The Betrayed Luna Claimed By The Lycan King
Isabella Hart was the faithful Luna of Shadowfang Pack and the gifted healer of the pack. Upon the death of the Alpha's ill mother that was under her care, Isabella anticipated grief. She did not expect betrayal.
Being accused of murder, rejected by her mate, and condemned by the council, Isabella has lost everything in one night. Her own closest friend even testified against her. Being taken to the dungeon when pregnant, the world of Isabella collapsed even more when she was informed that her baby was born dead.
But fate had other plans.
The night before her execution, Lucien, the Lycan king of rogues had raided the pack and captured her. Rather than killing her, he gave her a deal- assist him to destroy the Alpha that betrayed her and he would grant her the revenge that she deserved.
Together, Isabella and Lucien gradually destroyed Shadowfang pack. However, when secrets start to reveal themselves, Isabella finds out the truth regarding her child, her betrayal and the man she believed she knew.
She has now to choose who is her real enemy and who is the real owner of her heart.
Since the Lycan king did not simply take the Alpha Luna's.
He even might have stolen her destiny.
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Chapter 6
Isabella's POV
I didn't respond to him right away.
Between us lay the word revenge, still and enticing.
He was seated across from me, patient and quiet, as if he knew what I was thinking.
I tried to avert my gaze from him.
This was wrong.
This was all wrong.
Only a few hours ago I was a prisoner awaiting to be burnt alive. Now I'm in a warm room, talking to a Lycan king who says he's helping me kill my own pack.
It didn't add up to anyone.
"Do you think I can believe you? I finally said.
I was not as loud as I wanted to be, but it was not shaky.
Lucian didn't look offended.
In fact, he seemed like he was almost laughing.
"Don't expect my trust," he said in his calm tone. "Not yet."
I frowned slightly.
"Then what do you expect?" I asked.
That you hear," he said.
I instinctively raised my arms and covered them with my arms, as if to block out the dull pain that remained in my body.
"And why would I do that?" I asked.
Lucian sat back in his chair and his golden eyes never left mine.
"You can't go any other way."
He didn't sound aggressive.
It was matter-of-fact.
"You were found guilty of your crime and sentenced to death," he continued. "You would be ready to burn at sunrise if I hadn't taken you."
The pressure on my chest grew somewhat.
I didn't like the fact that he was right.
"Oh, no, you are no longer the Luna of Shadowfang Pack," he continued. "To them, you are a criminal."
I clenched my jaw.
I am innocent," I said, "I am innocent."
Lucian nodded once.
"I know."
I stopped short at that one.
"You know?" I repeated.
"Yes," he replied matter-of-factly.
My eyes tightened up a bit.
But how do you know that? I asked.
Lucian didn't reply right away.
Rather, he bent his body forward a little, placing his elbows on his knees.
"But I know what took place in the council hall," he said.
My heart skipped.
"You were called up on a dime," he went on. No warning and no preparation."
My fingers slowly tightened against my arms.
"The charges were brought on speedy basis," he continued. "Helena Blackwood was murdered, you were accused of it."
I stared at him.
He was still calm.
"They did use the herbs in your private garden as evidence," he added. "Hard to find, rare ones."
There was a coldness that passed through me.
How does he know that?
Lucian went on without a break.
Clara Wells intervened before you could defend yourself properly.
My breathing slowed.
"She has testified against you," he replied. "You said you were trying out a new drug on the Alpha's mother."
I felt a tightness in my chest once more.
Lucian's eyes turned a darker shade.
"And your mate... he added..."
My heart dropped.
"He said nothing."
The room was deathly quiet.
I looked at him, but couldn't talk for a while.
All the things he said were true.
Every detail.
"How can you know this?" I finally asked.
My voice was quieter now.
More cautious.
Lucian locked his eyes on me.
"Watch I do," he said simply.
The reply did not help any.
It made me uneasy.
"You were there?" I asked slowly.
No, not in the hall, he said. "But close enough."
My stomach twisted.
That meant he had been spying on the pack.
Observing me.
"For how long?" I asked.
Lucian didn't hesitate.
"Long enough."
It made my skin tingle when I heard that answer.
I didn't like that.
I didn't like it at all.
You think that I'm just supposed to believe that you were there? I asked.
He replied quietly, "No. "Your trial was never fair to you, I expect."
I froze.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Lucian leaned back again.
He said that was a decision that was made before he even set foot in that hall."
My heart began to beat rapidly.
"No," I replied reflexively, "that's not true."
