Luna's Rise After Rejection

The takeout bag crinkled in my hands as I climbed the stairs to Luke's apartment, my heart hammering with anticipation. Seven years. Seven beautiful, devoted years, and tonight would finally be the night he marked me as his Luna. I'd spent hours preparing his favorite meal from Romano's, the little Italian place where we'd had our first date back in college.

Seraphina, my wolf, practically purred with excitement in my mind. *Tonight, we become whole,* she whispered, her voice warm with love and certainty.

I fumbled with my key, trying to balance the food while my hands trembled with nervous energy. The apartment was dimmer than usual, only the bedroom light casting a soft glow down the hallway. Maybe Luke was already waiting for me, maybe he'd prepared something romantic—

The sound hit me first. A low moan, feminine and breathless, followed by Luke's familiar groan of pleasure. My blood turned to ice.

*No.* Seraphina's voice cracked in my mind. *No, that's not... that can't be...*

But my feet carried me forward anyway, drawn by some horrible, masochistic need to see the truth with my own eyes. The bedroom door stood slightly ajar, and through the gap, I saw them.

Luke's broad back, muscles flexing as he moved above a woman with long blonde hair spread across my pillow—the pillow I'd left here just this morning. Her legs wrapped around his waist, her head thrown back in ecstasy, and there, glinting against her throat, was the delicate silver necklace Luke had given me for our sixth anniversary. My necklace. On her neck.

Tiffany.

My best friend since childhood. My maid of honor at the wedding I'd dreamed about. The woman who'd helped me pick out the lingerie I'd planned to wear tonight.

The takeout bag slipped from my numb fingers, containers crashing to the floor with a sound like thunder. Both heads snapped toward the doorway, and I found myself staring into Luke's startled blue eyes—the same eyes that had whispered promises of forever just yesterday.

"Sloane." His voice was hoarse, breathless. "I... this isn't..."

"What it looks like?" The words scraped out of my throat like broken glass. "Really? Because it looks like my fated mate is fucking my best friend in our bed."

Tiffany had the audacity to smirk as she pulled the sheet up to cover herself, her fingers deliberately touching my necklace. "Oh honey, did you really think Luke would be satisfied with someone so... predictable forever?"

Seraphina howled in my mind, a sound of pure anguish that made my knees buckle. The mate bond—that golden thread I'd felt connecting us since we were eighteen—began to fray at the edges, sending shockwaves of pain through my chest.

Luke climbed off the bed, not bothering to cover himself as he faced me. The man I'd loved for seven years, the future Alpha I'd planned to stand beside, looked at me with something I'd never seen before: cold indifference.

"Sloane, we need to talk."

"Talk?" I laughed, the