The Vanished Luna: Returning to Reject the Alpha

"Not guilty."

With those two words, my husband, the Alpha, acquitted his mistress of poisoning my mother.

I had the toxicology reports. I had the receipts. But Garrison didn't care.

He looked me in the eye, his hand resting possessively on Keyla's back, and told me to stop making a scene.

That was just the beginning of my hell.

He moved Keyla into our master suite and forced me into the servant's quarters.

"Since you can't give me strong pups," he sneered, "you can serve those who do."

I became the maid in my own home, washing Keyla's silk lingerie while she wore my Luna robes.

When I tried to fight back, he used the Alpha Command to silence me and locked me in a room filled with silver dust that burned my skin like acid.

He even drugged me and offered me to a rival Alpha just to secure a timber deal.

He thought he had broken me. He thought I was just a weak Omega who would eventually fade away.

But he forgot that my mother taught me everything about poisons.

On the night of the yacht party, I didn't just jump into the dark ocean to escape.

I jumped to be reborn.

I flushed my wedding ring, severed the bond, and let the icy water swallow Janette the victim.

Garrison thought I was dead.

He didn't know that the ocean wouldn't kill me. It would awaken my true bloodline.

And when I came back, I wasn't his wife anymore.

I was a White Wolf, and I was going to burn his pack to the ground.

Chapter 1

Janette POV:

The wooden gavel struck the sound block. It sounded like a gunshot.

"Not guilty," the Elder announced. His tone was dry as dust.

I sat frozen. My knuckles turned white as I gripped my skirt. Keyla stood in the dock, looking like a delicate, innocent flower in her white dress. But the scent coming off her was cloying-synthetic vanilla masking something rotten and metallic.

She turned her head. Caught my eye. A corner of her lip curled up. A micro-smirk.

She had won.

She'd poisoned my mother with Wolfsbane. I had the toxicology reports, the black market receipts-none of it mattered.

Because Garrison stood beside her.

My husband. My Alpha.

He placed a protective hand on Keyla's lower back. Possessive. Intimate. He didn't look at me once.

"This session is adjourned."

The gallery murmured. I could feel their pity and disdain prickling my skin. To them, I was just Janette: the broken, shiftless Omega accusing the Alpha's childhood sweetheart.

My legs felt like lead pipes as I stood.

"Garrison."

He stopped near the exit but didn't turn.

"We need to talk," I said, voice trembling.

He finally looked at me. His amber eyes were cold. "We will discuss this at home, Janette. Not here. Don't make a scene."

He guided Keyla out. She practically skipped, her arm brushing his.

The drive back was a blur of misery. When