As I said, though, my doubts seeped in.
Lucian gave the slightest nod of his head.
"You weren't allowed to provide evidence," he continued. "When you attempted to speak, you were cut off. And the only witness that they had depended on..."
His gaze sharpened.
"...he was the one who gained the most from your demise"
Clara.
My throat was constricted.
"That doesn't prove anything," I said, but not very confidently.
Lucian studied me for a while.
"Do you need some proof?" he said.
I focused my gaze back on his.
"You have proof?" I asked.
"I do," he replied.
There was a glimmer of hope in me.
Then let me see," I quickly said.
Lucian shook his head.
"Not yet."
My expression hardened.
"Why not?" I demanded.
"You're not ready to see it," he said coolly.
But that's not something you have to do, I snapped.
Lucian didn't take offense at my tone.
"Yes, it is," he said. "It's a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity; if you see it, you can't miss it."
I stared at him.
My heart was pounding once more.
What was he referring to?
You want answers," he went on. "You want the truth," said the old man.
"Yes," I replied right away.
Then you will hear first," he replied.
I hesitated.
My whole body was saying, "Beware.My whole body was telling me to be careful.
This was a man to be feared.
A Lycan king.
An assailant who attacked my pack with no trouble.
And yet...
Only he had answers for me.
Only one person who appeared to think I was innocent.
"No options," I said slowly.
Lucian nodded.
"That's right."
I took my gaze off of her for a moment.
If I were to leave this...
Where would I go?
I had no pack.
No protection.
No allies.
And I was still considered a criminal.
If I escaped I would be hunted anyway.
Captured again.
Killed.
I closed my eyes for a brief moment.
I opened them back up and gazed at him again.
"No, I'm not saying that I accept anything," I said firmly.
Lucian didn't interrupt.
"But..." I continued, "I'll listen to your plan."
That was as much as I could contribute.
For now.
Lucian nodded once.
"That is enough."
"Talking," I said, "let's get started."
Lucian didn't say anything for a couple of seconds.
His gaze didn't leave my face.
Then he spoke.
"When we talk about revenge," he said, "you have to realize what has been stolen from you."
My chest constricted a little.
I was angry, "I already know what has taken from me," I said. "My position. My mate. My child-"
"Do you?" he interrupted.
I froze.
His voice had gone all wrong.
It was sharper now.
More serious.
"What do you mean?" I asked.
Lucian bent his head forward slightly.
His golden eyes were fixed on mine.
"Well, let me tell you the truth about your child."
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8.5
"Oh. God, Eli, please! I'm not on the pills," I gasped, my fingers clawing at his shoulders.
"With a pussy as sweet as that?" he growled against my neck. "Jett was the loser. I'm not. I'm gonna fuck this pussy till the end. Afraid you're gonna have my child?"
My head dropped as a shudder ripped through me. "You're crazy!"
His voice dropped to a whisper. "You're mine now. My woman. And I'm gonna fuck you until this pretty body of yours only knows me."
---
Rowanne Steele thought she had it all. A perfect marriage to Jett Carter, heir to the Carter empire, and a future filled with love. But when Jett dies in a tragic car crash, her world shatters. Her mourning days aren't over, still clinging to his memory, drowning in grief and loyalty to the man she thought she knew.
Until one night, a hidden truth rises from his belongings and everything Rowanne believed about her husband was a lie.
Lost and heartbroken, she runs into the only arms that feel safe, Eli Carter, Jett's younger brother.
What begins as a moment of comfort in the rain turns into a mistake neither of them can forget. A mistake that feels far too much like fate.
Rowanne swears it can't happen again. Eli refuses to let go. Whether forbidden or not, he's determined to claim her. And this time, he won't lose.
9.6
Haylie waited nervously at the Wall Street charity gala for her boyfriend Bryan, but a spiked drink hit her hard, leaving her stumbling into a VIP lounge.
There, Chester Steele, the ruthless CEO of Steele Industrial, found her—drugged and vulnerable. What started as a frantic claiming in the shadows ended with him whispering she was his.
But moments later, a security alert shattered everything: data breach traced to Haylie's terminal. Chester's fury exploded. He saw her brush past a Logan Group rival on footage and dumped her in the rain, firing her as a corporate spy.
Bryan answered her desperate call with ice: "It's over." Reporters swarmed her door, branding her a traitor. Arrested at the office by FBI agents, she watched smug coworker Erin wave goodbye.
Thrown in a cell, chained and grilled with fake evidence—offshore accounts in her name—Haylie learned the worst: charges now included her sick father, Ernest, framed for laundering the leak money. Plead guilty or he dies in prison.
