
Scorned Luna To Alpha Queen
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Book Two of the Betrayed Luna to Alpha Queen Series
Can be read as a standalone or after Book One
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"They were supposed to hate me. All four of them. But the Moon Goddess doesn't make mistakes, she just has a twisted sense of humor."
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"Let me die free rather than live as his possession."
Those were Lyralei Ravenwood's last words before she jumped off Widow's Cliff, choosing death over marriage to a monster hiding behind a charming smile.
She should have died.
Instead, she wakes in the camp of the Four Great Alphas..the most powerful, dangerous men in the ancient werewolf world. Men who look at her with resentment. Men who make it clear she's not welcome.
The Moon Goddess sent her to unite them against a rising darkness.
But they don't want unity. They don't want her.
Lyra didn't ask to be sent anywhere. She just wanted to escape a cage.
Now she's trapped with four hostile Alphas who see her as an obligation rather than a person. Who resent every breath she takes. Who make it clear that prophecy or not, she will never command their loyalty.
But something is awakening between them. Something ancient and undeniable.
The Primordial Mate Bond-a force that links one soul to multiple Alphas, pulling them together whether they want it or not.
As shadow wolves attack and an ancient evil rises, Lyra must navigate not just war, but the far more dangerous battlefield of four hearts that were determined to hate her.
Because feelings without trust are torture.
CONTENT WARNING: This book contains mature themes including explicit sexual content, violence, death of major characters, psychological trauma, and morally complex situations. Recommended for readers 18+
Scorned Luna To Alpha Queen Chapter 1
The cold water did absolutely nothing to wash away the evidence of her tears and Lyralei just stared at her reflection in the basin, at her eyes so swollen and red they looked like someone else's entirely.
"Bastard." She swore for the ninth time today. She splashed more water on her face, gripping the basin hard enough that her knuckles went white. "Fucking bastard."
She could still feel Theron's breath against her ear from an hour ago when he'd cornered her in the hallway.
"Tonight, I'm going to bend you over and fuck you until you can't walk straight. I'll make you scream my name until your throat is raw and you'll take everything I give you because you'll be mine. My wife. My property. My little breeding bitch."
His fingers had trailed down her spine, lingering at the small of her back.
"I've been patient, Lyralei. So fucking patient. But after tonight, there's nothing stopping me from taking what's mine. I'm going to ruin you in every way possible."
Her stomach turned at the memory and honestly it still hadn't stopped turning.
"I hope you choke on your own tongue," she whispered to the mirror, to his ghost in her head. "I hope you die slowly, you sick piece of shit."
A knock at the door made her freeze.
"Miss Lyralei?" The voice was soft and apologetic. One of the younger omegas probably . "It's time. The ceremony starts in few minutes."
Few minutes until her life ended.
"I'll be right there," she called back, forcing her voice steady even as her hands shook.
She straightened and looked at herself properly. The dress was beautiful and she hated the fact that it was beautiful. It had silver silk that caught the light, embroidered with delicate patterns that probably cost more than most families made in months. It fit perfectly, hugging her curves in ways that made her want to tear it off.
It made her look like a bride and she wanted to fucking burn it.
Her fingers found the pendant at her throat. The moon charm her mother had worn for years, still warm against her skin.
If only her parents were alive. The thought came suddenly that she had to shake her head to stop thinking about it.
They weren't alive again. They were dead. Three years dead, and she was still paying for their heroism.
"You had to save everyone," she whispered, her reflection blurring as tears threatened again. "You just had to throw yourselves at those shadow wolves like your lives didn't matter. Like I didn't fucking matter."
The bitterness coated her tongue like poison.
Her parents had died protecting the pack, Alpha Aldric had called them heroes, given them elaborate funerals and promised to honor their sacrifice by ensuring their daughter was cared for.
And he'd kept that promise by offering her to his monster of a son.
