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The Unwanted Runt Becomes The White Wolf Luna Novel Cover

The Unwanted Runt Becomes The White Wolf Luna

On my eighteenth birthday, I expected to find my Fated Mate. Instead, I found my executioner. I shifted for the first time, but my wolf was small and frail. Marcus, the future Alpha and the man I had secretly loved, looked down at me not with adoration, but with cold, clinical disgust. "A weak, scrawny Omega," he sneered, his voice echoing across the silent clearing. "You have no muscle. Your bloodline is nothing." He didn't just reject me; he humiliated me. "I, Marcus, reject you as my mate." The bond snapped, shattering my bones and my spirit. He banished me to the human city, leaving me to die in a freezing alleyway like unwanted refuse. For weeks, I lay in the mud, my body ravaged by fever and the agony of a severed soul tie. I accepted that I was worthless, a mistake made by the Moon Goddess. But just as the darkness threatened to swallow me whole, a pair of strong arms lifted me from the dirt. A stranger with eyes like obsidian fed me his blood and whispered a truth that changed everything. "You are not weak, Ellie," he growled, his power vibrating against my skin. "You are a White Wolf." I wasn't a runt. I was a legend. Now, fully healed and radiating power, I am returning to the pack that threw me away. Marcus is about to marry another, but when he sees me, he won't be looking at a reject. He will be looking at the biggest mistake of his life.
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Chapter 5

Ellie POV

The tension inside the Pack Hall was thick enough to choke on.

Every eye was fixed on me.

The same Omegas who used to shoulder-check me in the hallways now scurried to fetch me drinks, their gazes glued to the floor in terrifying submission.

We were ushered into the VIP guest suite, but even behind closed doors, we couldn't escape Marcus’s suffocating obsession.

Like clockwork, a servant arrived every hour with "tributes" from the Alpha.

Exquisite flowers. Heavy jewelry. Silk dresses.

"Burn them," David said, his voice dripping with disgust as he flung a diamond necklace onto the table.

"He's trying to win me back," I murmured, watching the delicate petals of a rose wilt under my cold stare. "He feels the echo of the bond. It isn't fully severed yet."

The next morning, craving the freedom of the open air, I headed to the training grounds.

I needed to run.

I let the change take me.

When the massive form of the White Wolf materialized, the entire training ground ground to a halt.

Sparring ceased. Warriors lowered their weapons, their instincts screaming at them to submit.

The sheer size and celestial majesty of my wolf form was undeniable proof of a bloodline they had foolishly rejected.

I ran a few laps, letting the wind whip through my fur, washing away the stale scent of the Pack Hall.

When I finally shifted back and reached for my towel, I found Chloe waiting for me.

She held a bottle of water out, her smile tight and brittle.

"You think you're so special," she hissed, pitching her voice low so only I could hear. "But you're still just trash wrapped in silk."

"And you," I replied, taking the bottle but making no move to drink, "smell like desperation. And... something else."

I flared my nostrils, inhaling deeply.

Underneath her cloying, expensive perfume, there was a sharp, chemical tang. It was faint, but my enhanced senses picked it apart instantly.

"Is that... Wolfsbane masking agent?" I asked, tilting my head. "Why would you need to mask your natural scent, Chloe?"

Her eyes darted sideways, panic flickering in them. "You're crazy."

Suddenly, she lunged.

Feigning a stumble, she tried to splash the contents of the bottle onto my face.

I sidestepped with supernatural ease.

The liquid splashed onto the grass where I had stood a split second before.

Immediately, the earth hissed.

Smoke curled up as the green blades turned black and disintegrated in seconds.

Acid. Silver-laced acid.

Gasps rippled through the nearby warriors.

"She tried to attack me!" Chloe shrieked, throwing herself onto the ground in a practiced performance of victimhood. "Help! The outsider is attacking me!"

The doors to the Alpha office burst open, and Marcus came running.

"What is the meaning of this?" he roared.

"She attacked me!" Chloe sobbed, pointing a trembling finger.

David was at my side in a heartbeat.

He didn't shout. He didn't posture.

He simply walked over to the patch of smoking, dead earth.

"An interesting accusation," David said, his voice calm and deadly. He pointed to the blackened scar on the ground. "Since when does water burn the earth, Alpha Marcus?"

Marcus looked at the grass, then at Chloe.

"It was her!" Chloe stammered, her face pale. "She... she did magic!"

"I am a White Wolf," I said, my voice ringing out across the training grounds, commanding absolute silence. "I heal. I do not use poison. That is a coward's weapon."

I took a step toward Chloe.

She scrambled backward on her hands and knees like a frightened crab.

"You have been using a scent masker," I announced, letting the truth hang in the air. "To hide the fact that you aren't Marcus's mate at all. You've been faking the scent with illegal potions bought from Rogues."

The crowd erupted into shocked murmurs.

"That's a lie!" Chloe shrieked, her voice cracking.

"Is it?" I turned my gaze to Elder Richard, the pack's moral compass. "Elder, check her quarters. Check her father's office."

Elder Richard nodded grimly, his face hard. "I will do so immediately."

Marcus turned to me.

He didn't even glance at Chloe. He didn't care about the attempted murder or the deception.

He was staring at me with a hunger that made my skin crawl.

"Ellie," he said, stepping over the smoking grass as if it didn't exist. "Come back to me. I made a mistake. I can fix it. I'll make you the Luna. I'll banish Chloe right now."

He reached for my hand.

I pulled back sharply.

"You think you can just swap us out like furniture?"

"We are Fated!" Marcus insisted, desperation clawing at his voice. "The bond... I feel it burning me. Don't you feel it?"

"I feel nothing for you," I lied smoothly.

I felt pity, and a ghost of the old pain, but love? That was dead.

"I will prove it," Marcus said, his eyes wild with manic hope. "Tomorrow is the Coronation Ceremony. I was supposed to crown Chloe. But I will crown you instead. We will complete the ritual properly."

I looked at David.

He gave me a subtle, almost imperceptible nod.

"Okay," I said softly.

"Let's have a ceremony."

Marcus grinned—a triumphant, arrogant expression that twisted his handsome face.

He thought he had won.

He thought the power and the title were all I ever wanted.

He had no idea that I wasn't here to be crowned.

I was here to be the executioner of our past.

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