Marked as the Ruthless Alpha's Vengeful Luna

Elara POV

The consecrated presidential suite at The Pierre was supposed to be my sanctuary. The air was thick with the scent of lilies, myrrh, and a sharp, metallic tension meant to bless the Uniting Ceremony. Instead, it felt like a tomb.

The heavy mahogany doors, carved with the roaring black wolf crest of the Blackwood Pack, burst open. My Omega maid, Lila, stumbled in. The sour, pungent stench of her terror hit my nose before she even spoke.

"Miss Elara," she gasped, her hands trembling violently as she shoved an iPad toward me.

I looked down. It was a grainy, black-and-white photo posted on Julian Blackwood’s public social media, tagged at Charles de Gaulle Airport in Paris. In the center of the frame, Julian’s hand was tightly intertwined with another—a distinctly human hand, its nails painted a glossy red.

The caption beneath it read: *Fuck the chains. Chasing freedom.*

The iPad slipped from my fingers, hitting the moonstone vanity. Julian hadn't just run away from our arranged mating; he had publicly humiliated me, his Pack, and the Moon Goddess herself.

Before the reality of his betrayal could fully sink in, my father, Richard Vance, stormed into the room. The foul stench of rotting leaves and pure panic rolled off him in waves. He didn't look at me with pity. He looked at me like a failed investment.

"Where is he?!" Richard roared, his weak Alpha aura flaring uselessly. "If this ceremony fails, the Blackwoods will pull their protection! The Vance Pack will be wiped off the map by tomorrow night!"

"We'll be the laughingstock of the entire continent," my stepmother, Susan, wailed behind him, clutching her pearls. "We'll be demoted to Omegas! Or worse, left to the Rogues!"

A chilling numbness spread through my veins. To them, my shattered dignity meant nothing. I was just a broken sacrifice.

"We control the narrative," a cold voice interrupted. Anya, a high-ranking Blackwood official, stepped into the suite flanked by two massive Warriors. Her scent was sharp, like ozone before a strike. She looked at me with utter disdain. "We will announce that the wolfless Omega was deemed impure by the Moon Goddess at the last moment. Her body couldn't handle the Blackwood bloodline. The ceremony was canceled for her safety."

"No," I said, my voice surprisingly steady.

Anya’s eyes narrowed. "Excuse me?"

"If you blame a wolfless Omega," I met her icy glare, "you make your future Alpha look like a coward who couldn't even handle a weakling. It will ruin the Blackwood name just as much as ours."

Anya stiffened, realizing the truth in my words.

Desperation twisted my father's face. He lunged forward, his fingers digging painfully into my wrist. "You will get on a plane to Paris right now," he commanded, trying to force me into submission. "You will find him, and you will beg him to come back!"

The disgust I felt was physical. I yanked my arm out of his grip with a violent jerk. "Don't