The Ravenwood family-what was left of them-had smiled and nodded like this was a blessing. Her cousins. Her uncles. Her aunt. All of them too afraid of Alpha Aldric and his perfect heir to say a word in her defense.
Not one of them had the spine to stand up to the Moonshadows.
Cousin Elara had just given birth two weeks ago. A tiny girl with her father's eyes. The first new Ravenwood in three years, and Lyralei was literally just doing this for her...for all of them in fact because if she refused Theron, if she ran, he wouldn't just let it go.
He'd make them all pay somehow. That's just how twisted the fucker was.
Another knock, harder this time.
"Miss Lyralei, please."
"Coming."
She dropped her hand from the pendant and took one last look at herself. At the girl who was about to become property. At the daughter of warriors who was walking into her own execution wearing silk and a smile.
She turned from the mirror and headed for the door.
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The hallway felt too long. Each step toward the great hall was like walking toward the edge of a cliff.
She could hear voices ahead. Laughter, music and celebration.
Her stomach twisted tighter.
"You look absolutely beautiful, dear."
Lyralei turned to see Elder Cassandra, one of the older pack members who'd known her parents. The woman's smile was warm and surprisingly genuine which pissed Lyralei.
"Thank you," Lyralei said instead automatically, her own smile feeling like a mask.
You know what he is. You know what he does to the omega girls. You know and you're still smiling at me like this is something to celebrate.
"Your parents would be so proud."
The words were a knife sliding between her ribs.
They'd be ashamed. Ashamed that no one fought for me. Ashamed that I'm being handed over to a monster and everyone is pretending it's an honor.
"That's very kind of you," Lyralei said, her voice hollow.
She kept walking, and more voices joined in to her dismay.
"Such a beautiful bride."
I'm not a bride. I'm a sacrifice.
"Theron is so lucky to have you."
Lucky? He's getting exactly what he wanted. A toy he can finally break.
"What a perfect match you make."
We're not a match. He's a predator and I'm prey with nowhere left to run.
Each compliment felt like mockery and each smile like a lie. They all knew. She could see it in the way some of them wouldn't quite meet her eyes. In the way Elder Roderick's jaw tightened when he congratulated her. In the way Beta Marcus looked away quickly when she thanked him.
They knew what Theron was. They just didn't care enough to stop it.
Or maybe they were too afraid.
Either way, she was alone.
The great hall opened up before her, and her breath caught in her throat.
Crystal chandeliers threw light across silk decorations and tables laden with food and wine. Pack members everywhere in their finest clothes, talking and laughing and celebrating the union of their future Alpha and his bride.
This was supposed to be the happiest day of her life but she'd never felt more alone.
Someone touched her arm, guiding her forward, and Lyralei moved through the crowd on autopilot. Smiling, nodding and accepting congratulations that felt like condolences.
Then she saw him.
Theron stood near the front of the room with his father, both of them in conversation with some visiting wolves. He was laughing at something, head thrown back, looking every inch the perfect future Alpha in his formal ceremonial leathers.
Handsome, confident and charming.
A monster dressed for a wedding.
Her hands clenched into fists in her gown, nails biting into her palms through the fabric.
Someone said something to him. He turned, still smiling, and his eyes found her across the crowded hall.
The smile stayed on his face. But his eyes changed.
They raked over her body, slow and deliberate. Lingering on the curves of the dress. On the exposed skin at her shoulders and throat as if he was imagining undressing her slowly.
His tongue darted out to wet his lips.
Lyralei's hands trembled and this time not from fear but from rage so pure she felt herself go dizzy.
That fucking look. That same predatory, fucking look that said she already belonged to him. That said tonight, after the vows, after the witnesses left, he'd finally do everything he'd been whispering about for months.
And no one would stop him.
Theron smiled wider and took a step toward her.
At that moment, she just...snapped.
