TOO LATE, ALPHA: THE BILLIONAIRE LUNA STRIKES BACK

ROSETTE’S POV My husband only refers to me as his secretary in public. “The staff entrance is around back.” That’s what he said when I finally reached him at the Frost Gala. Timber Pack’s annual Christmas Eve celebration, where pack leaders gathered under the Winter Moon to toast another year of alliances and prosperity. I’d pushed through the crowd to get to him. Past Alphas who wouldn’t look at me. Past wolves who stepped aside not to make room, but to avoid touching me. Past glittering Christmas trees and champagne towers and happy couples dancing under strings of golden fairy lights. And when I finally broke through, breathless, hopeful, desperate— “Ethan—” His name left my mouth before I could stop it. He turned, and irritation flickered across his face. My stomach dropped. “Sorry,” I corrected quickly, lowering my eyes the way I’d been trained. “Alpha.” For a brief second, guilt crossed his face, and then it went cold. “Rosette.” He said my name with a curl of disgust. “The staff entrance is around back. You shouldn’t be in this section.” The staff entrance. On Christmas Eve. He was sending me to the staff entrance on Christmas Eve. The conversations around us died. Wolves have excellent hearing and a taste for blood in the water. “But I thought…” My throat closed. “Tonight is… I’m your—” “My secretary.” His Alpha voice rolled over me, and my hindbrain screamed to submit. To back down. To remember my place. “Don’t embarrass yourself by implying anything else.” His secretary. Not his wife of two years. Not the woman who’d signed a marriage certificate in his office while he promised me soon, baby, I’ll tell everyone soon, just give me time. Not his mate. Just his secretary. Humiliation burned behind my eyes. Around us, whispers started. Omega trash. Delusional. Pathetic. I’d done this to myself. For two years, I’d made myself invisible. Choked down bitter herbs every morning that killed my scent, suppressed my wolf, muted everything I was. I’d worn cheap dresses and worked eighteen-hour days and let his mother treat me like dirt under her designer heels. All because someone had once told me: Let him prove he loves you without knowing what you’re worth. A true mate sees you beyond strength or weakness. This was Ethan’s test, and he was failing it spectacularly. “Oh my God, Ethan, don’t be mean!” Madison Pierce materialized at his side. Honey-blonde hair cascading over bare shoulders. Blood-red dress with a slit that showed miles of leg, the color of sin against all that winter white decor. His hand slid to her waist and stayed there. His first love. The woman he’d told me was “just a childhood friend” when I’d asked about the photos in his office. The woman he’d been f*****g for the past year while I waited for scraps of his attention. I wasn’t supposed to know that. But wives always know. Madison turned to me with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “I’m sure she didn’t mean anything by it. Sweetheart, be useful and fetch us some champagne? The vintage reserves, not the garbage they serve to omegas.” She tilted her head. “You do know the difference, don’t you?” She said it sweetly, generously, as if she were doing me a favor. Every instinct screamed at me to tell her the “good bottles” she wanted were from vineyards my family owned. That she was an ant pretending to be a giant. But I’d spent two years burying that pride. “Of course,” I heard myself whisper. I made it three steps before cold liquid hit me. Red wine. Expensive red wine that soaked through my cheap cream dress and dripped down my chest, my arms, pooling at my feet in a spreading stain, red as blood under the chandelier light. “Oh my Goddess!” Madison’s gasp carried across the ballroom. “I’m so clumsy! I’m so sorry!” She wasn’t sorry. Her aim had been perfect. She surveyed my ruined dress with mock sympathy. “Though honestly? The wine stain gives it some personality. Before, it was so plain I thought you were wearing a hospital gown.” The crowd erupted. Laughter echoed off the marble walls, mixing with Christmas carols playing softly in the background. Someone pulled out their phone to record. This would be pack gossip for months. I stood frozen, wine dripping from my hair, dress destroyed, looking exactly like the trash they all thought I was. Behind me, a twelve-foot Christmas tree glittered with silver and gold ornaments. Around us, wolves in designer gowns and tailored suits toasted to peace and goodwill. Merry f*****g Christmas. Madison pulled cash from her designer clutch now, making a show of counting bills. “Here. This should cover a new dress. I’m sure you can find something nice at—what’s that store? Goodwill?” She flung the money at my feet. “Actually, keep it. Consider it a Christmas bonus for all your hard work.” More laughter. Louder now. Someone near the back actually doubled over. I looked at Ethan. My husband. My mate. The man who’d promised to love me. He was already pulling Madison close, his hand possessive on her waist, and she melted into him with a satisfied smile. He wouldn’t even look at me. Tonight was supposed to be different. The Frost Gala wasn’t just a Christmas party. It was Timber Pack’s ceremony for Alphas rising to Regional Commander, a position that required a publicly acknowledged Luna by ancient law. Tonight, under the Winter Moon’s blessing, Ethan would gain authority over twelve allied packs. But only if he ascended with his mate at his side. For two years, he’d hidden me. Tonight, he had no choice but to claim me publicly. That’s what I’d believed this morning when I pulled on this cheap cream dress I’d saved three months to buy, paid for with skipped meals since the Blackwells gave me nothing but work. I’d been so f*****g stupid. “Everyone.” Ethan’s Alpha voice cut through the noise, commanding instant silence. He stood at the center of the ballroom now, bathed in silvery Winter Moon light streaming through the glass ceiling. Snowflakes drifted past the windows. Madison glowed beside him. “Tonight marks a significant milestone.” He smiled at the crowd, that charming smile I’d fallen for. “The Frost Gala honors those rising to Regional Commander, and I’m humbled to accept this position.” Applause. Murmured approval. “But no Alpha rises alone.” His voice softened. “To accept this honor, ancient law requires I present someone