The Alpha's Rejected Luna: Her Revenge Begins

Lyra's POV

"Luna, I believe I've told you before that regardless of your reason for needing money, you must submit an application three days in advance according to the regulations."

Selene's voice cut through the phone like ice.

My knuckles turned white around the device as I stood in the hospital corridor, the smell of antiseptic burning my nose. "Please! A hundred thousand—just a hundred thousand. My mother was in a car accident. This is money to save her life! You're just a secretary. I can explain to Vern afterward, I'll submit whatever forms you need, but she's dying now—"

"That's not my concern."

Selene's laugh was cold and sharp. "And since it's a car accident, you should also provide the accident report and proof that the responsible party cannot be located. The pack has these rules for a reason, Luna. I'm sure you understand."

The line went dead.

I stared at my phone, my designer heels clicking against the linoleum as I paced.

The irony burned—I was wearing a dress that cost more than the surgery my mother needed, with diamond earrings that could probably pay for her entire hospital stay.

But I had access to all of it and control over none of it. I could use it, but I didn't own any of it. Nothing more.

Since becoming Vern's Luna four years ago, his stepmother Sylvia had made the financial arrangements crystal clear: as Luna, I would represent the pack's prestige, which meant looking the part.

Designer wardrobes, jewelry for pack functions, a luxury vehicle—all provided and maintained by pack funds. But having money I could actually spend? That required applications, approvals, documentation.

I had agreed. For Vern's sake, I had agreed to everything.

I had handed over the small savings account I'd had before our marriage, signed papers I barely understood, smiled and nodded and promised to be the perfect Luna.

I had never imagined those rules would become the cage that trapped me.

"You need to pay as soon as possible." The nurse appeared beside me again, her expression apologetic but firm. "Your mother's internal bleeding is getting worse."

"Please," I whispered. "Just a little longer. I'll get the money, I promise."

She hesitated, glancing back toward the emergency wing.

"I'll tell the surgical team to prep, but they can't begin without payment authorization. Hospital policy. I'm sorry."

As she walked away, an older woman in the waiting area muttered loud enough for me to hear. "Look at her, dressed like she's going to some fancy party. Designer clothes, expensive jewelry. But when her own mother is dying, she can't even come up with the hospital bill?"

"Shameful," another voice chimed in. "Young people these days have no sense of responsibility."

I felt their eyes on me, judging, condemning. My hands shook as I clutched my phone tighter.

Vern was my last hope—my husband, my mate, the Alpha who had sworn to protect me.

He usually didn't allow me to contact him privately during work hours, said it didn't look good for the hierarchy, but surely this was different. Surely when I explained that my mother was dying, that I needed him, he'd answer.

The call went straight to voicemail. Not even a ring—just that automated voice, cold and impersonal. "The number you have dialed is currently unavailable."

"He's blocked us," my wolf Elle said quietly in my mind. "I can't feel him anymore. He's shut us out completely."

There must be some mistake. Some technical issue.

I dialed again. And again. Each time, that same mechanical rejection.

My fingers trembled so badly I nearly dropped the phone on the fourth attempt.

"Please answer," I whispered, pressing the call button once more. "Please, Vern, please..."

Nothing.

"Unbelievable," I heard someone mutter behind me. "She's been standing there making calls for half an hour while her mother bleeds out. What kind of daughter does that?"

I wanted to scream at them. I wanted to explain that I had been trying, that I had been begging, that every second I spent on this phone was a second my mother didn't have.

But my throat closed up and no words came out.

The doctor approached, his shoulders set, his expression carefully neutral. He said quietly, "Your mother was in critical condition too long without surgical intervention. I'm very sorry—she's gone."

The words reached me as if from underwater.

My ears filled with a rushing sound and the edges of my vision blurred white. I slumped against the wall, the floor cold beneath me.

Someone was crying—high, broken sounds—and it took me a moment to realize it was me.

"Poor woman," I heard someone say, but the tone was more contemptuous than sympathetic. "Died waiting for her daughter to figure out how to pay. What a way to go."

My phone vibrated.

Through tear-blurred vision, I saw a notification from the hospital billing system. Not about my mother—about my sister Mia.

Her monthly treatment fee for Wolf Soul Deterioration Syndrome was overdue. A hundred thousand dollars. Vern had always paid it without question, an automatic transfer on the first of every month.

But now it was overdue.

I stared at the screen, my vision blurring again.

Why did everything happen at the same time? Why did the person who had promised to protect me disappear when I needed him most?

Why did the rules I had accepted for love become the reason I lost my mother?

The hospital corridor was still full of people—doctors, families, strangers.

Everyone continued living.

But my world stopped.

I forced myself to stand, my body heavy, my heart empty.

For four years, I had built my entire life around Vern, around being his Luna, around being his mate. I had given him my trust, my savings, my future. I had thought I was building a home.

But standing there, after losing my mother, I finally understood. I had built my life on something I could never control.

My phone rang again.

I stared at the unfamiliar number on the screen.

Who could it be? Who was calling me at a time like this?

My voice came out hoarse. "Hello?"

"Sweetheart. We've finally found word of you." The woman's voice was warm, almost too warm. "Your father and I want to make things right. Please come home with us, won't you?"

My mind went blank. I couldn't process what I was hearing.

"Who... who is this?"