The Rejected Luna Is The Lycan King Surrogate

I'm Still The Alpha

"I want a divorce" Sheila said her eyes devoid of any emotions.

"No!" They chorused their eyes wide open from shock.

Sheila scoffed, unable to believe the drama unfolding before her eyes. The disbelief, the panic, the sudden fear flashing across their faces would have been amusing if it hadn’t been so insulting.

Drake’s hand fell away from where it had been wrapped around Ariana’s waist. His fingers twitched as realization hit him full force. He hadn’t believed Sheila would ever dare to ask for a divorce—much less say it so calmly, so coldly.

Ariana seethed with anger, but she masked it quickly behind a forced smile. Her once-proud composure slipped unconsciously, just for a second, before she straightened again.

Sheila tilted her head slightly as she studied the both of them, her gaze sharp and assessing.

“And why is that?” she asked coolly. “Is it because you want to overtake my pack too?” She raised an eyebrow, her tone laced with quiet accusation.

The question struck its mark.

Ariana found herself unable to meet Sheila’s gaze. For the first time, she couldn’t look Sheila straight in the eyes. Instead, she turned to Drake, her lips pressed together tightly.

Drake’s jaw clenched hard as shame crept into his expression. His fists curled at his sides, and for a brief moment, he looked away.

EARLIER

Drake’s hand roamed over Ariana’s back, tracing slow, deliberate patterns against her skin as he leaned closer, his fingers already reaching for the clasp of her red halter dress.

His touch moved from her lower back to the nape of her neck, pulling her closer as he kissed her deeply, possessively.

“Mhmm—muah,” the sound of their lips smacking together echoed loudly through the room.

Ariana tilted her head back, arching into him as her eyes fluttered shut, rolling back in pleasure.

“Ahnn—nhmm,” their moans filled the air as their tongues tangled, moving hungrily against each other.

“When are you going to divorce that b***h?” Ariana asked suddenly, hatred rooted deep in her voice.

Drake pulled back slightly, breathing heavily. “I can’t divorce her yet, baby,” he replied.

He leaned in again, trying to resume the kiss, but Ariana retreated, slipping out of his arms as she stood up from the bed.

“Why not?” she demanded, a crease forming between her eyebrows.

“You didn’t even mark her. She’s not even your mate,” she said, her eyes narrowing suspiciously.

Drake released a long sigh and stared at her, his expression serious now.

“Because Sheila’s father—late Alpha Duran—left the Dark Moon Pack to her in his will,” he explained slowly. “After he died, the Lycan King, King Damian, declared that whoever married her would become the new Alpha of the pack.”

He paused, making sure she understood where the conversation was going.

“Dark Moon is the richest werewolf pack in the kingdom,” Ariana said sharply. “You’re married to her. Why haven’t you taken over yet?” Her brows furrowed in frustration.

Drake exhaled heavily. “I was called into war on the day of the wedding,” he said plainly.

Ariana scoffed at the explanation, clearly displeased, but he continued.

“That’s why I haven’t claimed the pack yet,” he added, trying to reassure her. “But I will. Soon.”

PRESENT

Ariana remembered everything Drake had told her, every promise and explanation. That was when realization dawned on her.

If Sheila divorced him, everything would crumble.

Sheila would still be an Alpha. She would still own the Dark Moon Pack. And Ariana—no matter her title—would be nothing more than a Luna without a pack.

The thought made Ariana’s stomach churn. Her jaw clenched tightly as she shot a venomous glare at Sheila.

But she quickly regained her composure, lifting her chin and standing tall once more.

Before she could speak, Alena stepped forward.

“The first she-wolf to go to war and the only daughter of the Brooke family,” Alena said mockingly, “is actually willing to be a mistress.”

Her lips curved into a sharp, mocking sneer.

The color drained from Ariana’s face. Her fingers dug into her palms, knuckles turning white with restrained rage.

“And all this,” Alena continued coolly, “just for the wife’s inheritance.”

Drake moved so fast no one could stop him.

His hand struck Alena’s face with a loud crack.