Claiming His Forsaken Luna

Selene

The Crone's words haunted me: 'You will have no happy ending.' But today, holding the pregnancy report, I dared to hope otherwise.

After three years of trying, of waiting, of disappointment—finally, success.

Outside the hospital, the black luxury sedan waited at the curb. Daniel, my security chief, stood beside it with perfect posture. When he spotted me, he immediately opened the car door.

"Thank you!" I said as I slid into the plush leather seat.

"Where to, my Luna?" Daniel asked once he was behind the wheel.

"Home." I couldn't contain my smile, excitement bubbling within me. After all this time, we would have an heir to the Black Pine Pack—one of the largest werewolf packs in the Eastern Territory.

As the car pulled away from the hospital, my thoughts raced ahead. I needed to plan the perfect way to tell Vortend. Despite the constant pressure from other packs, this news would bring him joy. I knew it would.

"Hurry, Daniel," I urged. "I have a lot to do today."

The mansion's massive doors closed behind me as I strode directly to the kitchen.

Miranda, my personal assistant, looked up from where she was arranging fresh flowers.

"Miranda, where's Emma?" I asked, already removing my jacket.

"In the kitchen, Luna," Miranda replied with a small bow of her head, using the respectful title for the Alpha's mate.

I nodded and continued toward the kitchen, where I found Emma preparing vegetables for dinner.

"You can take the evening off, Emma," I announced. "I'll cook tonight."

Emma's eyes widened in surprise. "Oh, thank you, Luna! I'm sure the Alpha will be very pleased if you make his favorite dessert! Even though he doesn't care for sweets, he can never resist your pudding!"

I smiled at the memory of Vortend telling me that my pudding was his second favorite dessert. When I had asked what his favorite was, he had simply looked at me and said, "You."

Three and a half years later, he was still the most powerful werewolf I knew, still commanded every room he entered. Still made my heart race whenever he walked through the door.

"I'll make his pudding," I decided, my plan forming clearly now. I would cook his favorite meal, place the medical report beneath his plate, and watch his face when he discovered it.

By nine o'clock, everything was ready. I sat at the table, watching the clock tick. Vortend often worked late, but he usually tried to be home by nine-thirty, continuing to work from home if necessary.

I glanced down at my stomach, allowing myself a soft smile as I waited for my husband to return.

By eleven, I had reheated the food twice. Still, I waited. He would come home. He always did.

After midnight, I heard the front door open. Rising quickly, I moved to the foyer and watched as Vortend entered.

Even after three and a half years of marriage, the sight of him still took my breath away. His tall, powerful frame moved with predatory grace as he loosened his black tie and set down his briefcase, still clutching some documents in his hand.

"Vortend!" I rushed to him, wrapping my arms around his neck.

His tone was cool, distant.

A cold wave washed over me, my fingers tightening on the report as if it were my last anchor..

I pulled back. "I was waiting for you. I wanted us to have dinner together. There's something I need to tell you."

"I've already eaten," he said, his expression unreadable. "I have something to tell you as well."

I blinked, momentarily thrown off my plan. "All right. You go first."

He led me to the living room and gestured for me to sit on the sofa. Instead of joining me, he remained standing, creating a distance between us that felt both physical and emotional.

Looking up at him, I noticed the coldness in his eyes. He had always been reserved, but this was different. This was detachment.

A sudden thought struck me, a fear I had carried since our arranged marriage. "Vortend... tell me, if it hadn't been your father's request—"

"I would have refused you," he interrupted, his voice sharp and final. "Even now, I would refuse you for Adriana."

The words hit me like a physical blow. Adriana—my half-sister. The daughter of my father's mistress.

My thoughts raced back to my father's disapproval of this marriage. He had never liked the Fenrith family. I had given up my family, my inheritance, my status—all for Vortend.

And now it seemed none of that mattered to him. If he could so easily discard his destined mate, what use was I?

"Sign these as soon as possible," Vortend said, placing documents on the coffee table. "I don't want to drag this out." He pulled out a lighter and cigarette, a habit he indulged only when deeply stressed.

"What did you want to tell me?" he asked after lighting his cigarette.

I felt hollow inside, my earlier joy turned to ashes. "It's not important anymore... forget it."

"If you have any concerns about the alimony, let me know. Your expenses will be covered, and you can remain within the pack," Vortend offered, as if discussing a business transaction rather than the end of our marriage.

"No... that won't be necessary. Everything is fine. I'll sign these papers and return them to you immediately." My world was collapsing around me, but I refused to lose my dignity as well.

Vortend nodded, seemingly satisfied with my compliance. "You can stay here tonight. It's late anyway. Adriana will move in once everything is settled. I don't want her to feel uncomfortable."

A bitter laugh nearly escaped my lips. He was concerned about Adriana's comfort while tearing apart his destined mate's life.

"Don't worry, I'll leave," I replied, my voice steady despite the pain coursing through me.

How could an Alpha abandon his destined mate for another woman? The painful truth lay before me: yes, he could.

As I walked past him, I searched his handsome face for any trace of the man I had fallen in love with, any hint of regret or pain that might match my own.

But his expression remained impassive, the perfect mask of the ruthless Alpha the world knew him to be.

"You will have no happy ending." The Crone's prophecy echoed in my mind, mingling with the metallic tang of blood on my tongue. Her gnarled fingers crushed the crystal, shards biting into my palm: "But if you force it, the ending will hurt worse than death."

Back then, I had scoffed, rising onto my toes to kiss Vortend’s bloodstained lips. "Then let it kill me."

Now, standing before the mirror, I laughed bitterly—a thin red thread of blood stretching between my lips, exactly like the cursed knot the witch had once tied around my wrist.

I left the room with my head held high, even as my heart shattered into countless pieces.

In the dining room, the carefully prepared meal sat cold and forgotten.