The Alpha's Barren Luna: Erasing The Mate Bond
I was the Weaver, the only wolf capable of knitting the spiritual wards that protected our billion-dollar empire. But to my husband, the Alpha, I was just a piece of malfunctioning tech.
Ten years ago, I crushed my spine and destroyed my womb pulling him from a burning car. Now, because I couldn't give him an heir, he treated me like a ghost in his own home.
The breaking point wasn't the affair. It was seeing Brendan, the man who once told me "Alphas do not kneel," drop to one knee on a public sidewalk to tie his pregnant mistress's sneaker.
He touched her stomach with a reverence he had never shown me.
That night, his mistress sent me a video of them together, captioning it: He's painting the sky for our son. What did he paint for you? Nothing. Because you're barren.
I realized then that a divorce wouldn't free me. He would never release his most valuable asset. The Mate Bond was a chain, and as long as my wolf lived, I was his prisoner.
I didn't want his money. I didn't want an apology. I wanted total erasure.
So, I bought a forbidden potion called Tabula Rasa. It doesn't just wipe your memory; it dissolves the wolf spirit with acid and severs the soul-tie.
I rigged the estate's defense wards to self-destruct, melted my Luna ring into a lump of slag, and drank the poison.
When Brendan finally rushed home, terrified by the collapsing wards, he found me standing over the shattered vial.
He screamed my name, trying to use the Alpha Command to make me submit.
But I just looked at this weeping stranger with calm, human eyes and asked, "Who are you?"
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Chapter 5
Ellery POV:
Fireworks tore the sky apart in red, white, and blue.
The Gala was in full swing on the lawn. Waiters, champagne, the elite of the werewolf world pretending to be civilized.
I stood on the balcony in a beige dress. Camouflage. Just like Brendan liked.
The crowd parted.
Kiya arrived.
She wasn't wearing beige. She was in white, a Grecian gown that clung to her. She held her stomach like it was a trophy.
A slap in the face to every werewolf tradition.
Brendan moved toward her. He didn't look ashamed. He looked... proud.
I turned away and slipped down to the lake.
The boat house was dark and quiet. I stepped inside to breathe.
Voices on the dock.
"She looked like a ghost up there," Kiya sneered. "A beige ghost."
"Keep it down," Brendan hissed. No bite in his tone.
"Why? Everyone knows, Brendan. She's a Barren She-Wolf. A genetic dead end."
The word Barren cut like a serrated knife.
"She is useful, Kiya," Brendan said.
"Useful? She's a glorified alarm system! I am carrying your son. Your Alpha Heir. She is... what? A broken toy?"
"She is the facade," Brendan said wearily. "We need her for the Council. We need her for the wards. She is a necessary inconvenience. Once the pup is born... I'll move her to the North Wing. You take the master suite."
My wolf didn't growl. She let out a death rattle.
Right there in the dark, she laid her head on her paws and gave up.
He rejected us, she whispered. With truth.
I pulled out my phone.
To: Evans
Message: Tonight.
I dropped the phone in the trash.
I walked out, staying downwind.
I watched Brendan place his hand on Kiya's stomach. He looked reverent.
I touched my own flat, scarred stomach.
"Goodbye, Brendan."
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9.0
The pregnancy test trembled in my hand as I stood in Gabriel's marble bathroom, the morning light filtering through frosted glass windows. I'd done this ritual eight times before, each ending in heartbreak, but hope was a stubborn thing. My breath caught as two pink lines appeared, unmistakable against the white plastic. "Nine," I whispered, pressing a hand to my still-flat stomach. "Please stay with me this time."
I slid the test into my robe pocket and splashed cold water on my face, studying my reflection. Dark circles shadowed my eyes—evidence of nights spent wondering if I'd ever be enough for Gabriel. At twenty-four, I looked both younger and older than my age: younger in my need for approval, older in the weariness that clung to me like a second skin. The bathroom door handle turned slightly. I quickly tucked the test deeper into my pocket. "Isabella?" Gabriel's voice, cool and measured, came through the door.
