After My Alpha Abandoned Me for His Luna

The guards' grip on my arms was bruising as they dragged me through the winding corridors of the Black Moon Pack house. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a desperate prayer that this was some mistake. But the heavy oak doors of Alpha Zayden's private suite slamming open before me told a different story.

"Let her go," came the deep, commanding voice I knew all too well. The guards released me instantly, and I stumbled forward, catching myself against the ornate desk that dominated the room. Alpha Zayden stood by the window, his broad shoulders silhouetted against the fading light, while Gamma Dante secured the doors behind us with a decisive click that echoed like a death knell.

"Where is Luna Veronica?" Zayden's voice cut through the silence, his Alpha tone pressing against my chest like a physical weight. I struggled to breathe as his aura filled the room—pine and musk and something primal that made my knees weak. "What does she plan with those private meetings at the eastern border?"

I swallowed hard, my mind racing. Arleth needed her medicine. One missed payment would mean watching my sister fade a little more each day. "I... I don't know what you mean, Alpha. The Luna doesn't confide in me. I just fetch her things and—"

"Don't lie to me." The growl in his voice made me flinch. "You're closer to her than anyone. You know something."

Dante moved to stand beside him, his presence no less intimidating. "We know you're loyal, Cecilia. But you need to understand—this is bigger than just pack politics. If Veronica is planning something that threatens our security..." His voice softened slightly, but the threat remained.

I looked between them, these two men who held my life in their hands. "I've told you everything I know. The Luna meets with traders sometimes. She... she writes letters to someone named E—but I've never seen the full name. That's all. I swear it."

Zayden's eyes narrowed, searching my face for deception. "Not good enough. You're not leaving until we're satisfied you've told us everything."

The hours stretched endlessly as I sat rigid in one of the plush armchairs, my fingers twitching with the need to sketch. Finally, when I could bear it no longer, I reached for a scrap of the Alpha's heavy stationery on the desk and began to draw—the delicate neckline of Arleth's dress, the way the fabric would drape over her frail shoulders.

Footsteps made me look up. Dante had returned from what must have been a patrol. His eyes fell on my sketch, then to the materials scattered around me. Instead of anger at my presumption, something shifted in his expression.

"These are... remarkable," he said quietly, picking up one of the sketches. "You have real talent, Cecilia."

He crossed the room to an ornate chest in the corner and lifted the lid. My breath caught as he withdrew a bundle of silver-fox pelts—rare, expensive, and perfect for the trim of Arleth's