Innocent and raging, she couldn't fathom who planted it all—the gala bump, the logs, the forgeries. Why her? Who hated her enough to destroy her life?
Chester burst in, posting unlimited bail but forcing her signature on a slave contract: live in his penthouse, serve him 24/7. As she collapsed in his arms, trapped in his gilded cage, Haylie vowed silently—she'd uncover the real traitor and make them pay.
9.3
The first sign I was going to die wasn't the blizzard. It wasn't the bone-deep cold. It was the look in my fiancé's eyes when he told me he had given my life's work-our only guarantee of survival-to another woman.
"Kelsi was freezing," he said, as if I were being unreasonable. "You're the expert, you can handle it."
He then took my satellite phone, shoved me into a hastily dug snow pit, and left me to die.
His new girlfriend, Kelsi, appeared, wrapped snugly in my shimmering smart blanket. She smiled as she used my own ice axe to slash my suit, my last layer of protection against the storm.
"Stop being so dramatic," he told me, his voice full of contempt as I lay there freezing to death.
They thought they had taken everything. They thought they had won.
But they didn't know about the secret emergency beacon I had stitched into my sleeve. And with my last ounce of strength, I activated it.
8.3
Two sisters born with unimaginable power but only one is allowed to carry it-allowed to rule.
Naidira Thornton lives her entire life as a shame to her powerful parents-an alpha without a wolf, a daughter without her parents' favour, a mate left unclaimed. When she is banished for a crime she is innocent of and replaced by her own twin in a marriage built in lies, the pack believes the weaker sister has been erased.
They are wrong.
The secrets pile sky high till a perfect Luna's crown and an alpha's authority shatters under bloodshed and betrayal, Naidira returns and triggers a chain of events no one can stop. Bonds awaken, wolves arise.
Power was never taken from Naidira. It was buried.
And when it breaks free, nothing-family, throne, or fate-will survive unchanged.
9.8
The fluorescent hum of the DMV was the soundtrack to my boring life, until I tried to replace my lost driver's license.
"Your marital status. It says you're divorced," the clerk said, shattering my five-year marriage to Jackson Parks with a single, flat sentence.
My husband, Jackson, the man who swore he loved me, had secretly divorced me three years ago. Not only that, he had remarried the very next day to Candida Camacho, the woman who had tried to murder me on my wedding day and left me infertile. And they had a two-year-old son, Joey.
I stumbled home, my world a blur, only to find Jackson and Candida in our living room, arguing. "I hate having to pretend for that pathetic woman!" Candida shrieked. Jackson, my husband, pleaded, "I love you. I've always loved you."
The man I sacrificed everything for, who swore to destroy her, was now playing house with my attempted murderer, and I was the fool living in his house, sleeping in his bed, believing his lies.
The pain in my abdomen, a phantom ache from five years ago, flared to life, mirroring the gaping wound in my soul. I would not be his victim anymore.
"Hamilton," I said into the phone, my voice clear and steady. "I need your help. I need you to help me die."
8.4
After being kidnapped for years and finally rescued, five-year-old Izzy thought she was going home to her wealthy biological family.
But when the social worker brought her to the freezing bus station, her biological father, Conrad, didn't even get out of his Mercedes. He took one look at her tangled hair and worn-out shoes, his lip curling in disgust.
"I have a real family now. I'm not disrupting my life for this."
He drove away, leaving her choking on his exhaust fumes. When her rough, grease-stained uncle Bryan forcefully brought her to the family mansion, things only got worse. Her biological mother refused to touch her, complaining that she smelled like a dumpster. Her half-sister Katelynn pushed her to the ground, making her bleed, and framed her for stealing. Instead of helping, Conrad roared at Izzy, calling her a wild animal and threatening to throw her back onto the streets.
Izzy stood there shivering in her oversized rags, watching them stand together in a perfect, unbroken circle. She didn't understand why her own blood looked at her like she was a monster, or why they were so eager to throw a traumatized child back into the dark.
But what her wealthy family didn't know was that Izzy had a secret: she could hear plants talking. And the greenhouse orchids were screaming at their cruelty. So, she climbed onto their expensive coffee table, pointed at her mechanic uncle, and made her choice.
"I don't want Conrad to be my daddy. I want Uncle Bryan."
She walked out of that loveless mansion forever, ready to follow the whispers of an old apple tree in her new backyard—a tree that was about to guide her to a buried fortune of gold.