The Luna Who Defied Her Beta’s Rejection

On the day I turned eighteen, I was kidnapped.

The kidnappers contacted Beta Finn Hernandez, heir to the Hernandez pack, and demanded a ransom of six million dollars.

"You're the Beta of one of the most powerful packs, Finn. Surely you'd pay six million to get your pretty mate back, right? Such a beautiful girl, it'd be a shame if she ended up as a tragic loss."

I was lying there with a dislocated shoulder, crying and pleading with Finn over the phone to rescue me. But he replied coldly, “Why is she worth six million?”

Furious, the kidnappers broke three of my fingers. It meant I'd never play my beloved piano again—a dream that had once been my only solace in the rigid hierarchy of the Lane pack.

Later, when I crossed paths with him again, I addressed him formally, "Beta Hernandez." He cornered me in a room and, with the lightest touch on my face, softly asked, “Ivy, be a dear and call me Finn like old times, okay?”

---

"Ivy, we're in New York."

The plane landed with a slight jolt, and the nightmare seemed to draw me in again until my assistant’s timely call grounded me. I'd dreamt of those terrifying events from six years back once more. Fear, confusion, and helplessness welled up inside me, bringing tears to my eyes.

New York. A city of bright lights and allure, but also cold and calculated. I wouldn't have returned if it weren't for helping Gamma Heath Forrester secure backing for his new movie. As a Gamma in the Lane pack’s entertainment division, it was my duty, even if the memories of this city haunted me.

After leaving the airport, the car my assistant had arranged didn't show up. I was about to hail a taxi when I heard a hesitant voice behind me:

“Gamma Lane?”

I turned around and froze. It was Uncle Lee, the chauffeur who had driven Finn around since he was fifteen. Behind him was a Rolls-Royce Phantom. I recognized the familiar license plate: 1108. Finn’s birthday. My heart skipped a beat.

The car window slowly glided down, unveiling that familiar, almost ethereal face.

“Ivy?”

Finn sat inside, the top buttons of his shirt undone, revealing a perfectly sculpted collarbone. The aggressive side of him from six years ago had evolved into a serene, icy depth. His dark, intense eyes beneath sharply defined brows were unchanged. Even after six years, he still resembled a picturesque watercolor. Yet, his presence sent chills through me.

I never anticipated running into him on such a seemingly regular afternoon.

“You're back?”

His expression was flawlessly courteous and natural, as if I’d simply been away on a brief trip. It seemed he had forgotten that six years ago, I was locked in a cold, damp shack, my arms dislocated, crying out for him to save me.

But he responded to the kidnappers with the same detachment, “Why is she worth six million? A mate? You're mistaken. I wouldn't