His Rejected Mate, Their Secret Child

BECOMING LUNA

Avelisse’s POV



When I woke up the next morning, my eyes were swollen and sore, a cruel reminder of how much I had cried. I didn’t have to lift the covers to know who had entered. Angelou’s soft, cheerful voice filled the quiet room, her words bright and polite as she told me breakfast would be ready in twenty minutes.

As soon as she left, I dragged myself out of bed and headed for the shower. I needed to wash away the traces of last night… the fear, the tears, the heartbreak that still clung to my skin. The water was warm, but it did little to soothe the ache in my chest.

When I was done, I stood before the mirror and forced myself to look alive. I chose a low-cut dress, one that gave me a bit of confidence, and fixed my hair and makeup carefully. Please, I prayed silently, let them not all eat breakfast together. Dinner was enough. Goddess, if you spare me this morning, I’ll forgive you for everything else you’ve put me through.

My palms were damp as I descended the stairs. Every step felt heavier the closer I got to the dining room. I didn’t want to face them, not Dante, not his brothers. Even Salvatore’s politeness couldn’t save me from the unease of their presence.

When I reached the table, my heart sank. The three brothers were already there, seated in their usual places. And Salvatore, my one shred of comfort, was nowhere in sight.

“Good morning,” I said softly, forcing a smile.

They nodded. Victorio even gave me a faint, almost kind smile, but Dante didn’t look at me once. His silence was sharp enough to cut through the bond itself. I might have been his mate, but to him, I was no one.

I sat quietly and started to eat, pretending I didn’t feel his coldness pressing against me like a wall.

“People are excited to have a new Luna,” Valentino said suddenly, teasing, his tone dripping with mischief. His eyes gleamed as he glanced toward his brother.

Dante stiffened and shot me a glare so sharp it made me flinch. Then he went back to cutting his sausage, expression unreadable.

“She’s here as Luna, right, Dante?” Victorio pressed, smirking.

“Yes,” came Dante’s curt reply, clipped and lifeless.

“Brielle will lose her mind,” Valentino laughed. “She actually thought you’d make her Luna.”

The name hit me like a slap. Brielle. I’d heard it before, his mistress. My hand tightened around the knife until my knuckles turned white. A bitter wave of jealousy clawed up my throat, ugly and hot.

“Easy, Luna,” Valentino teased, noticing. “She’s just his main w***e. No need to cut yourself over it.”

My head snapped toward him, fury burning in my chest. The casual way he said it made it worse, like my pain was some kind of joke.

“He likes blondes with big t**s,” Valentino added with a grin, gesturing crudely. “Unlike you.”

I felt my face flush with anger and humiliation. I wasn’t blonde. I wasn’t voluptuous. For the first time, I wanted to scream.

“But you’re prettier than she is,” Victorio added smoothly, eyes glinting. He glanced at Dante, clearly amused by his discomfort. “Don’t you think so, brother?”

Dante’s fork froze midair. He sighed, exasperated, and pushed his chair back. “I’m leaving.” His tone was clipped, final. Without another glance in my direction, he rose and walked out.

The moment he was gone, the room felt easier to breathe in, but emptier too. I dropped my utensils and stood, appetite gone, and headed straight to my room.

The hours passed slowly. The mansion felt like a prison… cold, quiet, suffocating. I sat on the couch, staring at the walls, wondering what kind of life awaited me here.

Then the door opened.

Janela entered, followed by a group of servants carrying racks of dresses and boxes. They all bowed politely before stepping aside for a tall man to bring in the final rack of gowns.

“What’s going on?” I asked, confused.

“Today is your Luna introduction party,” Janela said with a smile. “Everyone who’s anyone will be attending.”

My fingers fidgeted against my skirt. “Oh.” My voice barely came out.

“It’s alright, Ma’am,” she assured me gently. “We’re all here to help you get ready.”

A young stylist with fiery red hair grinned. “You’ll be the most stunning woman in the room, I promise.”

Their energy was contagious, and despite myself, I smiled. We spent hours choosing between gowns. Janela insisted on something modest and formal, but the stylist, Marie, had a different opinion. “It can be elegant and powerful,” she said confidently.

In the end, she chose a cream-white strapless gown that hugged my body perfectly. The neckline dipped just enough to tease, and a slit ran high along my thigh, graceful but daring. My hair was swept into a soft bun, with loose strands framing my face. The heels they chose matched perfectly.

When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back. “Perfect,” someone murmured.

“Don’t forget the red lipstick,” Marie said playfully, handing it to me.

I applied it carefully, took one last breath, and nodded. “I’m ready.”

The ballroom was already alive with music and light when I appeared at the top of the grand staircase. Dozens of heads turned. Conversations stopped. For a moment, it felt as if the whole room was holding its breath.

And then I saw him.

Dante.

He stood among the guests, his gaze fixed on me. The expression on his face… shock, awe, maybe something else made my pulse quicken. For once, he wasn’t indifferent. He was looking.

I held his gaze as I descended the stairs, one slow step at a time. The crowd blurred around me. All I could see was him.

“Beautiful,” a voice said from below.

Salvatore smiled up at me, offering his hand. I took it, grateful for his steady presence, and he guided me down the last few steps.

“Ladies and gentlemen,” Salvatore announced proudly, his voice carrying across the room, “meet your new Luna, Avelisse Deveraux of Jasmine Pack.”

For a second, silence reigned. Then the crowd erupted in cheers. Relief flooded through me so fast it nearly stole my breath.

One by one, people came to greet me, warm smiles, polite compliments, words of welcome. Some women my age even invited me out for tea and shopping. I almost laughed. Was this really the same pack I’d been warned about? The same ruthless Sage Pack?

But not everyone was smiling.

A cluster of women stood near the bar, watching me with cold eyes. Their expensive dresses and perfect hair told me exactly who they were… the ones who thought they ruled the pack. I refused to shrink away. I walked toward them, keeping my chin high.

“Hello,” I greeted politely.

Their smiles were fake. One of them, a tall blonde in a glittering silver dress, leaned closer. “Don’t get too comfortable,” she said sweetly, venom dripping from every word. “You might be Luna, but you’re just a wolf. We’re Lycans. Remember your place.”

Before I could respond, a deep voice cut through the tension behind me, calm, cold, and unmistakable.

“Brielle,” Dante said, his tone low and dangerous. “Is this how you speak to your Luna?”