallway.

Dante was adjusting his cufflinks. He stopped.

"What is that?"

"Garbage."

I walked to the trash chute.

I opened it. I didn't hesitate. I tipped the box.

Whoosh. The incinerator roared below.

Dante flinched. He rubbed his chest, frowning, as if stung by a ghost.

"What did you just burn?"

"Nothing that matters anymore," I said, eyes dry. "Shall we go, Alpha?"

The ballroom was suffocating.

I stood in the shadows.

Dante took the stage with Isabella. She was radiant, feeding off the crowd's adoration like a vampire.

"My brothers and sisters," Dante boomed. "Tonight, I claim my happiness."

He turned to Isabella.

"Isabella Vitiello. You found me when I was lost in the dark. You healed me. Your scent was the lighthouse that guided me home."

Lies.

"Will you be my Luna?"

"Yes!" Isabella shrieked.

The room erupted. Dante kissed her.

I waited for the pain. The jealousy.

Nothing. Just silence.

I turned to leave.

"Wait!"

Isabella pointed from the stage.

"Sarah! Come here, sister! I want you to be the first to bless us!"

She wasn't done playing with her food.

I stopped. I turned.

And I smiled. A wolf bearing teeth.

"Coming, sister."

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