The Ghost Of His Unloved Luna

Jocelyn's POV

I died in an abandoned cabin in the pack's old lumberyard.

Wolfsbane burned through my veins. Pure silver chains bit into my wrists, charring the flesh down to the bone.

The news alarmed my husband, Alistair, the Alpha of the Riven Pack. Standing over my corpse, he couldn't fathom who would torture a woman so ruthlessly on his territory. Enraged, he swore to slaughter the killer himself.

He didn't know it was me.

I had been missing for seven days. Even with everyone telling him I was gone and something wasn't right, he insisted I was just throwing a fit.

That was until his mistress, Sylvie, ran to him in tears, clutching her cheek. She claimed I had publicly slapped her and thrown my late mother's necklace in her face.

Furious, he pulled out his phone to call me, demanding I crawl back and apologize immediately.

Instead, his Beta's trembling voice came through the speaker: "Alpha, we found this phone... in the abandoned cabin at the old lumberyard."

——

I floated just beneath the ceiling of the rotting cabin.

Looking down, I saw my corpse.

My face was slashed open by a silver-laced blade, completely unrecognizable. My wrists were mangled by the silver chains, the flesh burned to a necrotic black.

The cabin was packed with Riven Pack warriors.

"God, this is sick..."

"Under our Alpha's rule, our territory has always been safe. What kind of monster would torture a woman like this?"

Listening to their terrified whispers, my suspended soul felt a habitual pang of guilt.

Alistair, I'm sorry. I caused you trouble again.

Amid the gasps, the crowd parted.

Alistair strode through the broken wooden door. My husband. The Alpha of the Riven Pack.

His brows were locked in a tight frown, his eyes sharp as blades, staring fixedly at the gruesome mass of flesh on the floor.

"Alpha," Beta Darius stepped forward, unable to hide his horror. "The victim is a female, around thirty. Facial features completely destroyed. Severe silver burns on her hands—we can't extract fingerprints. We have to wait three days for the DNA match."

Darius swallowed hard, pointing at my corroded veins. "And she was injected with a massive dose of wolfsbane. The venom combined with the pure silver burns... she went through hell before she died."

Alistair's pupils shrank.

His ferocious Alpha aura exploded, suffocating everyone in the room.

"In my territory. Some deranged lunatic did this in my territory!" he roared, his eyes bloodshot with rage. "Lock down the scene! Find out who this woman is! I swear I'll rip this bastard apart with my bare hands."

I watched him swear vengeance for my brutal murder.

Yet, all I felt was a crushing, icy sorrow.

You don't have to swear, Alistair.

Because if you knew the unrecognizable corpse on the floor was Jocelyn—the wife you utterly despised—you'd probably just be disgusted that my ugly death stained your territory.

Alistair's cousin, Eamon Rainer, walked up. "You're investigating this yourself? Now? In three days, Jocelyn's tattoo parlor is having its grand reopening, and you two—"

Hearing my name, the Alpha, who was just enraged over an unknown victim, instantly radiated a freezing disgust.

"Don't mention that vicious woman right now." Alistair's voice dripped with impatience. "She literally angered my mother to her grave. I don't want to see her fake, pathetic face. I'm not going to her garbage shop. In three days, it's the grand opening of Sylvie's boutique. I promised I'd be there."

Eamon's face turned livid.

"Fake?" he snapped, pointing at Alistair's nose. "For five years, who cooked your meals? Who ironed every shirt you wore to the council? Six months ago, her appendectomy wound hadn't even healed, but because you casually mentioned wanting seafood soup, she stood for four hours making it!"

Alistair swatted Eamon's hand away with a sneer.

"It's just an act."

"She thinks a few hot meals and playing the victim will wash away the sin of killing my mother? Even if she dies, I will never forgive her."

He ruthlessly cut the conversation dead, turning back to Darius to refocus on the case.

"Any missing persons reported in the pack recently?"

Darius shook his head. "None, Alpha."

Alistair let out a mocking scoff.

"Tortured to death like this, and not a single family member steps up to report it. Just how cold-blooded is this victim's family?"

I stared at him blankly.

Yes, it is cold-blooded.

But he had no idea that the man so utterly indifferent to his own wife's disappearance was him.

Eamon suddenly froze, his expression shifting.

"Wait. Speaking of missing people..." Eamon stared intently at Alistair. "Jocelyn hasn't brought you lunch in four days. This isn't normal. She never missed a single day in five years, not even when she had a high fever, not even when you banished her from the estate."

Alistair tugged at his tie impatiently, scoffing at the concern.

"A few days ago, I just told her to be nicer to Sylvie, and she started questioning my relationship with her. This is just a pathetic stunt for attention. Don't think I'll beg her to come back over a meal."

"But Alistair, what if—"

Alistair's phone vibrated.

Glancing at the screen, the frost on his face melted instantly. He answered, his tone turning unimaginably gentle.