The Alpha King’s Divorced Luna

Lunette POV “Thank you everyone for coming to celebrate my husband’s birthday! It means the world to him knowing you all care. I’d like to personally say, he’s the most loving, kind, giving man I’ve ever met in my entire life. Since the moment we met we’ve been attached at the hip. And you know how possessive he can be!” I giggle, earning several laughs from the crowd. “Even as a human, he’s never treated me any differently. He’s always been one to stick up for me if anyone ever said anything, which was rare. He somehow managed to make me feel safe without ever making me feel small, and that’s a hard thing to find these days.” A few soft awes ripple through the room while I laugh lightly, shaking my head. “And trust me, he may look all intimidating and serious half the time, but this man is secretly the biggest softie I’ve ever met. Like a guard dog if you will.” More laughter bursts from the crowd. “But honestly, I couldn’t ask for a better partner. He’s my best friend before anything else. My home. My peace in every storm life throws at us. And I feel unbelievably lucky that out of everyone in this world, somehow I’m the one who gets to love him.” I lift my glass slightly toward him, smiling wider. “So happy birthday to my husband. I love you more than words could ever properly explain.” With that I raise my glass of champagne and began to step down from the stage, letting the music continue to play. Before I can make it back to Luka, Ragnar suddenly appears beside me. “He’s here,” he says quietly. I stop mid-step and look at him. “Okay. Bring him here. I’ll tell Luka his gift is ready.” Ragnar grins like he already knows this is about to become entertaining, then disappears back into the crowd. I spot Luka chatting with some pack members and run over to him. “Hey, birthday boy.” I hand him another drink. He takes it without hesitation and downs nearly half the glass immediately. I snort. “You do realize champagne is meant to be enjoyed slowly, right?” “I’m hydrating.” “With alcohol?” “It has fruit in it somewhere.” I laugh under my breath and smooth my hand over the front of his jacket. “I’ve got something I want you to see.” His brows lift slightly. “If this is another surprise dance performance from Rowan, I’m leaving my own party.” “That happened one time.” “And I still have nightmares.” Before I can answer, Ragnar reappears near the entrance with a tall dark-haired man beside him. Joseph. The second Luka sees him, his entire face changes. “Holy sh*t,” Luka breathes and walks over to him. “You’re here?” Luka says. “Traveling here almost killed me, but yes.” “You still look ugly.” “And you still dress like you’re trying to seduce every woman in a five mile radius.” Luka grins. “Worked on my wife.” “Poor girl.” Joseph chuckles. I laugh while Luka flips him off without even looking away from him. “When did you get here?” Luka asks. “About twenty minutes ago. Your guards looked ready to kill me.” “That’s because you tried climbing the gate.” Ragnar adds. “The front entrance felt too formal.” Luka shakes his head with a laugh. “Gods, I missed you.” Joseph’s expression softens briefly. “Missed you too, brother.” Then suddenly his eyes widen. “Oh! I brought Kallie.” Luka blinks. “Kallie?” “My sister,” Joseph says like that explains everything. “You should see her now. All grown up. Scary, honestly.” He turns, scanning the patio. “Where did she wander off to?” I glance around curiously too. Joseph suddenly points toward the far side of the room near the bar. “There.” Luka turns casually at first. Then freezes. Not subtly either. Every single muscle in his body locks so completely it’s almost frightening. The glass stills halfway to his mouth. His breathing stops. And for the first time all night, the sound of the party seems to disappear entirely. Confused, I follow his line of sight. A woman stands near the bar in a deep emerald dress, one hand resting lightly against the marble counter while speaking to the bartender. Dark curls spill over her shoulders in soft waves, the chandelier light catching against warm brown skin and sharp golden jewelry. Beautiful. Almost painfully so. As if sensing the attention, she turns. Her eyes land on Luka. And she freezes too. The drink slips slightly in her fingers. Shock flashes across her face so quickly it almost looks like fear before something deeper crashes into it. Recognition. The air suddenly feels charged, thick as lightning moments before a storm splits the sky open. What in the world is going on.. did they have a thing or something I wasn’t told about? I’ve never heard of a Kallie.. only Joseph. Beside me, Luka catches me completely off guard as he whispers hoarsely, “Mate.” Across the dance floor, Kallie breathes the exact same word, causing my fears to rise. “Mate.” My eyes widen in horror at the scene unfolding in front of me, “What the f*ck?” The word detonates through me. Mate. Not whispered softly or uncertainly either. It lands heavy, final, ancient enough to make the hair rise along my arms. The dancing keeps moving around us for half a second longer before the tension spreading off Luka crashes into the area like a tidal wave. Conversations falter. Laughter dies awkwardly mid-breath. Even the musicians stumble over a note. And Luka.. Goddess. I have never seen him look like this. Not angry. Not cold. Not even shocked. He looks wrecked straight down to the marrow of his bones. His eyes stay