
Rejected Luna, Claimed by Daddy Alpha
On the day of her coming-of-age transformation, Viya recognized Alpha Lucius as her destined mate.
From that moment on, she chased him relentlessly-ignoring his indifference,defying Alpha Caesar, the most powerful Alpha in North America who had raised her.
At twenty-one, she finally married him.
Not because he loved her-but because she was useful.
She was obedient. Considerate. Replaceable.
She silenced his family's demands for a Luna.
She managed his household flawlessly.
For three years, she played her role perfectly.
Until the night she planned to celebrate his birthday.
That night-she overheard everything.
He had poisoned her.
Just to make room for Miranda.
In that moment, she finally understood-the marriage she had sacrificed everything for was nothing more than a placeholder he intended to discard.
Then her phone rang.
Alpha Caesar.
The Alpha she had resisted for three years.
The man who had never stopped waiting for her return.
"When are you coming back?"
This time, she didn't hesitate.
"In a month."
One month to end a marriage built on lies-
and return to the Alpha she was never meant to escape.
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Chapter 4
Viya's POV
I woke in Sophia's guest room with a headache, a dry throat, and the humiliating memory of kissing Caesar Blackwood in public.
I pulled the pillow over my face.
Sophia walked in with coffee. "Good morning, disaster."
"I hate you."
"You threw yourself at North America's most terrifying Alpha and lived. That deserves breakfast."
I groaned. "Tell me I didn't say anything too terrible."
Sophia sat on the edge of the bed. "You told him he was late."
I lowered the pillow.
Her teasing faded. "Were you talking about Lucius or Caesar?"
"Yes."
She handed me the coffee and a folder.
"Divorce papers," she said. "Asset separation, clinic independence, provisional evidence packet. I drafted the first version years ago."
"Years?"
"Viya, I'm a lawyer. I prepare for disasters. Your marriage had disaster written in calligraphy."
Despite everything, I laughed softly.
Then I opened the folder.
Seeing my name beside Lucius's in legal language made something inside me ache. Not because I still wanted him. Because once, I had wanted the name Luna Wilde to mean chosen.
"When can I have him sign?" I asked.
"As soon as possible. Before he knows you know."
An hour later, I drove back to the Wilde mansion.
Miranda's car sat in my parking spot.
My books, coats, medical journals, and framed photos were scattered across the front lawn like trash.
For a moment, I simply stared.
Then the front door opened.
Miranda stepped out wearing my silk robe.
"Viya," she said sweetly. "You didn't come home last night. Lucius was worried."
"No," I said, walking past her. "He wasn't."
Her smile stiffened.
Inside, the house smelled of roses. Her scent. Her claim.
"You threw out my things," I said.
"I reorganized."
"You put my medical journals in wet grass."
Miranda tilted her head. "They looked old."
I turned to face her fully. "Be careful. Stupidity can be forgiven. Malice is harder to explain."
Her mask slipped.
"Don't act superior," she hissed. "Everyone knows why Lucius married you. You were useful. That's all."
"Useful enough to be Luna. Useful enough that you had to sneak around like a thief."
Her eyes flashed. "He loves me."
"Then why are you wearing my robe in my house, waiting for me to notice?"
She stepped closer. "Because soon this will be my house."
"Say it louder."
"What?"
I smiled. "Say you want my husband, my title, my bedroom, and my life. Say it like a woman brave enough to own her choices."
Miranda's lips parted, but no words came.
