Out Of The Shadows; Rise Of The Fierce Luna
Alyssa wanted just one thing in life, to be loved by her family and her mate but after a near-death experience, she realized they don't care about her and they never will. Her family disowned her and banished her from the pack, her mate rejected her and mated with her sister who set her up and almost got her killed.
"They hate me for no reason! They don't want me and now I am going to show them! I am going to make them regret ever being mean to me."
Determined to make those who hate and want her dead pay, she goes on a journey of self-discovery with the help of Jace Carter, a powerful alpha who at first just wanted to use Alyssa to get revenge on the Dark Blood pack for what they did to his sister but found himself drawn to her.
"Be my Luna and I will stand by you and make those who hurt you pay."
His offer was too tempting for Alyssa to say no even though she knew better than to trust Jace especially because of the feud that started between their packs after one of her brothers hurt his sister.
"The enemy of my enemies is my friend,"
Alyssa is determined and nothing can stop her. With the power that comes with being Luna of the Wildheart pack, her full potential is finally unleashed! Healer? Seer? Mind reader? She got powers that she didn't even know of and one by one, she discovers them.
Now her family and pack want her. "Alyssa, you are a member of this pack, you have to come back to the Dark Blood pack."
Too late...
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Chapter 1
Alyssa
"Someone help me!"
I cried out but my voice could barely be heard.
The warehouse was on fire, but my body was too weak to move. Someone sprinkled silver dust which trapped my wolf inside me, and I was also drugged.
Smoke clawed at my throat, forcing a series of painful coughs from my lungs.
"Please."
I pleaded to the universe, hoping for a miracle before the fire gets serious.
My head whipped to the side when I suddenly heard footsteps, it was Sasha, my sister.
She is walking towards me with a mask over her face.
"Sasha, help me"
I let out when she got near me.
But when I reached out for her and grabbed her leg, she kicked off my hand.
"Don't you dare call my name. How does it feel to be trapped? How does it feel being unable to save yourself?" She sneered.
I couldn't believe what I heard.
I was the real daughter of the Dark Blood. I was accidentally kidnapped by rogues as a child and only recently returned to the wolf pack. It was only after returning that I learned my parents, desperate for me, adopted a daughter just like me.
I've always treated her with all my heart, treating her like my own sister. I even used my rare blood type to save her when she was in danger.
And yet, she's so cruel to me now?
"You thought you had it all now that you return to the pack?"
She laughed wickedly while I coughed and stretched my dry throat trying to make sense of the things my supposed sister just said to me.
How can she say that when our parents and brothers all favor her, while I am always pushed to the side and ignored.
"I want you dead! Once you die, my life will finally be mine alone! I want you gone you leech!" She continued.
She yelled at me and kicked me hard on the stomach causing me to roll over in pain. Tears fell from my eyes as I struggled to get up.
My hope was once again raised when I heard more voices. Sasha heard the voice too because she suddenly took off the gas mask she had been wearing.
I have a bad feeling and I was proven right when she suddenly ripped off her blouse and pulled out a powdered substance which she poured and rubbed on herself before lying down dramatically. It all happened so fast and the next thing I knew, she was screaming.
"Somebody help me, Alyssa has gone crazy!"
My brothers and parents rushed into the room. They were all wearing masks.
You would expect at least one of the seven people who entered a burning warehouse to actually care about me but no one cared and they all rushed to Sasha who lied on my name.
"I don't know what has gotten into her. She drugged me and started the fire."
She lied while coughing dramatically and crying fake tears that my family believed. One of our brothers carried Sasha up and I watched my family turn to me in anger.
They didn't try to help me up when I reached out to the nearest person who turned out to be my mom, she just kicked my hand away and spat out.
"Rouge is always a rogue. I regret the day I let you into my house! You have been a thorn in this family's flesh since you came in and now, we are over it! You are no longer a member of our pack!"
I couldn't believe what I was hearing from the woman I called my mother for five years.
"She has never been a member of the family and our pack! Now she is banished from the Dark Blood pack because I won't stand and watch her constantly try to kill my princess."
