CHAPTER ONE

The knife slipped from my fingers.

Steel rang against marble. Plates shattered a second later, porcelain bursting like bone beneath my feet. The sound echoed through the dining hall, sharp enough to make the guards outside the doors stiffen.

Derula didn’t flinch.

He was standing, glaring at me like he didn't just drop bomb on me.

“Eidlene is back,” he repeated, as if he were announcing the weather. “We’ll divorce.”

I stared at the fragments by my slippers. One shard had sliced my toe. Blood welled, warm, quiet. I didn’t feel it. I didn't mourn it.

My blood had ran cold.

Divorce.

My mouth opened. Nothing came out.

Derula folded his arms, crown glinting beneath the chandelier. His eyes—once warm, once mine—were flat, calculating. A king measuring loss like coin.

I'm the coin or ...the loss?

I swallowed.

“You’ll leave by tomorrow,” he continued. “I don’t want you here when she arrives.”

The room tilted.

I gripped the edge of the table. My palms slipped on polished wood. Three years of meals I cooked myself. Three years of sitting alone at this table while he met councils, fought wars, ruled a pack that never bowed to me.

Treated me lesser than his subjects.

I didn't mind that.

But now: Eidlene.

Her name pressed against my ribs, squeezing the breath from my lungs.

“You said…” My voice cracked. I swallowed and tried again. “You said she was gone.” I desperately hung on those words.

“She was.” His jaw tightened. “Now she’s not.”

I straightened, forcing my spine rigid. Queens did not crumble. Even omega queens. Especially omega queens.

“You bonded with me,” I said. “You stood before the pack. You called me your mate.”

“I did.”

The past flickered—his hand clasping mine before the blood moon fire, the howl of approval, the way the pack had gone silent when they scented my weakness.

Omega.

The promises with excitement in his eyes.

What went wrong?

Why did the marriage that I suffered three years for it to take shape...suddenly...my hands dared shake by my sides.

Derula exhaled sharply. “Things change.”

I laughed. The sound startled me more than him. It came out thin, almost hysterical.

“What changed?” I asked. “Was it when I gave you my kidney? Or when I stopped producing pheromones and had to inject myself every month just to be touched by you?”

His eyes flickered. Just once.

Then they hardened.

“That was your choice.”

The words struck harder than any slap.

I remembered the sterile white room. The Blue Moon physician’s mask. The pain tearing through my side while Derula lay pale beside me, unconscious, dying. I remembered signing the consent form with shaking hands because no one else would.

I’m his queen, I had told myself then. This is what queens do.

My knees buckled. I caught myself before I fell.

“It’s not fair,” I whispered.

Derula’s head snapped up. “What’s not fair?”

The edge in his voice made the guards tense again.

I lifted my gaze to his. “You never let me leave. You never let me give up. And now—”

“Eidlene is pregnant.”

The word pregnant fell like an executioner’s blade.

“With my child,” he added.

Silence swallowed the room.

So that was it.

The whispers suddenly made sense—the sideways looks, the pity masked as contempt. The council meetings I was excluded from. The way his mother’s gaze always drifted to my belly and away again.

Childless.

“I can’t abandon her,” Derula said. “The pack needs an heir.”

I nodded slowly, as if my body had forgotten how to rebel.

“Let’s talk,” I said, even as something tore loose inside my chest. “I’m not leaving you.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.” He turned away, already done. “I’ve put up with this long enough.”

Put up with me.

The words replayed while memories bled through my skull.

Standing before the council when he was sick, lying through my teeth to keep the Rangers from sensing weakness.

Kneeling before his parents while they insulted my bloodline, my scent, my worth.

Lying on a table while healers sliced into me again and again, chasing a child my body could no longer make.

Put up with me.

I swayed.

“Eidlene can live here,” I said suddenly. The words tasted like ash. “You don’t need to move out.”

Derula turned back. Surprise flickered across his face—then relief.

“You’re… fine with that?”

I nodded. Once. Twice.

What choice did I have?

“I’m okay with it.”

My nails dug into my palms. Still no tears came.

He studied me for a long moment, then gave a short nod. “Good.”

That was how I lost my crown without ever taking it off.

......

Eidlene arrived at dawn.

She wore white.

