Rejected by the Alpha, Claimed by the King

My mother, Joanna, is the Luna of the Silver Crescent Pack, the sole heiress of one of London’s most prestigious werewolf families. Recently, she’s been seen with Sylas, a Delta warrior and rising star in the pack’s entertainment sector. Videos of their encounters at luxury hotels have dominated the pack’s gossip circles, trending repeatedly on WolfNet, while my father, Yusuf, could only sulk at home, scowling as he folded laundry.

When the Luna finally returned to the packhouse, she tossed a divorce agreement onto the table. Her voice was cold and commanding, the kind that made even the strongest warriors lower their heads. “The five-year arrangement is up. You’re free to leave now.”

“Really?” Tears of relief filled Yusuf’s eyes. Overjoyed, he still made sure to pass on his household duties. He instructed Sylas, “Her clothes need this special detergent. It’s all yours from now on.”

So, off Yusuf went, leaving with a gleeful bounce in his step. It wasn’t until the next afternoon, as I was dismissed from the pack’s school, that I spotted him at the entrance, wearing sunglasses and a mask. He greeted me with two big kisses and apologized repeatedly.

“Sweetheart, I’m so sorry. I was just so thrilled to be free yesterday that I accidentally forgot to pick you up.”

Forgot? His own pup? I crossed my arms, turned away, and pouted, refusing to acknowledge him.

“There was something I was wondering,” Yusuf hesitated before finally asking, “After I left, did Sylas stay over at the packhouse?”

I nodded, correcting him earnestly: “Not ‘Sylas,’ it’s the handsome brother. He even made spiced honey cake for me this morning, and it was better than yours!”

His gaze dimmed, and his long lashes drooped like little fans. With a hint of sadness in his voice, he said, “I know you said that just to tease me, but it still makes me sad.”

No wonder the Luna claims he’s the master of playing the victim—anyone would feel sympathy. I was about to pat his head in comfort when he shifted gears and asked, “And... did Sylas share a room with the Luna?”

“Yusuf, don’t forget that the agreement clearly states: after the divorce, you can’t visit your pup without my permission.”

The Luna’s voice cut through the air from a short distance away, cold and unyielding, causing Yusuf to tense up. Gathering himself, he finally turned around.

In the gentle breeze, the Luna stood there in four-inch heels, her tailored pencil skirt perfectly accentuating her figure, her makeup exquisitely sharp and authoritative without a hint of anger.

Yusuf bravely attempted to resist, “But we’re not divorced yet. Even if we were, why can’t I see my own pup whenever I want? This is an outrageous clause...”

“Enough.”

Resistance was futile, and Yusuf wisely chose to remain silent.

The Luna bent down to pick me up, her previously sharp gaze softening instantly, full of affection and care.

“Sweetheart, did you have fun with your friends at school today? Are