From the Ashes: The Broken Luna Returns

"Choose one," the Rogue leader laughed, holding a silver knife to my throat. Beside me, my husband Connor, the Alpha, looked between me and Gemma. I begged him through our mind-link. I was his mate. I was his Luna. But Connor turned his back on me. "Haven is strong," he said coldly. "Gemma is fragile. I choose Gemma." He walked away with another woman in his arms, leaving me to die in a factory filled with poisonous silver dust. To survive, I forced my broken body to shift and jumped into the freezing industrial river. I survived the water, but the life inside me didn't. The "miracle pup" we had tried three years for... was gone. When I dragged myself back to the Pack, bleeding and empty, Connor didn't smell my grief. He only cared that I had "scared" Gemma. He even used his Alpha Command to force me into submission when I tried to expose her lies. "You are jealous and heartless," he spat at me. He was right. My heart was dead. So while he was out hunting for his "missing" mistress, I set the Pack House on fire. I threw a single item into the safe zone for him to find in the ashes: the ultrasound photo of the son his betrayal had killed. Then, I turned my back on the flames and walked away to find the man who would treat me like a Queen.

Chapters

Chapter 7

Haven POV:

I was in the garden, sitting on the stone bench where I used to tell Connor about my day. The roses were blooming, blood-red against the green leaves.

I was waiting for the courier to pick up the final documents for the share transfer.

"WHERE IS SHE?"

The roar shook the windows of the house.

A moment later, the patio doors flew open. Connor stormed out. His eyes were bleeding into the gold of his wolf. He was on the verge of a forced shift.

He marched across the grass and grabbed me by the upper arm. His grip was bruising. He yanked me to my feet.

"Where is she, Haven?" he snarled, saliva flying from his lips.

I winced. My body was still recovering from the surgery. I was weak, defenseless. "Let go of me."

"Gemma is gone!" Connor shouted. He shoved his phone in my face.

There was a text message on the screen. Help me. She found me. She says I have to pay. Attached was a grainy photo of Gemma tied up in what looked like a damp basement.

"I have been sitting here for two hours," I said, my voice flat.

"Liar!" Connor shook me. "I know you have your private guards. I know you hired that investigator. What did you do? Did you have them take her? Did you order them to kill her?"

"I don't care enough about her to kill her," I said.

"Don't lie to me!" The Alpha power rolled off him in waves, crashing against my shields. "You are jealous. You are vindictive. You couldn't stand that I chose her."

"You didn't just choose her, Connor," I looked him in the eye. "You killed for her."

He paused, confused. "What are you talking about? Nobody died."

"Are you sure about that?"

He blinked, the gold fading slightly from his eyes. He sniffed the air. Finally, finally, his nose was working.

"You smell... like iron," he muttered. "And sickness."

"That's the smell of your legacy rotting," I said.

He growled, dismissing it. "Stop speaking in riddles! Tell me where Gemma is, or I swear to the Moon Goddess, I will throw you in the cells. I will let the Enforcers interrogate you like a common Rogue."

He threatened me with the dungeon. The man who swore to protect me.

"Check the security logs," I spat. "Or did she conveniently disable the cameras again?"

"The system was hacked," Connor growled. "Only someone with Luna-level clearance could override the perimeter. That's you, Haven."

Of course. She stole my passwords. She played him like a fiddle.

Connor shoved me back. I stumbled and fell onto the grass. The impact jarred my healing womb, sending a spike of white-hot agony through my gut. I curled in on myself, gasping.

He stood over me, looking down with disgust.

"You are not the woman I mated," he said coldly. "That woman had a heart. You are just a husk."

He turned and ran toward the perimeter, shouting orders into his phone for the trackers to find Gemma.

I lay in the grass, staring at the dirt.

A husk.

Yes. He was right. He had eaten the fruit and thrown away the shell.

But husks are dry.

And dry things burn very, very well.

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