The Luna's Awakening: He Desired Me After Dumping Me

Moira's POV

By the time I step onto the foggy tarmac of the northern territory and walk down the stairs of the plane, every muscle inside me is already tense.

I turn on my phone and dozens of messages flood in-birthday wishes from packmates, distant cousins, and a few old friends. But from my mate, Jude, heir to the Northern Alpha? Not a single word.

What was I even expecting? Our marriage was a sham from the start. If I hadn't had that one-night stand with Jude-if I hadn't ended up pregnant with Mireille-he would have gotten rid of me without a second thought.

He hasn't hit me in the last seven years. He simply ignores me, as if I'm nothing more than a shadow in his house.

The familiar sting of disappointment rises in my chest. I swallow it down and step into the wide, candlelit hall of the Winters estate; it's already past midnight.

Mrs. Leah, our loyal housekeeper, an Omega who practically raised me, hurries over to greet me, surprise flickering across her face. "Luna Moira, what are you doing here? It's so late."

I force a tired smile. Only a handful of people even know I'm Luna; Leah is one of them. "Where's Jude? Where's Mireille?"

"Alpha Jude still hasn't come back. Mireille should be asleep in her room."

I nod, hand her my luggage, and go upstairs. The light in Mireille's room is still on. She's still not asleep this late? I frown and push the door open.

I see her sitting at her desk, golden hair spilling over her shoulders, completely absorbed in stringing polished stones and shells together-is she making a birthday gift for me?

"Mireille?" My voice comes out softer than I expected at the thought.

She turns around, blue eyes brimming with anger. "Mom! What are you doing here?" A bead rolls to a stop at my feet as she jumps up, scowling. "You scared me! You should be more polite-next time knock before you come in!"

I stare at my own hand, frozen halfway to her. I had meant to pull her into a hug. I haven't seen her in two months; I just wanted to tell her how much I missed her. But Mireille is busy scrambling to pick up her beads.

I swallow my hurt and help her re-string them. Her expression finally softens, but she still wants me gone. "Mom, I'm not finished yet! It has to be perfect."

"Why are you still making a necklace this late?" I ask, trying to sound casual.

She holds up a shimmering bead, pride glowing on her face. "This is for Aunt Bella. Her birthday is coming up. Dad says she should get the very best, and I think so too."

"Oh no! Aunt Bella's birthday is in just a few days! Mom, you can't forget! She's your sister!" She widens her little eyes at me.

Step-sister. The very daughter of the stepmother who ruined my mother.

I shouldn't burden