Of course not. Women like her needed shadows. Tears. Plausible grief.
"You're pathetic," I said quietly. "Not because you love him. Because you need me humiliated to feel chosen."
Her hand flew toward my face.
I caught her wrist before it landed.
Her eyes widened.
"Touch me again," I said, voice soft, "and I will make sure every wolf in this pack hears how the grieving widow tried to slap the Luna she stole from."
"You think they'll believe you?"
"No." I leaned closer. "But they'll wonder. And that will ruin you faster than truth."
The front door opened.
Lucius stepped in.
Miranda instantly collapsed into tears.
"Lucius!" she cried. "I only tried to help organize the house, but Viya threatened me."
Lucius looked first at Miranda's trembling form, then at me.
That hesitation told me everything.
"Did you threaten her?" he asked.
I laughed.
The sound startled him.
"My belongings are on the lawn, your brother's widow is wearing my robe, and you're asking whether I hurt her feelings?"
His jaw tightened. "Viya, don't twist this."
"I don't have to twist anything. Look around."
Miranda sniffed. "I didn't realize she would be so possessive. I only thought, since Lucius asked me to stay-"
I looked at him. "You asked her to stay?"
Lucius rubbed his brow. "She's grieving."
"She's pregnant with your child."
The room went silent.
Miranda's face went white.
Lucius's eyes widened. "What?"
I held his gaze. "Relax. I'm not asking you to explain. Not today."
From my purse, I pulled out the divorce papers folded beneath a clinic grant cover sheet.
"In fact, I need your signature."
He frowned. "For what?"
"A clinic document. Time-sensitive. As my husband, you're required to sign."
Miranda stepped forward. "Lucius, maybe you should read-"
I turned to her. "Are you worried about my clinic now?"
Lucius, irritated by the tension, took the pen. "Enough. I trust Viya with medical paperwork."
The irony nearly made me smile.
He signed without reading.
I accepted the papers with steady hands.
"Thank you," I said. "That's all I needed."
For the first time since marrying him, I walked away from Lucius Wilde with something he had given me willingly.
My freedom.
Before I went upstairs, Lucius followed me into the corridor.
"Viya, wait."
I stopped but did not turn around.
"What did you mean about Miranda being pregnant with my child?"
There it was-the panic beneath his Alpha voice. Not guilt. Not concern for me. Fear that his hidden world had leaked into mine.
I looked back over my shoulder. "Ask her."
"I am asking you."
"No, Lucius. You are asking whether I know enough to become dangerous. Those are different questions."
His face tightened. "Don't speak to me like I'm your enemy."
"Then stop standing on the other side."
For a moment, he looked as if he wanted to reach for me. Miranda's muffled sob came from the sitting room, and his hand fell back to his side.
I smiled faintly. "Go comfort her. You always do."
"Viya-"
"Don't worry. I won't make a scene. I know how much you hate when I inconvenience your lies."
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8.0
On the night of their third wedding anniversary, Ashley was ready to reveal a secret to her husband-
She was pregnant.
But moments after their passionate intimacy, her Alpha coldly delivered the blow-he wanted a divorce.
His fated mate had returned.
Stripped of her wolf spirit, abandoned by the pack, and carrying his child, Ashley was cast aside like a disposable Omega.
Just as she prepared to leave alone-
The boy she had once rejected had now risen as the most formidable Alpha King. The possessive hunger in his gaze sent shivers through her-did she dare face him? Was this vengeance, or something more? But did she even have a choice?

