His Discarded Luna, the Rival's Obsession

"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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A sharp, tearing sensation ripped through June's lower abdomen.

It was so sudden, so violently intense, that her fingers went numb. The glass of water slipped from her hand.

It hit the hardwood floor, shattering into dozens of jagged pieces. The sound echoed loudly in the massive, empty master bedroom of the Compton estate.

June tried to take a step forward, but her knees buckled.

A cold sweat instantly broke out across her forehead, sticking her hair to her skin. She collapsed onto the expensive Persian rug, her hands flying to her stomach.

Her lungs forgot how to pull in air. The pain wasn't just a dull ache; it felt like a serrated blade twisting inside her organs.

Her vision blurred at the edges, turning gray. She knew her body. She was a medical researcher. This was not a normal pregnancy cramp. Her vital signs were crashing.

Her phone was on the nightstand, three feet away. It looked like a mile.

Trembling violently, June dragged her body across the floor. The jagged pieces of the broken glass bit into her knee, but she couldn't even feel it over the agony in her abdomen.

She reached up, her fingers blindly clawing at the nightstand until she knocked the phone down.

The bright screen pierced her eyes. Her fingers were slick with cold sweat. She pressed the speed dial. Number 1.

Cole.

The phone rang once.

June squeezed her eyes shut, her fingernails digging so hard into her palms that the skin broke. Please answer. Please.

It rang a second time. Each second stretched out, heavy and suffocating.

Then, a click.

"What?" Cole's voice came through the speaker.

It wasn't a greeting. It was a wall of ice. In the background, June could hear the clinking of champagne flutes and the smooth jazz of a live band.

"Cole..." June gasped, her throat tight and dry. "Help me... the baby..."

Before Cole could respond, a high-pitched, sweet voice drifted through the receiver.

"Cole, who is it? We're going to be late for the red carpet."

Alycia.

June's stomach lurched. The pain spiked, sending a wave of nausea up her throat.

"June," Cole said, his tone dropping into a low, impatient growl. "If this is your pathetic attempt to stop me from attending the gala, it's a terrible strategy."

"No..." June choked out. She tasted something metallic in her mouth. Blood. "I'm bleeding. Please."

"Stop acting," Cole snapped. She could almost see him adjusting his expensive cufflinks, annoyed by her existence. "You are perfectly fine. We are walking on stage in two minutes. Do not call this number again tonight."

"Cole, wait-"

The line went dead.

The dial tone buzzed in the silent room. It sounded like a death sentence.

June stared at the darkened screen. Her phone slipped from her weak grasp, landing on the rug.

A sudden, terrifying warmth spread between her thighs.

June looked down. A dark, thick pool of red was soaking into the intricate patterns of the Persian rug.

Blood. So much blood.

A primal panic seized her chest. She was losing the baby.

With the last ounce of strength in her shaking fingers, she grabbed the phone again and dialed 911.

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