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Rejected Luna's Final Escape Novel Cover

Rejected Luna's Final Escape

The day I suffered my seventh miscarriage, Alpha Marcelo returned to our packhouse with a young Omega named Virginia. She carried the faintest curve of a baby bump, her youthful face glowing with the promise of new life. The sight of her made my chest tighten, but I forced myself to remain composed. "Virginia is still young," Marcelo said, his voice cold and detached. "She’s inexperienced with pregnancy. As the Luna of this pack, it’s your duty to guide her." He paused, his dark eyes narrowing as he studied my reaction. "Since your pregnancies have all ended in tragedy, we’ll claim Virginia’s pup as ours once it’s born. It’s for the good of the pack." For the first time, I didn’t cry or argue. I simply nodded, my expression blank. Marcelo seemed almost pleased by my compliance, offering a rare moment of false kindness.
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Chapter 3

I had been kneeling until my legs felt like they were about to give out when a pack warrior arrived to escort me to Marcelo. As soon as I stepped out of the car, the scent of sizzling meat hit me, and I realized we were at a high-end steakhouse, packed with patrons and filled with the rich aroma of grilled food. Virginia spotted me immediately, her golden eyes gleaming with mischief as she waved me over. Slowly, I dragged my bruised and swollen legs to her table, my head bowed in submission.

With a sly grin, she pointed at me and announced to the group, "This is the Omega who tends to me. You might recognize her—she’s the Luna of the Silver Moon Pack."

The faces around the table shifted, a mix of pity and thinly veiled disdain. Virginia pouted dramatically and gestured to a plate of shrimp cocktail. "Luna, peel the shrimp for me."

I forced a polite smile, though my hands trembled. "I’m sorry, Virginia. I’m allergic to shellfish. I can’t do that for you."

Her lips curled into a pout, and she turned her gaze to Marcelo, who sat at the head of the table, his broad frame exuding dominance. He swirled his wine glass, his dark eyes locking onto mine with a smirk. "What’s the matter, Alyssa? Would you prefer to kneel here instead?"

"Or perhaps you’d like a drink? We seem to be missing a drinking partner at this table."

I knew Marcelo wasn’t going to let this go. He never did. So, I steeled myself and nodded, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. "Alright, I’ll drink."

I grabbed the bottle of whiskey he indicated, ignoring the sharp burn as I downed it like water. My wolf whimpered in the back of my mind, but I silenced her, forcing myself to keep going.

By the tenth bottle, the pack members around the table began to intervene. "Alpha, that’s enough. We’re just here to enjoy a meal, not to harm anyone."

Marcelo’s jaw tightened, his alpha aura flaring as he leaned forward, his voice cold and cutting. "I’m curious to see how much she can handle."

My tolerance was high; at least, I remained conscious until I finished the twentieth bottle. On the way to the pack’s infirmary, the healer diagnosed me with alcohol poisoning, her tone laced with concern. But I barely registered her words, my body burning with fever and my legs screaming in pain.

Lying on the cot, I couldn’t stop the tears from spilling over. My wolf stirred again, her soft voice echoing in my mind. *He doesn’t mean it. He’s hurting too.* But I didn’t believe her. Not anymore.

A gentle voice beside me asked what was wrong. I choked out, "Marcelo, my leg hurts so much."

The next moment, I felt a warm hand gently massaging my leg, the touch so tender it almost made me forget the pain. Comforted, I closed my eyes and drifted into a restless sleep.

In my dream, I was back at Moonstone Academy, where Marcelo and I had first met. He was the future Alpha, and I was just an Omega, but we had been inseparable. Our bond had felt unbreakable, our love pure and all-consuming.

But everything changed after the accident. My parents had lost control of their car, colliding with Marcelo’s parents’ vehicle. None of them survived. After that, Marcelo’s heart turned to stone. He mated me not out of love, but out of revenge. I knew the truth about my first six pups—it was Marcelo who had poisoned me, causing their deaths.

For years, I endured his cruelty, hoping that one day he would let go of his hatred and we could start anew. But seven years and seven lost pups later, all I had to show for it was a body scarred by pain and a heart shattered beyond repair. I was tired of waiting. I didn’t want to wait anymore.

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