Continue Reading
Scorned Luna To Alpha Queen of Contents
Chapter 1 Ch. 1Chapter 2 Ch. 2Chapter 3 Ch. 3Chapter 4 Ch. 4Chapter 5 Ch. 5Chapter 6 Ch. 6
Chapter 7 Ch. 7
Chapter 8 Ch. 8
Chapter 9 Ch. 9
Chapter 10 Ch. 10
Chapter 11 Ch. 11
All Chapters all
New Release Novels

8.6
I woke up choking on rotting air in an alien jungle, surrounded by giant bioluminescent ferns and a three-eyed, armor-plated beast charging straight at me.
Before the monster could tear me apart, I was saved by a squad of men with metallic wings and laser rifles, but my nightmare was just beginning.
When they brought me back to their high-tech military base, every soldier we passed stopped dead, staring at me with a feverish, starving hunger that made my skin crawl.
In the medical wing, a manic doctor bypassed all protocol, pulling out a wicked silver needle to forcibly extract my blood, looking at me not as a patient, but as a winning lottery ticket.
Even their highest-ranking commander, a giant, scarred Admiral, immediately tried to claim me, demanding I be moved into his personal bedroom for "protection."
I didn't understand why I was being treated like a caged miracle, nor why a simple, accidental touch of my hand could bring my winged protector to his knees and silence his feral instincts.
"In the Aethel Empire, there are no females," my protector whispered, his icy blue eyes filled with raw desperation. "You are the only one."
The portal that brought me here was fading, trapping me in a universe of eighty billion shapeshifting Alpha males. Looking at the terrifying devotion in his eyes, I realized my life as an ordinary human was over, and to survive this, I had to tame the beasts.

9.0
I am the undisputed ice queen of the ER, a doctor whose life is built on absolute control. A month ago, I impulsively married a stranger to create a legal shield against my ex-mentor's betrayal.
Our prenup had one strict rule: a fake marriage with zero interference in each other's lives. But tonight, my "husband on paper" was wheeled into my ER, unconscious, reeking of cheap whiskey, and suffering from a bleeding ulcer.
To authorize his emergency surgery, I had to sign the consent form as his wife, detonating a gossip bomb among my colleagues. Worse, his overbearing family found out he was hospitalized. To stop his terrifying mother from flying in and exposing our sham marriage, I had to lean over his hospital bed and take a fake, loving couple's selfie.
I didn't understand why this disciplined math professor was suddenly drinking himself to death, nor why my chest tightened when he looked at me with exhausted eyes and begged for homemade soup. My perfectly ordered, untouchable life was crumbling into a chaotic mess, and I was losing my grip on the narrative.
"We should probably spend some time together beforehand. We could be roommates."
To prepare for an unavoidable family dinner and a wedding, my stranger husband just asked me to move into his apartment. The ultimate uncontrolled variable has just crossed the line, and our fake marriage is about to become dangerously real.

7.4
Evelina Barrett was the legitimate daughter, yet she was framed for a disgusting sex scandal, expelled from the Ivy League, and locked out of her late mother's massive trust fund.
While she was thrown out to rot on the streets with a jagged, hideous red scar covering half her face, her father and step-family were throwing a lavish charity gala to celebrate her total ruin.
They laughed as they officially published her disownment notice in the Times to cut her off forever.
"Without the school halo, that ugly freak will be begging on the streets by tomorrow," her sister Aspen sneered.
Her stepmother Annabella toasted to taking out the trash, perfectly happy to steal Evelina's inheritance while ignoring the fact that Evelina knew exactly how they had murdered her mother.
For years, Evelina had been locked in a dark basement, abused by bodyguards, and treated worse than a stray dog.
Why should she, the true heir, suffer in the gutter while the leeches who destroyed her life enjoyed the wealth that rightfully belonged to her?
She refused to be their victim anymore.
Washing away her fake scar to reveal her true, breathtaking face, Evelina blackmailed New York's most lethal billionaire into marriage to secure the ultimate shield.
Then, she put on a black mourning dress, ordered a dark web ghost crew, and climbed into a heavy semi-truck.
