The Dragon Claimed the Forsaken Luna

"Marrying her is only a temporary strategy."

The man’s voice seeped through the crack of the door, low and careless.

"Selene, you know this. I need her status as an Imperial Mage to fend off the Demon Hunters. Once I drain all her life magic and raise our child, she will be disposable trash."

My hand hovered in mid‑air, the hem of my wedding gown trailing on the ground, my fingertips trembling.

Five years.

Five years of devotion, and I was nothing more than an advanced blood bag in the end.

A soft, sweet laugh drifted from inside the room.

"But Kael, today is your wedding after all. Even if you do not love her, she is still the Luna in name..."

"She does not deserve it."

Kael cut her off without a second of hesitation.

"My one and only Luna will always be you."

I glanced down at the diamond ring on my finger.

The so‑called fated mate.

It was utterly ridiculous.

I kicked the door open hard.

Both people inside turned around at once. Kael stood in his groom’s suit with his collar slightly unbuttoned, and his amber eyes flickered when he saw me. Selene curled in his arms, her black hair spilling over her white nightgown, her small face pale and delicate.

"Am I getting in your way?" I reached up to remove my veil. "Then give back the mage tower betrothal gifts. I’m calling off this wedding."

Selene reacted impossibly fast.

One second she looked pitiful in Kael’s embrace, and the next she let out a shrill cry and fell backward, clutching her lower abdomen tightly. A patch of red spread across her white skirt, and a streak of black blood trickled from the corner of her mouth.

"My baby! Alpha, my stomach hurts so badly."

She collapsed in a pool of blood, her whole body shaking.

Kael caught her at once and turned to face me, his gaze as if he had already convicted me.

"What did you do?"

"What did I do?" I let out a cold laugh. "I never even lifted a finger."

Before I finished speaking, a surge of Alpha pressure crashed down on me.

My knees buckled, and I dropped straight to the ground. Kael lunged at me like an enraged beast, his large hand clamping around my throat and slamming me against the wall. The back of my head struck the stone bricks, and my vision swam black.

"Who else but this malicious mage could have hurt her?" His grip grew tighter and tighter.

I gasped for air, scratching at his fingers.

"I didn’t… touch her…"

"Lies!" His eyes were filled with disgust. "You’re jealous she’s carrying my child, so you tried to kill her. Elara, you’re repulsive."

A cracking sound came from my throat.

Instinctively, I covered my lower abdomen with my hand.

There was another life there too.

"Kael…" I could no longer make a sound, only mouthing the words weakly. "Let go… I’m pregnant too."

He glanced down at my hand.

Then he sneered.

"You’ll make up anything to get away with this."

He threw me aside like garbage. I crashed onto the floor, the taste of blood filling my mouth.

Kael picked up the still‑whimpering Selene and walked toward the door without a single backward glance.

"Drag her to the altar and chain her to the formation. If Selene loses her child, drain her drop by drop."

Two werewolf guards stepped forward to seize me.

"Don’t touch me!" I raised my hand, trying to cast a spell.

"Shut up!"

One guard struck my neck with a sharp palm blow, hitting my magic circuit precisely. The faint light flickering at my fingertips died instantly.

They dragged me down the corridors, across the steps, and into the basement. My wedding gown was torn to shreds against the ground, scraps trailing behind me.

In the underground altar, two rune‑carved black iron chains locked around my wrists, suspending me in mid‑air.

Upstairs, Kael laid Selene gently on the bed.

The communication crystal stayed active.

I spoke toward it. "Kael, you will regret this."

Only one word came in reply.

"Drain."

Old Priest Morris walked over holding an anti‑magic steel dagger—the very one I had given him half a year ago.

"My apologies, my lady." He lowered his eyes, unable to meet my gaze.

"If you drain my magic, you will kill your own—"

The blade sliced open my right wrist.

Blood gushed out, and golden life magic flowed along the rune grooves on the floor upward, as if pulled by some unseen force.

This was my primal magic, the life force sustaining both me and my unborn child.

A satisfied sigh came from the bed upstairs.

"Mmm… this feels wonderful…"

Her voice was cloyingly soft.

My face grew paler and paler.

Thirty seconds later, a searing pain suddenly tore through my lower abdomen.

Warm liquid streamed down my thighs. I smelled blood, yet not all of it was mine.

It was my baby.

A three‑month‑old wolf pup.

The child’s father stayed by another woman’s bedside.

He never looked back even once.