LUNAS REVENGE
Rejected By My Betrothed, Claimed By The Warlord Alpha
I was born a wolfless cripple in the Richmond Pack, but by royal decree, I was engaged to the kingdom's Champion Knight, Emory. During the winter banquet, my half-sister Dessie suddenly tilted backward into the royal ice pond, screaming that I pushed her. In my previous life, I reached out in panic to save her, only to be dragged down and framed for attempted murder. When Emory dove into the freezing water, he swam right past my sinking body to rescue her instead. Once ashore, my own father and my betrothed ignored my desperate pleas. They branded me a vicious, jealous traitor. Emory publicly broke our engagement to marry Dessie, while my father threw me to the executioner to wash away the family's shame with my blood. Until my head was on the chopping block, I didn't understand. Why did my own family want me dead just because I had no inner wolf? Why did the knight who swore to protect me conspire with my illegitimate sister to destroy my life? Opening my eyes again, I was back on the snow-dusted terrace, right as Dessie was setting up the exact same trap. "A wolfless cripple like you should crawl back to the gutter," she whispered, falling backward. This time, I didn't flinch or beg for help. Instead, my fingers shot out like iron clamps, grabbing her wrist, and I dragged her into the freezing depths with me.
Chapter 1
Kalea POV:
"Sister, Emory Lambert is destined to be mine," Dessie Richmond whispered, her voice a poisonous thread slipping through the frigid breeze of the Royal Lunar Garden. "A wolfless cripple like you should crawl back to the gutter where you belong."
Her amber eyes gleamed with malice.
Before I could even process the violent sting of the freezing air on my face, Dessie tilted her body backward, angling herself toward the black waters of the royal ice pond.
She was setting up the exact same trap from my past life.
She wanted the entire court to see her fall, to hear her screams, and to watch me take the blame for attempting to drown the favored younger daughter of the Richmond Pack.
In that past life, everything had favored her. I had screamed in panic and lunged to grab her, my fingers clamping hard around her wrist and leaving livid grip-bruises on her skin.
When we fell, I thrashed and begged Emory to save me, so when he swam straight past me to lift Dessie first, onlookers called it justice — the Champion saving the victim from her attacker.
The healers found my marks on her, and nothing of hers on me. That was enough for a charge of attempted murder.
Now, everything is different. The terrace is crowded with high-ranking nobles, and I know exactly where her nails will land.
I already saw through her act completely. I would play along — and turn her own trap against her.
I did not flinch. Instead, I calmly extended my left arm toward her, offering the loose silver-blue cuff at my wrist as if trying to catch her. Dessie, already falling backward to fake her accident, instinctively clawed out and seized my wrist hard to make it look real, her nails digging deep into my sleeve.
Dessie's smug grin instantly froze.
Her eyes widened in shock as she realized she had grabbed me first. Before she could let go, I stopped resisting. I leaned into her pull and let her own backward momentum drag us both off the marble edge together.
A chorus of shrill gasps erupted from the noble onlookers lining the snow-dusted terrace.
Then came the deafening crash of freezing water.
The shock of the sub-zero pond slammed into my chest, squeezing every drop of air from my lungs.
The weight of our velvet winter gowns pulled us straight into the dark depths.
Dessie thrashed wildly, her arms flailing like a dying bird as her silken skirts tangled around her legs.
Even as she thrashed, her right hand remained locked around my left wrist, her nails tearing frantically at my silk cuff.
Her mouth opened in a silent scream under the water, bubbles bursting around her terrified, contorted face.
Unlike my past self, I did not scream, did not beg, did not leave a single mark on her. I stared back at her through the murky blue, cold and completely still.
Pain tore through my limbs, but my mind was clearer than it had ever been in my two lifetimes.
Above the surface, muffled shouts vibrated through the water.
"Someone help! The Richmond ladies have fallen in!"
Through the rippling surface, a familiar silhouette tore off his heavy velvet cloak on the bank.
Emory Lambert.
The newly crowned Champion Knight of the Grand Royal Trials, and my betrothed.
He dove into the water with a clean, powerful slice.
His eyes scanned the depths, searching desperately.
He looked right past my sinking form.
Without a single glance in my direction, Emory swam furiously toward Dessie, wrapping his strong arms around her waist to haul her toward the light.
A bitter, silent laugh bubbled in my throat.