My father added and even my brothers cursed at me. I watched my family walk out of the place without helping me out.
I cried for them to come back and save me but not one of them listened. Moments after they left, the fire intensified as if someone had added gasoline to the already burning. I couldn't even cry anymore as the fire surrounded me and my body started feeling the heat!
I couldn't breathe anymore and didn't even have the will to fight for my life because what's the point? I am not wanted and there's no way to save myself when I am trapped. Just before I blacked out from the heat and smoke, I could have sworn I heard someone run into the place.
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8.2
At my ten-week ultrasound, I was supposed to be celebrating the future of the Falcone family. I was Isabella Falcone, wife to the most powerful Don in the south.
But when the nurse called my name, the man who stood up beside his pregnant mistress was my husband.
In the sterile silence of that waiting room, he chose her. He later confessed he was being blackmailed by her family-a weakness that was a death sentence in our world. That night, he moved his mistress into our home, into my bedroom, and locked me away like a prisoner in the staff quarters. He wasn't imprisoning his wife; he was guarding an asset. He needed the legitimate heir I carried to save his crumbling empire.
His betrayal was absolute when his own mother and my adoptive parents arrived while he was away. They forced me to sign divorce papers, then told me they were taking me to a clinic. His mother pulled out a gun and pointed not at my head, but at my stomach.
"We're terminating this complication," she said coldly.
As they dragged me from the house, my world went dark. But through the haze, I saw a fleet of black cars blocking the gate. An army of men poured out, led by a face I had only ever seen in a photograph. Days earlier, locked in my room, I made a single phone call to the only man more powerful than my husband: my biological father, the head of the Chicago Outfit. And he had come to collect his daughter.
8.6
I found the instruction manual for my own abandonment on a dark web forum while my husband scrubbed the scent of another woman from his skin in the bathroom.
The thread was titled "Burden Disposal Strategies."
The user, RatKing88, asked a simple question:
"How do I dump a loyal wife without triggering a war with the old guard? My parents love her more than me."
The replies were brutal. They suggested faking a dangerous mission, forcing a paper divorce for 'asset protection,' and then disappearing with the cash.
Moments later, Luca walked out of the bathroom smelling of cheap vanilla perfume and panic.
He grabbed my hands, his palms sweating, and spun a clumsy lie about a "Code Red" mission in Sicily.
"It is going to be a bloodbath, Sienna," he whispered, his eyes wide with manic energy. "We need to divorce on paper. It is the only way to protect you from the vendettas."
I felt a cold rage settle in my gut.
He wasn't a soldier going to war. He was a rat running off with his mistress and the family savings, leaving his stroke-ridden father and our daughter with nothing.
He planned to wait for his parents to die so he could return for the inheritance.
He thought I was just a naive, caged canary who would wait forever.
But he forgot that canaries are the first to smell poison in the air.
I didn't scream. I didn't expose him.
Instead, I looked him in the eye with carefully manufactured sorrow and signed the papers.
He thought he was escaping to freedom with a bag full of stolen cash.
He didn't realize he had just voluntarily abdicated his throne.
And I was going to take it.
9.3
I was the Mafia Princess of the Wolfe family, engaged to Daniel Marino to unite our powerful syndicates.
But during a hit at a speakeasy, we were both gunned down.
As my chest was torn apart by a Tommy gun, I looked at my fiancé, expecting him to reach for me.
Instead, there was no despair in his eyes, only a twisted, selfish terror.
We both died on that floor, but the devil sent us back to the day of my hospital discharge.
Instead of finalizing our wedding, Daniel stormed into my father’s study.
"I won't marry Isabella. I want Celine."
He demanded to break our engagement, claiming he wouldn't be collateral damage in a Wolfe family war, and declared his true love for my sweet, orphaned adopted sister.
He thought shedding me would save his life, completely unaware that the assassination was orchestrated by his precious Celine.
In my past life, I didn't know she was a rat who sold our patrol routes to rivals and plotted my murder just to take my place.
If I hadn't died once, I would have believed her manufactured tears and comforted her.