special. Someone worthy of standing beside me as my Luna. My partner. My queen.” His hand tightened on Madison’s waist, and my heart cracked down the center. “Madison Pierce has been by my side through everything. She understands what it means to be a leader. To make hard choices.” He looked down at her with open adoration. “She’s everything I need.” Everything I wasn’t. “Tonight, under the Winter Moon’s blessing, I’m honored to claim her as my mate and present her as Luna of Timber Pack.” The crowd erupted in cheers and howls, congratulations mixing with the soft strains of “Silent Night” still playing through the speakers. Madison turned into Ethan’s arms and he kissed her, right there in front of everyone, his hand cradling her face, reverent and tender. I watched him kiss another woman. His wife stood ten feet away, covered in wine, and he kissed another woman. And I felt myself start to die. “Rosette.” I turned to find Patricia Blackwell watching me. Ethan’s mother. She looked at me the way people look at dog s**t on their heel. “We need to talk. Now.” She turned and walked toward a side hallway, away from the twinkling lights and holiday cheer, without pausing to see if I’d follow. I followed because what else was there to do? Patricia Blackwell had perfected the art of breaking me. Overworking me until my hands bled. Degrading me in ways that left no visible scars. A viper in designer heels, cruel and impossible to please. The hallway was quieter, insulated from the celebration. Frost crept along the windows. She pulled an envelope from her clutch before I could speak. “Let’s not waste time on pretense.” Her voice was clipped. “This farce ends tonight. Consider it my Christmas gift to you.” “Ethan—” “Doesn’t want you anymore. He never really did.” She thrust the envelope at me. “Annulment papers and a check for one hundred thousand dollars. More than generous for someone in your position.” I stared at the envelope. “Did you actually think my son would keep you?” Patricia’s laugh cut through the quiet hallway. “Look at yourself, Rosette. No pack, no family, no power. You’re nobody. My son needs a real Luna, someone who brings connections and strength. Madison is a Beta from an established bloodline. Her family controls three packs across the northeast, and her Father would soon be voted chairman at Sinclair Global.” She stepped closer, contempt rolling off her. “What do you bring? Nothing. You probably can’t even bear healthy pups. That’s what happens to damaged wolves. Weak breeding produces weak offspring.” Madison appeared in the hallway, drawn to my humiliation. “No truer words, Patricia.” She smiled, still glowing from Ethan’s public claim. “Any pups from you would be better off dead. If Ethan could even stomach touching you long enough to try.” Her eyes glittered. “He told me everything, you know. How he had to get drunk just to touch you on your wedding night. How he closed his eyes and imagined me. How he’d come to my bed afterward just to wash the stench of you off.” The words stabbed through me. “Poor, useless, pathetic Rosette Sutton.” Madison leaned close, her perfume cloying. “You should have died alongside your parents.” My parents weren’t dead. That was a lie I’d told to hide my bloodline. But hearing her weaponize it burned away the last of my tears. The heat behind my eyes cooled. The trembling in my hands stopped. I pulled the check from the envelope and tore it in half. Patricia gasped. I tore it again, letting the pieces drift to the marble floor, and then I met their stunned expressions. “Can I at least say goodbye to my husband? Or is that too much dignity for an omega to ask?” Patricia’s face went purple. “How DARE you—” Her hand flew up to slap me. I didn’t flinch. Madison caught her wrist mid-swing, laughing. “She’s not worth it, Patricia.” She pulled out her phone. “Besides, your precious goodbye isn’t happening.” A text message glowed on the screen: Ethan: Get rid of her. Whatever it takes. She’s exhausting. “See? He doesn’t even want to see you.” Madison’s smile was victorious. “You shouldn’t have ripped up that check. A hundred thousand dollars? That was foolish. Really foolish.” Her voice dropped. “Too bad you’ll be sleeping in the snow tonight.” “SECURITY!” Patricia’s shriek echoed down the hall. Heavy footsteps. Three guards appeared. “Remove her from the premises,” Patricia commanded. “Don’t bother with discretion. Let everyone see what happens to trash that overstays its welcome.” Rough hands grabbed my arms. I struggled but their grips were iron. They dragged me back toward the ballroom. This wasn’t the discreet back exit. This was a spectacle, a final humiliation. The doors burst open, and suddenly I was being hauled through the crowd, heels scraping marble as wolves turned to stare. Conversations died. The Christmas music seemed silly now, “Joy to the World” playing while everyone watched security drag me past. Through blurred vision, I saw the stage. Saw Ethan standing in the Winter Moon’s silver light, Madison at his side, snowflakes drifting past the windows behind them. He was speaking, his Alpha voice carrying across the silent room. “—the Moon Goddess, in her infinite wisdom, sometimes binds us to those who would be our downfall. A test of strength. Of loyalty.” His voice was clinical. “I was cursed with a fated mate who would have been a ridicule to this pack. A stain on the Blackwell bloodline.” He called me a curse. His own mate, a curse. “For the good of this pack, I hid her. Kept her from bringing shame to us all.” The guards were still dragging me, but slower now. Everyone watched the stage. “But tonight, under the sacred Winter Moon, I must sever all ties with what the Goddess mistakenly gave me.” His eyes swept the crowd and found me being hauled toward the exit on Christmas Eve. Perfect timing. “I invoke the ancient rites of our people.” His Alpha voice rang with power. “I, Ethan Blackwell, Alpha of Timber Pack, reject the bond with Rosette Sutton.” The first wave of pain struck my chest. “She is unworthy to stand beside me.” Another strike. I gasped, knees buckling, but the guards held me up. “Unworthy to be my Luna.” His eyes locked with mine across the distance. “She is nothing.” The mate bond ripped out of my chest. I’d heard about rejections before. People described them as painful, as difficult, as heartbreaking. They lied. It is far worse.