He was supposed to be my promised mate by royal decree, yet his body reacted purely on instinct to save my illegitimate half-sister.
I let my limbs go limp, allowing the darkness of the pond to drag me downward.
I needed this.
I needed every high-ranking noble on that terrace to see him choose her over me.
Darkness began to creep into the edges of my vision.
My lungs burned for oxygen.
Then, the water exploded behind me.
A massive shockwave ripped through the freezing depths, stirring a violent current that pushed the weeds aside.
A shadow moved with terrifying, predatory speed.
Before I could even register the beast-like force tearing through the water, a pair of scalding, calloused hands locked onto my waist.
The grip was unyielding, made of pure steel.
I was yanked violently against a broad, rock-hard chest.
Even submerged in ice, the overwhelming scent of crushing cedar and raw, wild musk flooded my senses, piercing straight through the freezing haze in my mind.
It was the aura of a dominant, top-tier Alpha.
Yet the moment his skin touched mine, the suffocating pressure of his command miraculously softened, wrapping around my freezing body like an invisible shield.
I forced my heavy eyelids open.
Through the distorted water, I looked directly into a pair of piercing, golden-amber wolf eyes.
Gaines Moss.
The notorious young lord of the Moss Pack, heir to the northern iron legions, and widely feared across the capital as an uncontrollable, violent rogue Alpha.
There was no cruelty in his gaze.
Only a dark, frantic intensity that bordered on madness.
The moment my wet shoulder pressed against his collarbone, a sharp, electric jolt surged from his palm straight down my spine.
My frozen muscles trembled beneath the sheer heat of his touch.
Gaines's jaw tightened.
His arm banded around my waist with possessive force, pulling me flush against him as his powerful legs kicked against the current, launching us toward the surface like an arrow.
On the other side of the pond, Emory was already breaking through the surface with Dessie clutched tightly against his chest.
The freezing air hit my face in a violent rush as Gaines hauled me out of the water, his long fingers instinctively cradling the back of my head to shield me from the jagged marble edge.
The deafening roar of the royal court swept over us in an instant.
No Longer Your Spare Part: The Luna's Revenge
The drill's whine was the only thing in my world, vibrating through my skull and drowning out my own screams. I was strapped to a cold metal table, paralyzed by wolfsbane, while surgeons bored into my hip bone to siphon my essence. "Just a little more," the surgeon muttered. "Isabella needs the boost for the wedding photos." They weren't saving my sister's life. They were harvesting my marrow just to make her skin glow for a picture. I looked at the observation window, begging with my eyes. Dante, the Alpha I had dragged from the jaws of death, stood there. He wasn't looking at me. He was holding Isabella's hand. He didn't know I was the one who healed him. He believed her lies. "Take it all if you have to," Dante's voice drifted through our fading mate bond. "Don't let her fade." The drill punched through. My heart stuttered and stopped. I died on that table, a hollowed-out husk used to feed my sister's vanity. "Seraphina! Are you deaf?" A sharp voice snapped me back into existence. I gasped, clutching my hip. No blood. No drill. No pain. I looked at the calendar on my father's desk. I was alive. And I had exactly one year before the surgery that killed me. I looked at my trembling hands and felt the ancient anger of my White Wolf stirring. I wasn't going to be the sacrifice this time. I was going to be the arsonist.
The Broken Luna's Revenge: Alpha's Regret
I was the anomaly. The Glover heiress who never shifted. To my fated mate, Alpha Bryant, I was lower than an Omega—I was his servant. When his mistress, Kalia, pushed me into the freezing lake, I screamed for him. I felt the mate bond pull, begging him to save me. But Bryant looked right at my flailing body, turned his back, and swam to save the woman who had pushed me. He didn't stop there. To "teach me submission," he locked me in a silver-coated cell that burned my skin like acid, all because Kalia lied about a stomach ache. He watched her burn my dead mother's journals. He let her slap me until I bled. He told me I was a genetic dead end, a defect that needed to be erased. I lay in the dark, my bones broken and my heart shattered, wondering why the Moon Goddess hated me. But she didn't hate me. She was preparing me. Bryant thought he had broken me. He didn't know that the man who pulled me from the water wasn't a rogue, but the Lycan King. And he certainly didn't expect me to walk into his gala, hand in hand with the King, and unleash the power of the White Wolf to burn his entire dynasty to the ground.
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