The Abandoned Luna Is the Queen of the Abyss

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miao

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Summary

The day my Alpha mate Adrian returned from the border, he was carrying a woman in his arms. She looked exactly like me. Even the missing pinky finger on her left hand—identical to mine. Except she'd lost hers protecting him. I'd lost mine because he ordered someone to cut it off with a dagger. He said her name was Liliana. That she was his true fated mate. And I—the woman who'd served as his Luna for five years—was nobody to him. Later, he wanted to drain my healing power. Trade my life for hers. No one asked if I was willing. I walked alone to the edge of the Abyss cliffs and threw myself over. Everyone assumed I was dead. I wasn't. When I woke, I learned what had truly awakened inside me. I was never a weak Omega. I carry the royal bloodline of the Abyss. I am the true Queen of these depths. Two months later, I led the Abyss wolf clan through the gates of the Silvercrown tribe. What they owe me, I intend to collect. Every last piece.

LunaWerewolfAlphaheirExRevengeCheatrejected

Chapter 1

The day my Alpha mate Adrian returned from the border, he was carrying a woman in his arms.

He spoke to the gathered tribe, voice shaking with emotion: "Five years. I've finally found her."

I clutched the fabric at my wrists, heart climbing into my throat.

The woman in his arms looked almost exactly like me.

No—not almost. Exactly like me.

Even her left hand was missing a pinky finger.

Without thinking, I curled my own left hand. My pinky was gone too. A clean, even stump.

Behind me, the crowd stirred. Low murmurs. Craned necks.

"Who is she?" I stepped back involuntarily.

Adrian stood before me and spoke the cruelest words: "This is Liliana. My fated mate. Five years ago, during the Blood Moon War, she fell into the Abyss protecting me."

"She survived." He gazed down at the pale-faced woman in his arms with infinite tenderness. "She spent five years recovering in the Abyss. Two days ago, she made her way to the border alone and found me."

The crowd erupted.

Liliana.

The name had haunted me like a ghost—woven into every glance Adrian had ever given me.

I knew who she was. I knew all too well.

When Adrian first brought me out of the Abyss to the Silvercrown tribe, the very first thing he did was bring me before the healer. He had the healer study my face from every angle, then turn my hands over and over. His gaze stopped on my left hand—five fingers, slender and whole.

He said: "Not close enough. Liliana's pinky is missing."

I didn't understand.

Not until the healer produced a dagger and severed my pinky at the root.

Then I understood.

My body convulsed. Reflexive tears flooded my eyes. Before I could cry out, I heard Adrian beside me: "Liliana is fierce-tempered. She never cries."

The healer brought out a bowl of black tincture and a long silver needle.

Scarsbane herb combined with a sealing incantation. A permanent seal on my tear ducts.

From that day forward, I never shed another tear.

And now.

Adrian lowered Liliana gently onto the bed, handling her as though she were made of glass.

Liliana looked up at him. Those eyes—identical to mine—brimming with tears.

She cried.

Tears spilled from her eyes and fell onto Adrian's arm.

I watched them fall, and something inside me ached with envy.

Without thinking, I reached out—wanting to catch a teardrop before it fell.

Liliana's face went cold.

She turned her head, and her gaze struck me like a poisoned arrow—sharp, guarded, openly hostile.

"Who is she?" The question was directed at Adrian.

The crowd fell silent. Eyes darted between us.

A long pause.

Then he spoke.

"Nobody important."

I lowered my outstretched hand.

The night before he'd left for the border, we'd spent hours tangled together. His scent was all over me. He'd nipped at my neck and whispered: "When I get back, give me a pup. What do you say?"

I was his rightful mate. His Luna.

And now, in front of Liliana and the entire tribe, he called me nobody important.

My left hand trembled. I wanted desperately to cry, but I'd lost the ability to produce tears.