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When My Mate Crowned His Mistress Luna Novel Cover

When My Mate Crowned His Mistress Luna

The Alpha Suite smelled of him. Pine, rain, and the faint, musky scent of power that used to make my knees weak. Now, as I scrubbed the floorboards until my knuckles turned white, it just smelled like a lie. Three years. I had been Aiden’s fated mate for three years. The pack called it a long engagement; the whispers behind my back called it a charity case. Because I hadn’t shifted. Because my wolf was silent, buried deep under layers of trauma I couldn’t speak about. But Aiden had promised. He swore the Mating Ceremony would happen this week, that he would finally mark me and make me his Luna in front of the Silver Moon Pack.
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Chapter 4

The silence in the Recreation Hall was absolute. It wasn't the respectful quiet of a pack meeting; it was the stunned, suffocating silence of a car crash in slow motion. Aiden stared at me, his brow furrowed in confusion, like a dog trying to understand a magic trick.

"What did you say?" he asked, his voice low and dangerous.

I gripped the pool cue tighter, the smooth wood biting into my palm. The strange heat that had surged through me moments ago was still there, simmering just beneath my skin. It felt like liquid gold, heavy and restless. For the first time in three years, I didn't feel like shrinking away. I felt like striking.

"I said," I repeated, my voice steady despite the copper taste of blood in my mouth, "if I have nothing left to offer, then you have nothing to lose by betting against me."

Aiden let out a short, incredulous laugh. He looked around the room, inviting the pack to share in the joke. "Did you hear that? The charity case wants to gamble."

Annalise giggled, pressing her body against his arm. "Oh, let her, Aiden. It's pathetic. What is she going to bet? Her cleaning rags?"

"My inheritance," I said clearly. The words cut through the laughter like a knife.

Aiden stopped laughing. His eyes narrowed. He knew about the small trust my mother had left me—land, mostly. Useless to me as a rogue, but valuable to an Alpha looking to expand his territory. It was the only thing he hadn't been able to touch, protected by ironclad human laws until I turned twenty-one or was formally rejected.

"You'd bet your mother's land?" Aiden asked, a greedy glint sparking in his eyes. "On a game of pool? Against me?"

"One game," I said, stepping closer to the table. I ignored the way my heart hammered against my ribs. I had to sell this. I had to make them believe I was desperate, reckless. "Winner takes all."

"And what exactly do you think you're going to win, Willa?" Annalise sneered, fingering the moonstone necklace at her throat— *my* necklace. "You want your old room back? A few extra scraps from the table?"

I looked at her, then at Aiden. The heat in my veins pulsed, urging me on. "If I lose," I said, keeping my voice flat, "I sign over the land. I accept the rejection publicly, right here, right now. I leave the pack tonight as a rogue, and you never see me again."

A murmur went through the crowd. Becoming a rogue was a death sentence for a wolfless she-wolf. I was offering them my life.

"And if you win?" Aiden asked, his tone mocking. He didn't believe for a second that I could win. Why would he? He'd seen me scratch the cue ball five minutes ago. He'd seen me stumble drunk.

I took a breath, letting the gold fire in my blood steady me. "If I win," I said, locking eyes with him, "I want everything."

Aiden scoffed. "Define 'everything'."

"Your title," I said. The room gasped. "Your assets. And Annalise's dowry."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even the music seemed to have stopped. Aiden stared at me, his face going blank with shock. Then, slowly, a cruel smile spread across his face. It was the smile of a predator looking at a trapped rabbit.

"You want my Alpha title?" he whispered, stepping into my personal space. His aura flared, a heavy, suffocating weight meant to crush me into submission. "You think you can lead this pack? You?"

"I think," I said, fighting the urge to kneel under his pressure, "that if you're so confident I'm nothing, you shouldn't be afraid to take the bet."

"I'm not afraid of you, Willa," he spat. "I'm just wondering if you've finally lost your mind."

"Do it, Aiden," Annalise whispered urgently, her eyes gleaming with greed. She wasn't looking at me; she was calculating the value of my mother's land. "Think about the territory expansion. The council would have to respect that. And it's not like she can actually play. Did you see her earlier? She can barely stand up."

Aiden looked at her, then back at me. The greed was winning. I could see it. He wanted to humiliate me one last time, strip me of my last shred of dignity, and take my inheritance as a trophy.

"Fine," Aiden said, his voice booming so everyone could hear. "I accept. One game. Eight-ball. You lose, and you sign the papers tonight before I throw you out."

"Not just a handshake," I said, cutting him off before he could reach for a cue. "A Blood Oath."

The color drained from Beta Connor's face in the background. A Blood Oath wasn't just a promise. It was ancient magic, binding by the Moon Goddess herself. If you broke a Blood Oath, you didn't just lose your honor; you lost your wolf. Sometimes, you lost your life.

"You're serious," Aiden said, his amusement fading into something darker. "You want to bring the Goddess into this?"

"Are you scared, Alpha?" I asked softly.

Annalise let out a sharp laugh. "Scared of a wolfless cripple? Please. Aiden, make the oath. Let's finish this so we can celebrate properly."

Aiden's pride was his weakness. He couldn't back down now, not in front of the visiting dignitaries, not in front of his pack. He grabbed a ceremonial dagger from the wall display—a silver blade used for initiations.

"Give me your hand," he demanded.

I extended my left hand. He didn't hesitate. He sliced his palm, the bright red blood welling up instantly. Then he grabbed my hand and slashed the blade across my skin. The pain was sharp and hot, but I didn't flinch.

"I, Alpha Aiden Black, accept the challenge of Willa Snyder," he intoned, his voice heavy with power. "If she wins, she takes my title, my assets, and the Garcia dowry. If she loses, she yields her inheritance, accepts her rejection, and leaves as a rogue."

He squeezed my hand. Our blood mingled, hot and sticky. I felt a strange vibration in the air, a hum of power that made the hair on my arms stand up. The Moon Goddess was listening.

"I, Willa Snyder, accept," I whispered.

A flash of light, visible only to us, sparked where our hands met. The oath was sealed.

Aiden pulled his hand away, wiping the blood on his pants with a sneer. "Rack them up, Willa. Try not to embarrass yourself too badly."

I turned to the table. The balls were scattered from the previous game. I began to gather them, my movements slow and deliberate. My hand throbbed where he had cut me, but the wound was already knitting together. I could feel it. The skin pulling tight, the bleeding stopping.

My wolf stirred again, no longer whimpering. She was pacing in the back of my mind, a low growl vibrating through my entire body. *Show them,* she hissed. *Show them what we are.*

I placed the rack on the felt. I slotted the balls into the triangle—solid, stripe, solid, stripe. The eight-ball in the center. I lifted the rack away, the click of the balls settling together echoing in the silent room.

Aiden chalked his cue, grinning at Annalise. He looked so confident. So arrogant. He thought he had already won.

I picked up my cue. I didn't stumble this time. I didn't sway.

The heat in my blood surged, sharpening my vision. I looked at the table and I didn't just see balls and felt. I saw lines. Angles. Trajectories. I saw the geometry of his destruction laid out before me in perfect, glowing clarity.

"Ladies first," Aiden mocked, gesturing to the table.

I leaned over the table. My stance shifted. My back straightened, my grip firm. I wasn't the broken girl scrubbing floors anymore. I was the hunter.

I lined up the break. I took a breath, inhaling the scent of their doubt, their scorn.

*All in,* I thought.

And then I struck.

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