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His Discarded Luna, the Rival's Obsession

Lila

"No wolf. No family. Harmless. Useful. The second I am done with her, the Luna title is yours." Eira Crawford heard those words through her husband's office door. For four years, she had been Sebastian Vale's hidden mate. She managed his household, entertained his relatives, cleaned up his messes, and lived on the three thousand dollars he gave her each month like charity. Even buying a new coat required an explanation. But for his first love, he casually prepared three hundred thousand dollars in research funding. To Sebastian, Eira was nothing more than a wolfless Omega from an orphanage. A quiet, obedient wife with no pack, no power, and no value beyond being useful. He had never introduced her publicly as his Luna. His family treated her like a servant. His sweetheart mocked her as a woman who could only survive by clinging to an Alpha. So Eira stopped crying. She recorded the affair, filed for mate dissolution, and placed the divorce papers in front of Sebastian. Even then, he thought she was throwing a tantrum. He signed without hesitation, certain she would come crawling back once she realized no one else would want a discarded, wolfless Omega. He was wrong. The woman he left at home washing dishes was a Stanford-trained electrical engineer. The "useless" wife he ignored was the hidden chief engineer behind a national self-developed chip project. Her movements were classified. Her disappearance could alert the federal authorities. Her name, once revealed, was enough to shake the entire scientific community. And Sebastian knew nothing. After walking out of his house with nothing but her freedom, Eira crossed paths with Killian Sterling, the coldest and most powerful Alpha in the north. He did not know her name yet, but his wolf recognized something in her that everyone else had missed. Meanwhile, Sebastian finally realized that Eira was not bluffing. He searched the entire city like a madman. For the first time in four years, he publicly called her his wife. He demanded she return. He begged for another chance. But by then, Eira was no longer waiting in his house. She was seated at the Sterling Pack's dinner table, dressed with quiet confidence, while the most feared Alpha in North America stood beside her. In front of everyone, Killian Sterling placed his hand at her back and said coldly, "Eira is not anyone's discarded Omega." "She is my Luna."

Werewolf Love triangle Alpha Billionaires Hidden Identities Billionaire Ex-wife Kickass Heroine

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Pain.

Disgust.

Unloved.

These words explain what I have felt for so long it has become part of me.

The pain I feel each time I wake up, knowing that no one wants me, not even my parents give a shit about me.

The disgust I feel each time I look in the mirror and see what I look like. Fat. Ugly. Disgusting. The cellulite on my thighs, the stomach, the dark stretch marks on my hips and everything, the oversized breasts that surprisingly have no stretch marks, the fat are that looked like that of a heifer.

The love I craved for everyday but never got it. I never really had friends because upon being fat and black, I was socially awkward. Very awkward. It was difficult to strike up a conversation with someone and when someone does it or when I manage to do it, I can't maintain it. So I never had friends to listen to me or a shoulder to cry on when I couldn't hold it all in anymore or a friend to at least lie to me and say "You are pretty, you don't look as disgusting as you think you do."

My parents weren't ever there. My mum was a big shot model who never wanted a child because it would ruin her perfect figure. Yes. Upon being all gross and fat, I am an accident. So when she gave birth to me, she went back to her normal life until cancer claimed her when I was 9. My dad, yeah. Another person that saw me as a mistake. He wasn't ready to be a dad when I was born but because he will need an heir in future, he didn't tell her to get rid of it or anything but he didn't want any more accidents, so he told my mum to do something to prevent further accidents, thus she tied her tubes. They didn't want me, never did. So they never cared enough to check if I ate, if I stayed out till 3 am, if I didn't even come back at all. I was just there in their uselessly big mansion which they used to show off, which never felt like home, which looked more like a museum (which was definitely not childproofed) than a home.

I hated mirrors so much, they showed me what I felt everyday. How heavy I am. I have tried a lot of times to lose weight but after each attempt, I got more depressed and went back to eating almost more because after working out for a while, who doesn't get angry when she doesn't see results?

Did it hurt? Yes. Did I stop eating? No. Did I get bigger? Hell Yes!!

Most times, whenever I see people celebrating their birthdays, I can't help but wonder what it feels like to do that. Yes, in case you are wondering, I have never ever celebrated my birthday. Today being one of those days, I am, as usual holed up in my room and thinking about my life and crying my eyes out. In all my 19 years on earth, my birthday has never been celebrated because uhm hellooo. Have you met my parents? But it's all good though. I plan on making my next birthday a memorable one, one I won't forget anytime soon, have all the fun in the world, love myself and stuff like that.

My name is Danica Maya Roberts. I'm 19 years dark skinned black girl and yeah, probably the biggest and most insecure black girl of them all.

*****************************************

"Miss Maya, your father requests your presence in his office." Mr Howard said through my room door. Mr Howard is the butler and has been with us since as far back as I can remember. He is a greying old man with the cutest granddaughter, Angel, who was the apple of his eyes. I smoothed my hands down my sweater which was big and mid thigh length. I put on my slippers, hoping that maybe he remembered it was my birthday. The sad thing is, even though I knew my parents, I still couldn't help but hope each year that maybe they'd remember my birthday. Up until my mum died, I kept hoping. Last year, I hoped. Every other year, I really hoped.

I knocked and patiently waited for him to invite me in. When I heard the distant "Come in", I walked in. There he was, the king sitting on his iron throne and reading the paper as he usually does all morning while sipping coffee. At 47, he didn't really look a day older than he did when he was 45.

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