The pack gathered in the courtyard, howling their approval as she stepped beside Derula, her hand resting protectively over her stomach. She didn’t look at me. She didn’t have to.

I stood behind them, shadowed, silent, already forgotten.

“She will be your Luna,” Derula announced.

Cheers erupted.

No one noticed when I stepped back.

....

They moved me from the royal chambers within the week.

A smaller room. A colder wing. Servants stopped meeting my eyes. Some laughed when they thought I couldn’t hear.

Derula laughed with them.

He stopped coming home at night.

Then one evening, as I crossed the penthouse balcony, the air shifted.

A presence.

Footsteps behind me.

I turned—

Hands slammed into my back.

The world vanished.

Wind screamed past my ears as the ground rushed up, merciless and fast. I hit with a sound I never heard, only felt—a rupture, a crushing finality.

Pain flared. Then dimmed.

Blood pooled beneath me, warm at first, then cold.

I tried to breathe. My chest refused.

I thought of the girl I’d been before him. Before crowns. Before love.

“I don’t want to die,” I whispered to no one.

The darkness answered.

.......

Voices dragged me back.

Angry. Sharp.

“What did you do to my wife?”

I gasped.

Air burned into my lungs like fire. I jerked upright, pain screaming through every bone. The room swam—silver walls, unfamiliar banners, kneeling figures.

“My king, we—”

“Silence.” The voice was lethal. Controlled. “She’s been unconscious for three days.”

Hands steadied me. Warm. Careful.

“I want everyone fired,” the man said. “Now.”

I blinked.

The scent hit me then—iron, pine, dominance so heavy it pressed against my skull.

Rangers Pack.

Enemy territory.

He turned toward me.

“My queen,” he said softly. “You’re awake.”

I froze.

Lucien.

The Lycan King who had terrorized Blue Moon borders for years. The butcher king. The enemy.

Yet his eyes—gods—his eyes held nothing but relief.

“If anything happens to my wife—” His voice dropped, dangerous. “There will be no place left to hide.”

The door creaked.

I followed his gaze.

Derula stood at the entrance, head bowed.

“My king,” he said to Lucien.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

Lucien’s arm tightened around me.

And for the first time since I fell, I felt something other than pain.

Shock.

CHAPTER FIVE

I'm good at this.

I told myself that as I kept on, kneeling there, feeling every pulse and tremor of him under my lips. I’ve always done this for Derula—hours spent at his feet, my body mapping his pleasure like it was an art form, an unspoken language between us. The rise and fall, the constant rhythm, became something I could lose myself in until the world outside disappeared. My hands, my mouth, my whole being were trained for this. Derula had taught me for years—how to move, how to give, how to make a man feel both wanted and worshipped, whether at a gathering, during meetings, or in the private shadows of his chambers.

Pleasure and devotion had been my craft, my identity. I was a servant, a lover, a muse. I was good at it.

"Ugh..."

He groaned out, shuddering as he released for the third time. That was the moment he finally pushed me away. I stumbled, falling onto the cold tiles, the chill burning through my fevered skin. His hands shot to my jaw, gripping it with force as he squatted in front of me, eyes blazing with something dark, something I hadn’t dared to face before.

"Where did you learn this from?" he demanded, voice low, laced with disbelief and fury.

"What?" I whispered, a twinge of fear coiling in my stomach.

"Don’t kid me," he growled, leaning closer, his glare cutting into me. "It’s true that you’ve been sleeping around with Derreck..."

The words landed like stones. My mind flickered, searching through memories, questioning every touch, every glance, every moment. Had I ever—no. Could I have? The thought itself made my stomach twist.

"What if I have?" I asked finally, smirking despite the tension. "I’m letting you touch me. Isn’t that what you should be grateful for?"

His eyes narrowed, nostrils flaring. The air between us thickened, suffused with raw pheromones that assaulted my senses. My body trembled—not with shame, but with something darker, something thrilling.

Before I could even react, he hauled me toward the bed, throwing me onto the sheets like a predator claiming his prey. His presence was overwhelming, every movement precise, calculated, dangerous.

He smiled, a smile that was both predatory and cold.

"This fall must’ve reset your head," he said, voice low, sharp, slicing through the haze in my mind. "At least I know you’re not pretending about losing your memory. But I need to teach you again… teach you what I’ve been doing since you were a child."

