Rejected Luna's Feral Auction

The night of our marking ceremony, my mate, Alpha Harlan Mills, threw me out of our chamber.

He claimed he had an aversion to scents, and from that day forward, he imposed a rule: I had to scrub myself daily with a harsh medicinal solution before I was allowed near him.

Five years passed, and my skin became raw and blistered, not a single patch untouched by the painful burns.

One night, he returned drunk and pulled me into the chamber, pressing me onto the bed with a force I hadn’t felt in years.

I froze, tears welling in my eyes, thinking maybe, just maybe, the nightmare was over.

But at the last moment, he kicked me off the bed with a disgusted sneer.

Three days later, I discovered my name on a plaque at the Moonlight Lounge, a notorious gathering spot for high-ranking werewolves.

My first night was being auctioned off to the highest bidder.

“I heard she was clinging to you that night,” someone jeered.

“Alpha Harlan, you’re truly something, staying loyal to Robin even when she threw herself at you. Hilarious that Felicity actually believed your scent aversion was real.”

Harlan wiped his skin with alcohol, his cold eyes reflecting nothing but disdain.

“She’s desperate. If I hadn’t come to my senses, she would’ve tainted me. I’m saving myself for Robin—I can’t let her ruin that.”

The room erupted in cruel laughter.

“Alpha, you’re too good. She’s clearly starved for attention. Let us take care of her.”

“Three days of heat-inducing herbs, and she’ll be begging. Can’t wait to see her lose control.”

My heart sank as their laughter echoed in my ears.

That night, I wrote to Luna Judith Mills, Harlan’s grandmother and the pack’s matriarch.

“Does our agreement still stand? I want out.”

---

My claws dug into my palms, my head spinning as I struggled to stand.

Five years. Five years of my life, wasted on a lie.

Harlan’s so-called scent aversion was nothing more than an excuse to stay loyal to his chosen mate, Robin Sullivan.

And I, foolishly, had believed him.

I had even been planning a surprise for his birthday.

The Moonlight Lounge was the most exclusive spot in the city, known for its elite clientele.

Leilani Ortiz, their renowned healer, was said to have techniques that could soothe even the worst pains.

Harlan had suffered a back injury during a pack skirmish, and the pain flared up during rainy seasons.

To help him, I, a respectable Luna, had disguised myself to learn her techniques.

But instead of gratitude, I found myself hearing the ugliest truth.

I was a fool. I should’ve seen it sooner.

Harlan and I had grown up together, our families even arranging a mate bond when we were young.

But after my father died in a pack war, my family’s status crumbled, and I was left as nothing more than the orphaned daughter of a fallen warrior.

I thought the mate bond was just a formality, something