locked on her like the rest of the world has completely ceased to exist. Including me. My stomach twists painfully. Joseph looks between them once before muttering, “Well.. this feels catastrophic.” No one laughs. Kallie slowly sets her drink onto the bar without taking her eyes off Luka. Her expression shifts rapidly through disbelief, confusion, anger, something dangerously close to hurt. “You,” she says softly. Luka takes one step toward her before stopping like he physically cannot decide whether to run or retreat. “You’re here.” Her brows pull together sharply. “Here? Joseph invited me to be his plus one.” “You disappeared.” “I was twelve! Our mom found her mate and left.” Her voice cracks through the area hard enough that several nearby guests flinch. I stare between them, feeling more and more invisible with every second. “Okay,” I say carefully, forcing out a strained laugh. “Can somebody maybe explain why my husband is looking at another woman like the moon just descended into the dance floor?” Nothing. Not one person answers me. Ragnar suddenly looks deeply interested in the ceiling. Traitor. Kallie finally tears her eyes from Luka long enough to look at me properly. And there’s confusion there too. Real confusion. “And who are you?” she asks. The question slices clean through my chest. I blink once before straightening my spine. “I’m his wife.” Silence. Then I add more firmly, “His mate.” Kallie stares at me for two long seconds. Then, unbelievably, she lets out a small disbelieving laugh. “No,” she says. The single word lands like a slap. “I’m his mate.” My pulse begins hammering so violently I can hear it in my ears. “What?” Joseph mutters, “Okay, maybe we should all calm down before someone shifts and destroys the ballroom.” “No, actually,” I snap, glaring at him. “I’d love for someone to explain why there’s suddenly another mate standing in my husband’s birthday party.” Luka finally looks at me. And somehow that’s worse. Because there’s guilt in his face. Not denial. Not confusion. Guilt. “I didn’t know,” he says quietly. “You didn’t know what?” My voice rises despite myself. “That you had lied to me saying I was your mate, having your real mate tucked away somewhere?” His jaw tightens instantly. “Watch your tone.” I almost laugh from pure disbelief. “My tone?” I repeat. “Luka, your long-lost soulmate just walked into our party and I’m supposed to worry about my tone?” Several guests begin slowly disappearing from the dance floor like frightened deer sensing wildfire. Cowards. Kallie folds her arms tightly across herself, though her eyes never fully leave Luka. “This is insane,” she says. “You told this human she was your mate?” Joseph rubs a hand down his face. “I had a feeling this would happen eventually.” “You knew?” I whip toward him. Luka suddenly moves, stepping toward me at last. For one stupid hopeful second, I think maybe he’s going to reassure me. Instead his voice comes out cold enough to freeze blood. “Go upstairs.” I blink. “What?” “Lunette.” His tone sharpens dangerously. “Go to our room.” The humiliation burns hotter than anger now. “You cannot seriously expect me to just leave while this is happening.” “I said go upstairs.” “No.” The word flies out before I can stop it. The room goes deathly still. Luka’s eyes flash faintly gold. “Do not make a scene.” “A scene?” I choke out a laugh. “You’re standing here.. with your wife of 6 years and now a mate you’ve haven’t seen since you were children!” “I am handling it.” “By sending your wife away?” His expression hardens into something I barely recognize. “For the rest of the night,” he says flatly. “You’ll stay in our room until I come speak with you.” The words hit harder than if he’d shouted. Around us, people suddenly become very interested in their drinks again. Cowards. All of them. I stare at him, waiting for the moment he realizes how cruel he sounds. It never comes. Kallie looks uncomfortable now, her earlier shock fading into visible unease. “Luka..” “Not now,” he snaps without looking away from me. That hurts too. Because even angry, his voice toward her sounds different. Softer underneath. My throat tightens painfully. “So that’s it?” I ask quietly. “You’re choosing her already?” His face darkens instantly. “Do not put words in my mouth.” “You’re literally dismissing me for her.” “You’re emotional.” I recoil like he physically struck me. Ragnar winces. Joseph mutters, “Brother, that was the wrong thing to say.” “No kidding,” Kallie says under her breath. Luka drags a hand through his hair, frustration radiating off him in brutal waves now. “I need space to think.” “And I don’t?” My voice cracks despite every effort to stop it. “I’m your wife. You said I was your mate.” “You’re making this harder.” Something inside me splinters at that. Not because of the mate bond that I don’t have. Not even because of Kallie. Because he’s looking at me like I’m the problem for bleeding from a wound he just opened. I swallow hard against the burning in my throat. “Right,” I whisper. Luka’s expression flickers slightly, like regret finally tries to surface. Too late. Without another word, I shove my champagne glass into Ragnar’s chest hard enough that some spills down the front of his suit. “Happy birthday,” I say hollowly. Then I turn and walk inside the pack house while hundreds of eyes follow me the entire way. Behind me, I hear Joseph say very clearly: “Well. This is going to become a historical disaster.”