But this time, I remembered everything.
I buried the vengeful woman I had become and let my face pale as I pushed open the heavy oak doors.
"Daniel? You... you want Celine?" I whispered, forcing a heartbroken tear to fall.
This time, I would play the fragile victim, just so I could orchestrate their absolute ruin.
9.6
She came to St. Jude's to be invisible.
He made that impossible.
Elara Vance doesn't speak. Not because she can't, because the world stopped being safe enough to speak to. She's brilliant, she's careful, and she has survived worse than an elite private school full of students who treat cruelty like a sport.
She just needs two semesters. That's all.
Julian Reed was supposed to be background noise. The soccer star. The golden boy. The one everyone watches and no one really knows. She was not supposed to catch his attention. He was not supposed to keep hers.
But when Julian steps in to help her and accidentally paints a target on her back, Elara discovers that some enemies don't just want to win. They want to destroy. And some protectors don't know when to stop.
She doesn't need saving.
She needs to get through senior year without falling apart.
She's failing at both.
Enemies in the hallway. Secrets in the group chat. A stepmother at home who calls it honesty when she cuts. And a boy in the front row who keeps sliding notes backward and saying things like I pay what I owe like he actually means it.
Elara has one rule: don't let anyone in.
Julian Reed is very bad for her rules.
7.1
I never wanted any part in this. But I have no choice. With a deep sigh, I force down an invisible lump in my throat, looking up at the priest.
I press my fingers tighter into the flower I am holding, hoping it hides how much I am shaking. Dreading the words the priest is about to utter.
"Do you, Ariella Cecilia Boone, take Dermos Salvatore to be your lawfully wedded husband?" The priest asks.
I blink.
I badly want to say it, badly want to scream that I am not Ariella Cecilia Boone.
My lips tremble as I force the truth down my throat, "Yes, I do." I murmur, my voice a little over a whisper.
~~~~
Ariel Hannah Boone didn't know what life had in store for her when she woke up on her twin sister's wedding day, only to find out her sister had run away.
She went into panic when her mother insisted she take her place because Dermos Salvatore was no man to joke with.
Dermos was the most feared Don in the whole of Sicily, one who killed without care. A blood thirsty murderer with no remorse.
In an attempt to save her family from his wrath, she takes her sister's place at the wedding.
Pain, suffering, and betrayal are all she knows the moment she became his. Secrets begin to unveil as she realises her family isn't what it seems.
And when whispers of her sister's disappearance reach her, she finds out the truth.
He never wanted Ariella; it had always been her.
Ariel has to choose between a love built on lies or betraying her sister and family.
She was his bride, and he was her prison, yet he would never let her go.
8.3
I stood at the altar of St. Patrick's Cathedral, the daughter of New York’s most feared Don, ready to lower myself to marry a common soldier.
Then, a toddler in the front pew shrieked, "Daddy."
Liam didn't squeeze my hand for reassurance. He dropped it like it was a branding iron. In front of five hundred of the criminal elite, he ran down the aisle, scooping up his secret child and the mistress who had been blackmailing him.
He left me standing there, humiliated and alone.
Three months later, the "Jilted Princess" title still clung to me. Yet, Liam had the audacity to bring her to my father's birthday gala.
Sarah, wearing a dress far too tight and a smug smile, cornered me in the middle of the ballroom. She wanted to twist the knife.
"He hates you, you know," she screamed, loud enough for the Dons and Capos to hear. "He says sleeping with you was like sleeping with a statue. He chose real love! He chose a family!"
The room went deathly silent. Liam looked at me with pity, thinking he had won. He thought I was broken. He thought I was alone.
I took a slow sip of my champagne and set the glass down.
"I am not alone, Sarah," I said calmly.
I turned toward the shadows near the entrance.
"Ethan?" I called out.
The crowd parted instantly for the scarred, lethal man who stepped forward—The Ghost of Chicago, the most feared Underboss in Europe.
He walked over and wrapped a heavy, possessive arm around my waist.
"I’d like you to meet my husband," I told a horrified Liam. "And our daughter is waiting upstairs."