8.5
For five years I played the perfect Spencer wife—diamonds, galas, a husband the whole city envied. They called our marriage a fairytale. They didn't know I'd married Rayan to clear my family's debt and "luck" him out of a coma after the accident he got chasing the woman he actually loved.
So on our fifth anniversary, in front of every important name in Riverside, I took the mic and announced my own divorce party. Because the second his phone rang, he walked out on me—again—straight to her.
What Rayan doesn't know: I'm done crying. I have a way out he can't buy back, a home he doesn't know I'm going to, and a version of me he's never met—sharp-tongued, unbothered, finally free. His precious Elina spent three months clawing her way back into his life. She's about to learn exactly what she crawled back to.
Watch the unshakeable Rayan Spencer go from "Are you serious?" to circling hospital parking lots in the rain, begging for a wife who's already signed the papers in her head. He had five years to choose me. Now it's my turn to choose myself—and let him find out what it costs to come second to no one.
This time, he chases. This time, I axe the vows.
9.4
Bella's mental age froze at 3 after saving Ethan from a crash; he married her but later cheated with Sophia . Bella recovered mentally but hid it after seeing Ethan with Sophia. Ethan lied he saw her as "family," while Sophia sabotaged Bella .
Bella planned to leave, but Ethan locked her up and even let a fire trap her.
Ethan realized Bella's gone, found her letter, and spiraled.
He abandoned his wedding to find Bella, only to see her with Sean.
7.8
"I didn't want a fake fiancée. I wanted my fated mate. ... She just thought I was a 'bad boy' actor she hired... Fine. I’ll play her game. But once the clock strikes midnight on Black Friday? The contract ends. And the mating season begins. She thinks she rented me for the weekend. She has no idea she just agreed to be my Queen forever."
9.4
Dorene survived a terrifying night with a bleeding, dangerous intruder in her hotel penthouse, only to receive a far more devastating blow the next morning.
A black and gold envelope arrived. It was an engagement invitation. Her boyfriend of seven years, Kadyn, was marrying her sweet, innocent best friend, Dolly.
Refusing to hide, Dorene crashed the gala in a blood-red gown. But Dolly was ready. Grabbing Dorene's wrists, Dolly purposely threw herself backward into a tower of champagne glasses, shrieking about her stomach and her unborn baby.
"If anything happens to Dolly or my child, I swear to God, I will destroy you!"
Kadyn roared, holding the weeping Dolly in the broken glass. He didn't ask a single question. He branded Dorene a jealous monster. To completely break her dignity, he publicly handed her over to the city's most notorious, sleazy playboy just to appease Dolly's fake tears.
"Give him a shot," Kadyn told her coldly.
Seven years of love were ground into the marble floor. She was framed, publicly humiliated, and discarded like trash by the two people she trusted most.
Dorene didn't shed a single tear. She gave them a smile of pure, freezing mockery and walked out of the gilded cage into the freezing Manhattan night. She didn't know that as she left, the lethal, blood-stained man from her penthouse was watching from the shadows, ready to help her burn their world to the ground.
7.3
Aliyah Pollard POV:
For six years, my husband, Chase, refused to divorce me, gaslighting me while he built a new family with his mistress, Faye. After 99 failed attempts, I was ready for my 100th try.
But the man I met in the park wasn't my cold, cheating husband. It was Chase from ten years ago-eighteen, idealistic, and still madly in love with me.
He didn't understand why I looked so sad, why I flinched from his touch. He didn't know about the affair, the miscarriage Faye caused, or the child they now had together.
He saw the divorce papers and his world shattered. "I would never hurt you, Aliyah," he cried, his young eyes filled with genuine anguish. "I love you."
His pain was a stark contrast to the cruelty of the man he would become. The older Chase had sneered, "You're mine, Aliyah. Who would want you?"
But this boy, this pure version of my husband, saw my suffering and didn't hesitate.
He took the pen, his hand shaking, and signed the papers his future self had refused for years. "If this is what you need," he whispered, "I'll do it."