DIVORCED LUNA: CARRYING THE ALPHA KING'S BABY

THEY THINK I'M A SPY FOR JULIAN

I said nothing, watching her carefully. My heart was hammering but I tried not to let it show. Fear was weakness, and I couldn't afford to be weak. Not here. Not now.

She studied me for another long moment, then lowered herself to sit on a nearby rock with a grunt of effort. The movement was careful, controlled, favoring the damaged leg.

"My name is Senna," she said, settling her weight. "Former Luna of the River's Edge Pack. I led warriors. Planned strategies. Kept the pack safe for fifteen years." Her voice was matter-of-fact, almost casual. "Then I took a wound during a border skirmish. Mountain lion got lucky, tore through my leg, damaged something deep inside. Healers did what they could, but..."

She gestured to her leg with a bitter smile.

"My wolf couldn't fully emerge anymore. The shift would start but stop halfway, leaving me trapped between forms. Agony like nothing I'd ever felt. The healers said the damage was permanent. My wolf was crippled inside me."

I swallowed hard, imagining that horror. A wolf unable to shift was like a bird with broken wings. Still alive, but unable to do the one thing that defined their existence.

"My mate—the Alpha—came to visit me while I was still healing," Senna continued, her voice going flat. "Told me he was sorry. That he cared for me. That this was difficult for him." She laughed, but there was no humor in it. "Then he told me I was being replaced. That the pack needed a whole Luna. A functional one. He'd already chosen my replacement—a younger female from a neighboring pack. Pretty thing. Undamaged."

Her hands clenched into fists on her knees.

"He gave me an hour to pack my things and leave pack territory. Said it was a kindness. That he could have declared me rogue and had me hunted, but out of respect for our years together, he'd let me go in peace." The bitterness in her voice could have stripped paint. "I left with the clothes on my back and nothing else. Everything I'd built, everyone I'd protected, all of it gone because my body broke in service to the pack."

The words settled over me like a weight. I thought of Julian, who'd married me for my dowry and kept me around until I was no longer useful. Who'd probably already replaced me in his bed with Lydia. Who'd throw me away just as easily if I ever made it back to his territory.

Alphas were all the same, it seemed. People were just tools to be used and discarded when they broke.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, meaning it.

Senna's eyes snapped to mine, sharp and assessing. "I don't want your pity. I want answers."

Before I could respond, movement around us caught my attention. Wolves were gathering, forming a loose circle around where I lay bound. Twenty, thirty, maybe more. All of them were scarred. All of them watching with varying degrees of interest and hostility.

This wasn't just a conversation. This was a trial.

Senna stood, her movement drawing every eye. The camp fell quiet, the only sounds the crackling of fires and the distant drip of water somewhere in the caves.

"We need to decide what to do with her," Senna announced, her voice carrying authority despite the rough edges. "She's a runaway from the Iron Claw Pack. Julian's elite trackers were hunting her—I saw them myself. Now she's here, eating our food, taking up our space, potentially bringing trouble to our doorstep."

"So kill her and be done with it," a man called out. He was missing an eye, the socket covered with a leather patch. "One less problem."

"Waste of effort," someone else said—a woman with whip scars across her back, visible through her torn shirt. "Just another runaway. Not worth the risk."

"We could trade her back," a third voice suggested. This one came from a younger man with burn scars covering his arms. "Julian wants her. We could negotiate. Supplies. Safe passage through Iron Claw territory. Medicine."

Murmurs of agreement rippled through the group at that. Several wolves nodded, clearly liking the idea of turning me into currency.

"She's worthless as trade," the one-eyed man countered. "What Alpha negotiates with exiles? More likely he'd promise us supplies then slaughter us when we handed her over. Can't trust pack wolves. They throw us away and then expect us to roll over when they want something."

"So we keep her," another voice said. "Put her to work. She can hunt, gather wood, whatever. Extra hands are always useful."

"Extra mouth to feed, you mean," someone shot back. "We barely have enough for ourselves. Adding another body just means everyone eats less."

The arguments started overlapping, voices rising. Kill her. Trade her. Keep her. Let her go. Each suggestion came with its own logic, its own appeal, its own dangers.

I lay there, bound and helpless, while they debated my life like I was livestock at market.

*Say something,* Nyx urged. *Defend yourself. Don't just lie here and let them decide.*

But what could I say? I had nothing to offer. No skills they needed. No information they wanted. I was just another broken wolf in a camp full of them, except I didn't even have the excuse of having been useful before I broke.

"She could be a spy," someone said, and several wolves growled in agreement. "Julian plants her here to learn our location. Once she escapes, she leads his warriors right to us."

"She's half-dead," Senna said flatly. "Look at her. She can barely move. If she's a spy, she's the worst one I've ever seen."

"Maybe that's the point," the man pressed. "Make her look pathetic so we take her in. Then she betrays us."

"If Julian wanted to find us, he'd have done it already," someone else argued. "We've been here five years. He knows we exist. He just doesn't care enough to hunt us down."

"He might care if she's important enough," the burn-scarred man pointed out. "Why else send elite trackers? Why chase one runaway Luna into the wildlands? She must know something. Or be something. Or have something Julian wants back."

All eyes turned to me at that.

I tried to swallow but my throat was too dry. My heart hammered against my damaged ribs. What could I tell them? The truth? That I was carrying the Alpha King's child? That would make me more valuable—and more dangerous. They'd either sell me to the highest bidder or kill me to avoid the trouble.

Lie? Say I was nothing, nobody, not worth the effort? They might believe it. Might let me go. Or might kill me anyway because nobody risks their camp for nothing.

"Enough," Senna said, her voice cutting through the debate like a blade.

Silence fell immediately. Every wolf turned to look at her.

She stood there, weight balanced carefully on her good leg, arms crossed over her chest. Her expression was unreadable—hard and assessing and giving away nothing.

"We're going in circles," she said. "Kill her or trade her, or keep her, send her away—we could argue all night and get nowhere. So here's what we're going to do."