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TASTE OF A BROKEN LUNA Novel Cover

TASTE OF A BROKEN LUNA

Betrayed by her mate and pack, Elara is cast out into a world of shadows, her heart shattered by the very people she vowed to protect. As a broken Luna, she must navigate the brutal reality of exile while uncovering a hidden strength that could reshape the werewolf hierarchy. Between pulse-pounding battles and a simmering new romance, Elara fights to reclaim her dignity. Will she succumb to her scars, or rise to exact justice on those who destroyed her life?
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Chapter 4

"What the hell took you so long?" Emily Parker's voice sliced through the heavy silence of the apartment as the lock clicked. She wasn't just my roommate; she was the only person who didn't look at me like a cracked piece of glass.

"Michael happened," Jess said, her voice like gravel. She tossed her keys onto the scarred wooden table. "Or rather, Vanessa Price happened to be riding him like a stolen motorcycle in his bedroom."

Emily’s jaw hit the floor. She dropped the magazine she’d been clutching—a glossy rag with Dominic Hale on the cover, looking every bit the Alpha star he was. "You’re joking. Tell me you’re joking, Jess. Michael? The 'perfect' future Pack Doctor?"

"I wish." Jess pulled the oversized hoodie tighter around her frame, hiding the black lace that felt like a shroud now. "I was in the closet. Literally. Saw the whole show. Every disgusting, knotted second of it."

"Oh, Jess. Fuck. What did you do?"

"I broke his nose. Then I left." Jess walked into the kitchen, her hands still trembling. "And then Dominic Hale picked me up from the sidewalk."

"Wait, back up." Emily followed her, her eyes wide. "The Northstar Alpha’s heir? The man who hasn't stepped foot in this pack's territory for two years? That Dominic?"

"He was in town for some shoot. Heard me crying on the phone—I dialed him by mistake, Em. I thought I was calling Jonathan." Jess leaned against the counter, the cool granite biting into her palms. "He hauled Michael off the ground like he was a bag of trash. He almost shifted right there on the street."

Emily whistled, leaning against the doorframe. "Well, if you're going to have an audience for your breakup, it might as well be the most powerful wolf in the country. Did he... you know... try anything?"

"He's an arrogant prick," Jess snapped, but her face flushed. The memory of his heat in the car, the way his scent had practically colonized her lungs, made her stomach do a slow, traitorous roll. "He told me I was finally single. Like I was a trophy he’d been waiting to bid on."

"He's always looked at you like that, Jess. Since we were kids." Emily picked up the magazine again, pointing at Dominic’s smoldering gaze. "Look at the glisten. The man is a literal thirst trap. He’s been your brothers’ best friend since forever, but the way he stares at you during pack runs? That isn't 'family friend' energy. That’s 'I want to claim you' energy."

"He was my first kiss, Em. You know this. Fourteen years old in a closet during seven minutes in heaven. He tasted like peppermint and trouble." Jess let out a jagged laugh. "Jonathan caught us before things got interesting, and Dom hasn't been able to look my brothers in the eye since. He’s a man-slut, anyway. He’s got a date tonight with some pop star."

"Yeah, well, he’s not here with her. He was with you."

The phone on the counter buzzed, a sharp, angry vibration. Jess looked down.

Michael: Jess, please. It was an accident. My wolf just took over.

Michael: I love you. Don't throw two years away because of one mistake. Answer me!

Michael: Fine! Be a bitch about it. See if any other wolf wants a girl who can't even grow fur.

"What an absolute piece of shit," Emily growled, reading over Jess's shoulder. "Block him. Now."

"Done." Jess swiped the screen, the finality of the action feeling like a punch to the gut. She walked into her bedroom and shut the door. She stripped off the hoodie, the lace underneath mocking her. She reached into her drawer and pulled out an old, faded jersey. It had 'HALE' printed across the back in bold, white letters. Dominic’s mother had sent it to her after his first pro game. It was soft, smelling of home and a safety she didn't feel anymore. She slid it on, the hem hitting mid-thigh.

"New hair, new Jess," Emily declared the next morning, dragging her toward the door. "You are not moping. Ethan Cole called. There’s a party tonight at the lake house. The whole circle is going to be there."

"I don't want to see my brothers, Em. They'll know. They always know."

"Then we make sure they're too busy looking at your new look to ask questions."

The salon was a blur of chemical smells and the snip of scissors. When Jess looked in the mirror, she didn't see the 'delicate' Whitman sister anymore. The sharp bob and the defiant glint in her eyes made her look like a wolf ready to hunt.

"Perfect," Emily whispered. "Now, let's go get wasted."

The lake house was thumping with bass by the time they arrived. The scent of cheap beer and shifting pheromones was thick. Ethan Cole, a soccer star whose leg was currently in a brace, hobbled over to them with a grin. He was one of the few who treated Jess like an equal, probably because he spent half his time sidelined by injuries himself.

"Whitman! You look dangerous," Ethan said, handing her a plastic cup. "I heard Reynolds is sporting a very crooked nose today. Care to comment?"

"He tripped," Jess said, taking a long pull of the lukewarm liquid. "Repeatedly. Into my fist."

"Atta girl." Ethan leaned in, his voice dropping. "Just a heads up, though. Your brothers are in the back. And they aren't alone."

Jess followed his gaze. In the corner, surrounded by a crowd of fawning omegas and aspiring warriors, sat Dominic Hale. He looked bored until his eyes found hers across the room. The air between them suddenly felt like it was charged with high-voltage electricity.

He stood up, ignoring the girl draped over his arm, and started walking toward her. Every wolf in the room went silent as the Alpha heir cut through the crowd like a shark through water.

"Jess," he said, his voice a low, possessive rumble.

"Dominic," she countered, her heart hammering against her ribs.

He reached out, his fingers brushing the new, sharp edge of her hair. "I told you. A queen."

But before she could respond, the front door burst open. Jonathan and Marcus stepped in, their eyes scanning the room. When they saw Dominic standing over their sister, their scents turned sharp and aggressive.

"Hale!" Jonathan roared, his knuckles cracking as he shifted partially, his claws peeking out. "Get your hands off my sister. Now!"

Dominic didn't flinch. He didn't even turn around. He just leaned closer to Jess, his breath hot against her ear. "Watch this."

"She's with me tonight, Whitman," Dominic said, finally turning to face her brothers, his eyes glowing a lethal, solid gold. "And if you want her back, you're going to have to go through me."

The room erupted into snarls. Jess looked at Dominic, then at her brothers. The "delicate" life she had known was officially over.

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