The Alpha Claimed His Luna's Killer

The Alpha King’s family was condemned, their entire pack executed.

The newborn heir, Ambrose Collins, was spared due to his age, and I was assigned as his caretaker.

For eighteen years in the exile lands, I raised him, and in gratitude, he chose me as his mate.

That same year, the Alpha King’s name was cleared, and Ambrose was restored to his rightful position as the Lycan King.

The pack’s council urged him to take Angelica Burke, the daughter of the Beta, as his Luna.

But Ambrose insisted on bringing me, his mate, back to the pack’s territory.

Yet, misfortune struck, and I died on the journey to the capital.

Before my spirit could even pass, Ambrose hastily wed Angelica and crowned her Luna.

From then on, everyone whispered that the Lycan King seemed like a different man.

---

Angelica had someone lace the ceremonial mate wine with a potent drug.

Her loyal Omega, Savannah Clark, couldn’t help but ask, “My Queen, why go to such lengths? Tonight is your marking ceremony. The King wouldn’t dare slight you, especially with the Burke family’s standing.”

Angelica, dressed in her ceremonial robes, sat on the ceremonial bed, a smug smile playing on her lips. “You don’t understand.

“The King may not slight me tonight, but to ensure I conceive quickly, I need to take matters into my own hands.

“With this, the King will have no choice but to comply.”

She suddenly looked up, her eyes meeting mine as I floated in the air.

I froze, startled.

But then I remembered.

I was dead. Angelica couldn’t see me.

“Besides,” she continued, “that lowly Omega only just died, and before her spirit could pass, the King crowned me Luna. It still feels... uncertain.”

The “lowly Omega” she spoke of was me.

Days ago, when she intercepted my journey to the capital, she had called me the same.

“You’re from a rogue pack, a mere Omega. How could you ever be Luna?

“If you leave now and swear never to return to the capital, I might spare your life.”

The moment I met Angelica, I knew trouble was brewing.

When she offered me a chance to live, I truly thought I could survive.

I begged and swore, but she betrayed her word.

“My Queen, the King is here,” a servant announced, and Angelica’s demeanor shifted instantly.

She stood, her posture elegant, her voice soft and demure, a stark contrast to her earlier tone.

I watched as Ambrose entered, his presence commanding, his aura powerful.

He helped her rise, his touch gentle.

Angelica stared up at him, her breath catching.

Ambrose, now the Lycan King, was no longer the scruffy heir I had known in the exile lands. His face was clean, his features sharp and striking. No wonder Angelica was captivated.

But back in the exile lands, his beauty had brought us nothing but trouble.

In a place like that, there were countless who coveted him.

He once considered disfiguring himself to spare me