From Their Lab Rat to Their Luna

Seraphine's POV

In the Lunar Crown Council Chamber, thirteen elders formed a semicircle. The moment I pushed through the doors, every gaze locked onto me.

"Please, sit, Seraphine." Marina Blackwood gestured elegantly toward the solitary chair in the center of the chamber. "We need your professional advice."

Professional advice?

I adjusted my glasses and walked calmly to the designated spot. As Blackwood Corporation's Chief Ecological Advisor, I'd attended countless meetings, but never been invited into this legendary sanctum.

Ancient lunar phases were carved into the stone dome above, and the air carried a wild, primal scent. My instincts screamed—this wasn't going to be a friendly consultation.

"Over the past two years, wolves going feral in the Silver Ridge Mountains have increased by 340%." An elder with a white beard opened a thick file. "Several sub-packs are even proposing to split from the main pack. Such division threatens our pack's survival."

Marina picked up the thread: "The elders believe the only way to stabilize the situation is to produce a symbolic heir."

I frowned slightly. "An heir? What does this have to do with my expertise?"

"Everything." Marina's smile was as precise as a mask. "We plan to have Cedric mate with the pure-blood she-Alpha, Lysanne. Your Moonlight bloodline is the key stabilizing factor needed to ensure this plan succeeds."

The air crystallized.

I could hear my heartbeat echoing distinctly in the stone chamber. Slowly, I spoke: "I'm sorry, could you repeat that? I think I misheard something."

"You heard correctly." Another elder pushed up his glasses. "According to our research, your Moonlight bloodline does indeed contribute significantly to feral stabilization. However, from both genetic and pack political perspectives, you cannot bear qualified heirs for the pack."

Cannot bear qualified heirs for the pack?

My fingers traced the leather notebook I always carried. "May I ask how you reached this conclusion?"

"Simple." Marina rose and walked to the stone table in the chamber's center. "Cedric will undergo the formal mating ritual with Lysanne—requiring both soul bond and mating bond, completed under the blood moon."

Her voice was terrifyingly calm: "And you, according to pack rules and public relations, remain his mate. To the pack, you'll publicly support this decision—tell them you're 'voluntarily stepping aside for the good of the pack'; to the human world, you'll be that child's mother."

My fingertips emanated the faintest silver-cold light. Several Alpha elders instinctively felt a chill.

"So," my voice was dangerously calm, "you want my husband to mate with another woman, and I'm supposed to publicly support it and play the adoptive mother?"

"You're useful." The white-bearded elder spoke as if discussing the weather. "But only as a stabilizer, not as a suitable mate."

Marina delivered the final blow: "If your blood wasn't valuable, what place would a human have among us?"

Stabilizer. Valuable.

These words echoed repeatedly in my mind. I suddenly wanted to laugh—to laugh at my own naivety over the past three years.

"I refuse."

I stood up, my voice ringing clearly in the stone chamber: "The marriage contract includes fidelity clauses, and the mating bond requires basic respect. If you won't even give me that dignity, I have no reason to stay."

I met Marina's eyes directly: "Want me to play along with your charade? Not happening."

Marina's smile finally vanished.

"The pack won't fall apart over one human's tantrum, Seraphine." Her tone grew dangerous. "But those Gray Forest protection projects of yours, the sanctuary rights for those exile packs... you know what will happen to them without Blackwood support."

This was naked blackmail.

I felt fury surge through my chest. Marina knew exactly what I cared about—those rescued werewolves and humans—and didn't hesitate to use them against me.

After the meeting, my mate Cedric Blackwood intercepted me in the corridor.

"Sera, let me explain..." He tried to take my hand, but I pulled away.

"Explain what? Explain how long you all spent planning this farce?" My voice was quiet, but each word cut like a blade.

"My bloodline has issues, I have to pair with a pure-blood mate. It's just a ceremony. Once the child is born, you're still the most important person to me." Cedric rushed to explain.

"Then let me ask you," I interrupted, still holding onto a thread of hope, "in this entire plan, which part considered my feelings?"

But Cedric opened his mouth and couldn't say anything.

In that moment, I finally understood what it meant to die inside.

At midnight, I returned to my office and accessed Blackwood Corporation's internal database. As Chief Ecological Advisor, my clearance level was high.

I pulled up all medical and experimental records related to me.

The screen displayed: [Moon-Touched Sample No.07]

In the bloodline stabilization project report, the recommendation was crystal clear: "This human subject can be sustainably used for stabilization experiments, but mating is not recommended to avoid producing uncontrollable mixed-blood Alpha heirs."

Sample No.07.

I had never been Seraphine Blackwood. I was just Sample No.07.

I closed the computer and picked up my phone. My fingers trembled slightly, but my heart grew colder and more resolute.

The first call went to a cross-state law firm in Seattle: "I need to consult about marital breach of faith and emotional damage compensation."

The second call went to the exile pack leader at Gray Forest Sanctuary: "Help me contact that retired elder. I want to know how to sever a mating bond."

After hanging up, I walked to the floor-to-ceiling window. Silver moonlight spilled across the distant mountain silhouettes.

Suddenly, a name surfaced in my mind—Damien Blackwood.

The Alpha who massacred the village, struck from the inheritance list.

If the entire pack was lying, how much of his story was actually true?