At exactly 6:00 PM, she smashed through the iron gates of her family's elegant gala, delivering three pure black coffins directly to the lawn.

8.7
For seven years, I was Alpha Zane’s Chosen Mate, suppressing my warrior instincts to be the docile, supportive partner he demanded.
On our seventh anniversary, while I waited by a candlelit table, I accidentally overheard his mind-link with another woman.
"Seven years is a habit, my dear, not love. She's docile, she'll understand."
He told Seraphina, his new political ally, laughing as he dismissed my entire existence.
I didn't scream or cry. I scraped the anniversary cake into the trash, drafted a formal rejection letter, and walked out of the packhouse.
But Zane didn't even notice my departure. He was so consumed by his new lover that my rejection letter was treated as garbage and tossed into the incinerator.
He paraded Seraphina around the pack, even handing my hard-earned strategic command over to her—a woman who knew absolutely nothing about war.
When my loyal subordinates protested, he violently suppressed them, declaring my absence a "childish tantrum" and framing me as the bitter obstacle to his destined romance.
He honestly thought I was just hiding in my room, waiting to beg for his charity and accept a humiliating demotion.
He had no idea that I had already crossed the border into enemy territory.
Tonight, I am attending his grand celebration.
Not as the heartbroken mate he discarded, but as the newly appointed Gamma of his deadliest rival, the Sterling Pack.

9.7
Alya Harrell was the illegitimate daughter of a wealthy Long Island family, treated worse than a stray dog in her own home. Tonight, her family finally found a use for her.
Her stepmother and half-sister, Chloe, forced her into a scandalous, plunging red dress. They were offering her as a bargaining chip to Warren Thorne, a ruthless, sleazy hedge fund manager known for collecting and discarding young girls.
Just to ensure her absolute humiliation, Chloe intentionally "tripped" and spilled a glass of red wine all over the silk dress.
"Now you'll have to wear that hideous little black thing you own," Chloe sneered, leaving Alya to face the high-society dinner looking like a beggar.
When Alya tried to escape Thorne's groping hands, her own father hunted her down. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back, and raised his hand to strike her for embarrassing the family.
She was nothing but a pawn to them, a cheap product to be sold and abused for their financial gain. Alya's heart turned cold as she realized her blood relatives would gladly destroy her just to secure a lucrative business deal.
But when she was sent to the cellar to fetch a $50,000 vintage wine for their billionaire VIP guest, Alya caught her perfect sister hooking up with a personal trainer next to the priceless bottle.
Quietly stealing the vintage wine and burying it in the garden dirt, Alya returned to the ballroom with a dangerous smile.
"I think I saw Chloe carrying a bottle down to the cellar," she told her furious father and the VIP, leading them straight toward the trap that would completely ruin her sister's perfect life.

8.8
My little boy died on the operating table during a minor, routine surgery.
That exact same night, my billionaire husband bought out the Hudson River for a massive, million-dollar fireworks show.
It wasn't to mourn our child. It was to celebrate his first love's son being discharged from the hospital.
When I confronted him with our son's death certificate, he sneered and accused me of hiding the boy to get his attention.
He held his mistress in our home, watched her fake a panic attack, and threatened to bankrupt my family if I didn't get on my knees and apologize to her.
But the most horrifying truth came from a terrified hospital nurse.
My son's anesthesia was deliberately kept low during the procedure to keep his tissue viable to save the mistress's child.
He was awake and in agonizing pain while his own father planned a grand celebration for another man's son.
I couldn't understand how a father could be so completely heartless.
How could he sacrifice his own flesh and blood just to please a woman who constantly manipulated him?
Looking at the ashes on my son's favorite toy, my paralyzing grief evaporated, replaced by a cold, unyielding rage.
I arranged my little boy's funeral alone in the freezing rain, left my wedding ring on the counter, and walked straight into the private hotel suite of my husband's most ruthless business rival.
"Let's take him down," I said.