My pulse raced. My body coiled instinctively. Words failed me. The thrill, the tension, the threat—all of it mixed with a dark excitement I hadn’t felt in years.

"You let someone else touch you!" he hissed, every word a blade. "While you’re my mate, you let an Alpha from the rogue claim you!"

I gasped as his fingers moved inside me, swift and precise. Pleasure flared through me in jagged waves, unrelenting, foreign. I had never known Derula to do this—not like this, not with such intensity, such control.

"You never let me see your nakedness," he whispered, moving faster, "yet Derreck did. Guess what will happen to him?"

I smiled despite the sensations, the pleasure and the fear twisting together.

"Please kill him," I murmured, my voice trembling with a mix of defiance and need. "I don’t like the way he addressed me earlier."

He paused, every muscle in his body tense, a silent promise hanging in the air. The pleasure continued anyway, unrelenting, a cruel paradox.

"I should kill Derreck?" he asked, incredulous.

"Why not?" I said, my tone teasing yet deadly. "He touched what was mine. You should be raving—blood hot, teeth bared, running to him with fire in your eyes."

His hand clasped around my throat immediately as he slid his length into me, I buckled. My mouth shouted, he's too big, he was filling me up too much that I forgot to breathe. My stomach felt too full, my eyes rolled into my head.

"Ughhhh!!!" I groaned, my twenty five years of being alive flashing through me like wildfire.

I loved.

Broke.

Rejected.

Betrayed.

Died.

And now, I'm living a second life. That's what it seems to me. Not only am I living a second life, but maybe a worst life harder than the first; To make matters worse, I'm Lucien's bride. His queen, his Luna.

I clasped my hands around his neck, holding him close, demanding more. "Make me lose my senses till I have nothing else to live for."

I should be thinking of my next move.

I should think of ways to destroy both packs and save myself from the abuses I suffered.

Lucien must bend to his knees and worship me.

And as for Derula, he should be ready. He should be ready for me because I am going to be the reason why he loses everything. All that I helped him build, I'm going to take them back.

Lucien must kneel. He must worship me.

Derula must witness it all.

This was my second chance, my rebirth. And I would not squander it on anyone else.

I would bend the world to me.

I would make both packs crawl.

I would take everything.

AUTHOR’S POV

Nyra slept beside King Lucien, her body still, exposed in its vulnerability. Moonlight brushed over her skin, softening the sharpness of her presence—but not erasing it.

Lucien watched her like a man haunted.

Carefully, he pulled the sheets over her, shielding her nakedness as if it were sacred. He brushed her hair back, revealing her face fully.

His breath caught.

That face.

The same face that had ruled his thoughts for twenty-five years. The face that tightened his chest every morning. The one he had never escaped.

The seer’s voice echoed in his mind.

Your wife is dead.

The Moon Goddess walks again.

Lucien scoffed silently.

Impossible.

He kissed her forehead. Her cheek. The corner of her mouth.

“You’re Nyra,” he whispered. “You’ve always been Nyra.”

His thumb traced her cheek, memorizing her anew.

“How did you grow so much?” he murmured. “How did I miss this?”

He lay beside her, instinctively curving toward her warmth.

“You’re different,” he said quietly, irritation threading his voice. “And it angers me that you don’t remember me. That you look at me like a stranger.”

His jaw tightened.

“How am I supposed to tell you,” he muttered darkly, “that you don’t have a brother?”

Silence swallowed the room.

“You don’t remember us,” he continued. “How you clung to me. How you cried for me. How you chose me.”

His eyes hardened.

“How you fell in love with me.”

CHAPTER SIX

LOCATION: BLOOD MOON PACK

NYRA OF BLOOD MOON PACK

"Nyra?" He queried, furrowing his brows in confusion. "What sort of dream is that? The only Nyra I know is the Blood Moon Pack's queen, King Derula's mate," he said, while she sounded more confused. But she knew what she saw in that dream; she knew how she looked in that dream.

"Apologize to her this minute, Nyra."

"Derula," she remembered herself calling that name. "Derula, you don't mean I should..."

"What do you think I mean?" He sounded harsh while she screeched, her chest feeling heavy. She was burning so high even when this was just a dream; she felt her heart shaking with disgust and disdain, yet she couldn't speak. She lowered her head in a small bow.

