Ongoing · — reads

My Mate Stole My Child’s Life, So I Stole His Crown

On our sixth anniversary, I carried two gifts into Alpha Travis Wolfe’s Alpha office, a black velvet box with the keys to the Lamborghini Revuelto he’d been obsessing over, and a pregnancy test with two pink lines. Tonight, I wanted to give him everything: the car of his dreams, and the news that he’d be a father again. But the moment I stepped inside, my world shattered. Alpha Travis Wolfe wasn’t alone. Lorie Hale, my best friend, my daughter’s Luna-godmother, sat on his desk, blouse undone, lips swollen, his hand gripping her thigh. My wolf whimpered inside me, claws scraping against my skin, but the worst wasn’t what I saw; it was what I heard. Alpha Travis Wolfe’s phone rang. His irritated growl snapped through the room: “I paid you to keep quiet. I gave you the money so you’d give the heart to Lorie Hale, not Joan. Joan’s dead now.” The ground vanished beneath me. Joan, our little pup, was supposed to have her miracle. I signed the “alliance papers” Alpha Travis Wolfe gave me, trusting my mate. But he tricked me. My daughter’s heart hadn’t gone out to her. It had gone to Lorie Hale. When he ended the call, Lorie Hale smiled sweetly, brushing her fingers over his chest as if what I had just heard wasn’t enough to rip me in half. “I still can’t believe you did all that for me,” she whispered. “You really gave me her heart.” The betrayal tore me apart. My Alpha. My best friend. My pup’s murderer. And I had signed her death. So I packed my things and walked away, a quiet promise burning behind my teeth: I will make them ache for what they stole. A Luna’s hunt begins when her wolf is crushed, and she turns pain into blood.