7.6
The heavy prison gates clanged shut, ending three years. I scanned the empty lot for Julian, my fiancé. Deserted.
Biting December wind my only welcome. Calls to Julian, father, mother: unanswered/disconnected.
Shivering, Julian's tracker showed an unfamiliar Long Island estate. A freezing cab left me penniless; I walked through the blizzard. Through a mansion window, I saw Julian, my stepsister Clara, a small boy—a perfect family. Julian, who hated children, doted on him, and Clara wore *my* engagement ring.
I overheard Julian's call: he, my father, conspired to frame me for Clara’s medical error, saving their company and future. My family hadn't just abandoned me; they plotted my destruction.
A delayed text from Julian popped up, lying about a "cross-border meeting," promising to pick me up tomorrow. Despair vanished, replaced by a cold, terrifying smile. Typing "Understood," I turned from their stolen life, walking into the blizzard, fueled by burning rage.

8.3
Ayleen Ramirez sat in the sterile Hope Hill Fertility Clinic, her heart shattering as Dr. Finch delivered the crushing news: her third IVF cycle had failed.
Eavesdropping outside a supply closet, she overheard her husband Don on the phone, laughing cruelly. "She's a defective incubator," he sneered to his mistress Alessandra. "I never used my sperm—just cheap bank donation. No trailer trash carries a Bradley heir."
Betrayed, Ayleen confronted him, but her adoptive family ambushed her at home. Her parents and brother sided with Alessandra, now pregnant by Don, demanding Ayleen sign divorce papers to secure family investments. "You're an embarrassment," her mother snapped, threatening to cut her trust fund. Ayleen tossed back their heirloom necklace and walked out.
She stormed the Bradley mansion, slapped divorce papers on Don, packed her bags amid his aunt's insults, and fled into the night.
Drunk in a trendy bar, she stumbled into a powerful stranger—Burdette Guerrero—spilling whiskey on his crotch, then accidentally grabbed a napkin to his trousers. He shoved her away in rage.
Worse, she mistook his penthouse suite for her hotel room, bursting in on his shower, smashing a mirror in panic. He pinned her to the wall, snarling accusations.
How did this arrogant man know her name? Why demand she sign a mysterious contract at 9 a.m.? Devastated and clueless she's actually pregnant—with his stolen heir—Ayleen sobbed alone, the world crumbling.
The next morning, she straightened her spine in the Grand Guerrero lobby, ready to face him and demand answers—no matter the cost.

8.0
My abusive step-family isolated me completely, holding my mother's medical funds hostage to control my every move.
Yesterday, they finalized my sale.
"You will marry Rudy Petrov next month. He is fifty, wealthy, and willing to overlook your lack of pedigree."
Pushed to the absolute edge, I did the insane. I posted an ad online offering my life savings of $50,000 for a contract husband. A stranger named Brennan agreed.
But my family wouldn't let me go. They forced me back for a dinner by threatening my mother's life-saving prescriptions.
At the table, they relentlessly mocked my new "poor IT guy" husband and intentionally burned my hand with boiling tea.
Worse, the housekeeper locked me in a guest room and forced drugs down my throat so Rudy could come in and assault me.
I lay there paralyzed on the floor, bleeding from Rudy's slap, utterly terrified. I couldn't understand why my own family would throw me to the wolves, and I felt a crushing guilt for dragging an innocent, ordinary guy into my nightmare.
Until a pitch-black Maybach smashed through the estate's wrought-iron gates at eighty miles an hour.
My "poor" husband kicked the solid oak doors off their hinges, beat Rudy half to death, and carried me out into the rain.
I didn't know it yet, but the ordinary man I hired to save me was a ruthless billionaire, and he was about to erase my family's entire empire by morning.

7.8
On the day she married, Alina unknowingly took the place of the Hayes family's daughter and became Kellan's wife, the richest man in town who was rumored to be disfigured.
Everyone mocked their doomed marriage, expecting misery and disgrace.
Instead, Alina revealed brilliance no one expected-a renowned jewelry master, financial genius, and medical prodigy.
The woman the Hayes family ignored was actually the heiress they should have treasured.
As regret consumed them and her ex begged for another chance, Kellan stood beside her, now devastatingly handsome.
"Alina and I are perfect together. Stay away from my wife."

8.7
I was dying in a cold hospital bed, listening to the monitor count down my final seconds.
As a ghost, I watched my own funeral. My popular friends and wealthy family soon moved on, but one person stayed.
Cas Riley. The invisible outcast from the back of my history class.
He brought a white rose to my grave every single day, withering away until he collapsed on the frozen ground, dying of a broken heart for a girl who barely knew his name.
Opening my eyes again, the hospital smell was gone. I was reborn back in my high school classroom.
I immediately tracked him down, only to witness the brutal hell he was trapped in.
He was humiliated by a cruel foreman for pennies, violently slapped by his uncle over his sick mother's medical money, and forced into bloody street fights.
He was starving, covered in bruises, and completely alone.
When I tried to buy him medicine and step into his life to protect him, he violently pushed me away in the pouring rain.
"Stay out of my life! To protect you, I have to fight, and when I fight, I lose everything!"
He wasn't rejecting me out of hate. He was terrified that his dark, violent reality would drag me down with him.
Standing soaked in the rain, my resolve hardened like steel.
Gentle kindness wasn't going to save him from this hell.
To protect the boy who died for me, I had to become ruthless enough to tear down his entire rotten world and build him a new one.