The Suppressed Luna: Awakening the Royal Blood

For three years, I swallowed bitter suppressant pills every morning. I dimmed my light and hid my identity as the Alpha King's daughter, all to be the perfect, submissive Luna for Santino.

I thought love was enough. I was wrong.

Santino brought a pregnant Rogue woman into our Pack House, claiming she carried his late Beta's child. But the way he touched her, the way he let her wear his shirt and sit at the head of my table, screamed the truth.

When I demanded respect, he didn't apologize.

He slapped me.

The strike echoed through the room, shattering the last of my restraint. He looked down at me with disdain, mocking me as a weak female with no family and no power. He even gave my dead mother's heirloom necklace to his mistress, watching as she broke it.

"You are nothing without my protection," he spat.

He truly believed I was a helpless Omega. He had no idea he was standing on land bought with my dowry, protected by Wards tied to my blood.

I wiped the blood from my lip. My eyes shifted from soft brown to a terrifying, glowing silver.

I reached out through the ancient mind-link he didn't know I possessed.

"Damien," I commanded the Royal Guard waiting in the shadows. "Destroy it all."

Santino wanted a war? I would give him an apocalypse.

Chapter 1

Alessia POV:

I stared at the small, white pill in the palm of my hand. It looked innocent enough, but it was the only thing keeping my world from burning down.

A suppressant.

Three years ago, I made a pact with my father. To prove I could lead with heart, not just heritage. To find a mate who loved Alessia, not the Princess. I had failed. For three years, I had swallowed this bitterness every morning. I did it to be the perfect, submissive Luna for the Silver Creek Pack. I did it to hide who—and what—I really was.

I swallowed it dry. The chalky taste lingered as I walked down the grand staircase of the Pack House.

The Pack House is the heart of any werewolf community. It is where the Alpha rules, where the high-ranking members live, and where the pack's business is conducted. It is supposed to be a sanctuary.

Today, it smelled like rot.

"She has nowhere else to go, Alessia. Have a heart."

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Santino, my husband and the Alpha of this pack, stood in the foyer. Beside him stood a woman I had never met, but my wolf bristled instantly.

She was petite, with teary eyes and trembling hands. But beneath the cheap perfume, I could smell it. The distinct, musky odor of a Rogue—a wolf without a pack, an outcast who had forsaken the laws of our kind.

"A Rogue, Santino?" I asked, my voice calm despite the turmoil in my gut. "You are bringing a Rogue into the Pack House? This violates the safety protocols."