Rejected Luna, Claimed by Daddy Alpha

Caesar's POV

Leo saw her first.

"Alpha," my driver said sharply. "That's Miss Viya."

I looked through the windshield.

She was walking down the mountain road alone in falling snow, cloak wrapped tight, steps uneven. Every few meters, she paused as if forcing her body to continue.

Marcus, in the passenger seat, went rigid. "That came from the Blackwood mansion."

I said nothing.

Olsen snarled so violently my claws nearly broke through my gloves.

"Alpha," Marcus said carefully, "should we stop?"

"You are eager to interfere in my family matters?"

He shut his mouth.

But when Viya stumbled, even my pride could not keep me still.

"What was Lucius doing tonight?" I asked.

Marcus checked his phone. "Tracking report says he left for a private restaurant near Westbridge. Miranda was there."

Of course.

Viya collapsed before Marcus finished speaking.

I was out of the car before it fully stopped.

She was light in my arms. Too light. Her skin was cold, her hands swollen from ice water exposure, and the front of her dress carried the faint scent of scalded tea.

My vision darkened.

"They punished her," Olsen growled.

I wrapped her in my coat and carried her into the car.

"Suite," I ordered. "Doctor waiting."

Marcus glanced back. "Hospital?"

"No. Too many eyes."

At my presidential suite, the healer treated her burns, bruises, and chilled body. He confirmed what I already knew.

Repeated physical stress. Suppressed wolf response. Trace poison in her system.

I stood by the window, listening to every word as rage settled into something colder.

When the healer left, Marcus remained.

"Alpha," he said, "the herbs in her system match wolfsbane derivatives. Slow-acting. Designed to weaken the inner wolf and interfere with fertility."

The glass in my hand cracked.

"Lucius?"

"Most likely. We're still tracing purchases."

"Trace faster."

"Yes, Alpha."

I looked back at Viya sleeping in the bed. She looked younger without her practiced Luna composure. Younger, and exhausted.

I had thought letting her marry Lucius was noble.

It had only made me absent from her suffering.

When I returned before dawn to check on her, the bed was empty.

Only the ointment jar was gone.

No note.

Of course.

Viya had learned not to wait for rescue.

---

Viya's POV

I woke in Caesar's suite and left before I could weaken.

His scent was everywhere-sandalwood, winter, safety. Once, that scent had meant home. Now it meant danger of a different kind.

If I stayed, I might ask why he had come.

Worse, I might hope he would come again.

So I took the ointment and left.

When I returned to the Wilde mansion, Miranda greeted me in the foyer with a smile that told me Lucius had spent the night soothing her.

"Rough night?" she asked.

"Not as rough as yours will be if you keep blocking my way."

Her smile tightened.

Then she tucked her hair behind her ear, displaying a pair of rare pink diamond earrings.

My breath caught despite myself.

Lucius had promised to buy those for me when they returned to auction.

Miranda saw the reaction and leaned in. "Beautiful, aren't they? Lucius said the color suited me."

I smiled slowly.

"How thoughtful of him."

"I suppose some women inspire gifts."

"And some women forget marriage law."

Her brows drew together.

I pulled out my phone. "Lucius and I are still legally married. If he bought those earrings with marital assets, half the value belongs to me. The auction price was one point two million, yes?"

Miranda's face drained.

"So," I continued, sending my account number, "transfer six hundred thousand by midnight. Or I'll discuss the matter with Luna Beth."

"You wouldn't."

"Try me."

Her phone chimed.

I walked past her.

Later, I packed my wedding dress into a disposal bag.

Lucius entered just as I tied the knot.

His gaze sharpened. "Why is your wedding dress out?"

"I'm throwing it away."

"You cherished that dress."

"I did."

"Then why discard it?"

"It's damaged."

"I can have it repaired."

I looked at him. "Some damaged things can't be fixed."

He flinched as if the words struck him.

But he did not understand.

He never did.

And soon, it would no longer matter.