"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable..."

"You didn't only make me uncomfortable; you made me nearly lose my child because of you," Eidlene whined, almost breaking down in tears as she turned to Derula, who was there to console her. And she, as invisible as a needle whose world was thrown into a haystack, had no clue on how to be found, claimed, or even needed. Does that mean that her times with Derula are forever over? When she haven't even figured out having a life that didn't belong to Derula.

All she did since she came into the pack was beg for approval, beg to be recognized, beg for her name to be spoken more than once. She wanted her fame to supersede as nothing but Derula's woman, Derula's queen. How will she start now? How will she start building her reputation now?

"Queen Nyra is really doomed down," she heard someone whisper as Derula led Eidlene away without even looking back, without stopping to snap her back to reality to indicate that all of this was a dream and never real. Could never be real...

"Is she even our queen now? Aren't you seeing our new queen at Derula's side? She's more or less a waste now."

"Don't you think this is better for the pack? If only she can leave us and stop gracing us with her presence too, we will be okay."

Nyra heard all of that and she dared not break down and cry. She walked away, heading towards the room she shared with Derula.

"What are you doing here?" Derula suddenly asked. He was half naked with Eidlene unclad and on top of the bed, frowning like a pest had come in again to disrupt her peace, especially now that she had an important conversation to have with King Derula.

"Uh..."

"This room doesn't belong to you anymore. I had my betas remove your things and move them to the guest room."

"Already?"

"What do you mean by already? You still think you have a place here?" he said, while Nyra's heart broke more, shaking with more pain than it could ever imagine. He seemed to sense it. "If you chose to stay and share, you know you have to accommodate Eidlene. She's the new bride and she's pregnant; she needs all the care she can get. You wouldn't know how that is since you have never had a baby before."

Was the last part supposed to sting, or comfort her, or make her feel better? She had no idea, but she smiled anyway. She smiled like that was the only option she had left.

"Alright, I will leave the two of you then to have fun," she said. She turned around, grabbed the doors, and came out, closing them behind her and pausing for a moment as it felt like her heart were being shaped like ice.

"I don't like her and I don't know what she's still doing here! You told me you'd get her out of my sight when I move into the palace. How come she's still here and you're still accommodating her!" Nyra heard the sharp yelling of Eidlene's voice.

"It's just for some time. You know she has no one else to rely on if not me. I can't just take her out into the street when she knows no one except me."

Just how did she make her life revolve around one person? King Derula?

Her legs led her away slowly, without bowing down to the exhaustion or the feelings. She dragged her feet to the supposed guestroom where she thought she would meet her things.

"This is not the room our king sent your stuff to," a maid instructed, running her eyes over her with no atom of the respect she used to have for the queen. "It's the one across the hall, just by the garden."

Nyra smiled and then nodded, dragging her feet to the end of the hallway. She opened the door of the guest room and the sheer darkness of the room made her heart stop. She gasped, her legs freezing as her eyes fed into the darkness. She clicked on the switch and the mess of the room nearly made her choke. The dust, the spider webs, the way her things were littered everywhere... in a room like this?!

She bit her lower lip. This is not the time to break; this is not the time to cry about injustice when there was no justice for her in the first place. Someone can only complain of how unfair it is when they've met fairness. She hadn't met that, so how could she say she's been treated unfairly?

She sighed and walked in, dusting and cleaning. She transformed the entire space into something sparkling, something that she didn't see hours before.

She took a shower and got to lie on her bed, the only peace she could find after all that had happened to her through the day, until her eyes drifted into sleep. She went to those familiar dreams where she always escaped, the dreams that made her not feel entirely worthless; a different world where she was everything she had wished to become.

"Navine was not found in the pack, Lyzara." The man who was the most handsome man, even more than Derula, stepped into the dream, towering over her as her face contorted with more confusion.

"There's no way you can tell me that Navine is not in the pack."

"Instead of worrying about Navine or dreams, why don't you worry about me more? Hm?" he asked, stepping closer to her. "You need to take a rest. I'm having a meeting with the councils. I don't want you barging in like you did last time. If you have some spare time, try taking your lessons on shooting arrows more seriously."

He turned to leave while she grabbed a hold of his hand.

"You really don't think... we... should consummate our marriage?"