The Suppressed Luna: Awakening the Royal Blood

For three years, I swallowed bitter suppressant pills every morning. I dimmed my light and hid my identity as the Alpha King's daughter, all to be the perfect, submissive Luna for Santino.

I thought love was enough. I was wrong.

Santino brought a pregnant Rogue woman into our Pack House, claiming she carried his late Beta's child. But the way he touched her, the way he let her wear his shirt and sit at the head of my table, screamed the truth.

When I demanded respect, he didn't apologize.

He slapped me.

The strike echoed through the room, shattering the last of my restraint. He looked down at me with disdain, mocking me as a weak female with no family and no power. He even gave my dead mother's heirloom necklace to his mistress, watching as she broke it.

"You are nothing without my protection," he spat.

He truly believed I was a helpless Omega. He had no idea he was standing on land bought with my dowry, protected by Wards tied to my blood.

I wiped the blood from my lip. My eyes shifted from soft brown to a terrifying, glowing silver.

I reached out through the ancient mind-link he didn't know I possessed.

"Damien," I commanded the Royal Guard waiting in the shadows. "Destroy it all."

Santino wanted a war? I would give him an apocalypse.

Chapter 1

Alessia POV:

I stared at the small, white pill in the palm of my hand. It looked innocent enough, but it was the only thing keeping my world from burning down.

A suppressant.

Three years ago, I made a pact with my father. To prove I could lead with heart, not just heritage. To find a mate who loved Alessia, not the Princess. I had failed. For three years, I had swallowed this bitterness every morning. I did it to be the perfect, submissive Luna for the Silver Creek Pack. I did it to hide who-and what-I really was.

I swallowed it dry. The chalky taste lingered as I walked down the grand staircase of the Pack House.

The Pack House is the heart of any werewolf community. It is where the Alpha rules, where the high-ranking members live, and where the pack's business is conducted. It is supposed to be a sanctuary.

Today, it smelled like rot.

"She has nowhere else to go, Alessia. Have a heart."

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs. Santino, my husband and the Alpha of this pack, stood in the foyer. Beside him stood a woman I had never met, but my wolf bristled instantly.

She was petite, with teary eyes and trembling hands. But beneath the cheap perfume, I could smell it. The distinct, musky odor of a Rogue-a wolf without a pack, an outcast who had forsaken the laws of our kind.

"A Rogue, Santino?" I asked, my voice calm despite the turmoil in my gut. "You are bringing a Rogue into the Pack House? This violates the safety protocols."

Santino's jaw tightened. He was a handsome man, with the broad shoulders of an Alpha, but his eyes always held a glint of arrogance that I had foolishly mistaken for confidence years ago.

"She is not just a Rogue," Santino snapped. "This is Valentina. She was the mate of my late Beta, Marco. She is carrying his pup."

Valentina clutched her stomach, looking at me with wide, fearful eyes.

"Please, Luna," she whispered. "I just want my baby to be born in safety. Marco spoke so highly of you."

My inner wolf, usually sedated by the pills, stirred. She let out a low, warning growl in the back of my mind. Liar, she hissed.

In our culture, when a lower-ranking wolf meets an Alpha or a Luna, they bare their neck. It is a sign of submission, an instinctive acknowledgement of hierarchy. Valentina did not bare her neck. Instead, she looked at me, and for a split second, I saw a smirk curl the corner of her lips.

"If she carries a pack member's child, she can stay in the Omega quarters," I said, trying to maintain the order of the house. "We have guest rooms there."

"No," Santino interrupted, his voice booming. "She stays here. On the second floor. Beside our suite."

"That floor is for high-ranking officials only," I argued.

"I am the Alpha!" Santino stepped forward, his aura flaring. It was a pressure in the air, a wave of dominance meant to force submission. "And I say she stays where I can protect Marco's legacy. Do not challenge me, Alessia. You know you are too weak to withstand my command."

I lowered my eyes, not out of fear, but out of habit. The pills made me physically weaker than a normal Alpha female, and he used that against me.

"As you wish, Alpha," I murmured.

That night, the air in the house changed. Usually, the Pack House smells of pine and earth, the scent of our territory. But by dinner, Valentina's scent was everywhere. It was cloying, like over-ripe peaches rotting in the sun.

I tried to ignore it. I sat in the living room, reading a book, trying to be the dutiful wife.

"My ankle hurts so much," Valentina's voice drifted from the kitchen.

"Let me see," Santino's deep voice replied.

I stood up and walked silently to the kitchen doorway.

Santino was kneeling on the floor. Valentina was sitting on a chair, her leg extended. His large hands were rubbing her ankle, his thumbs digging into the muscle.

I froze.

To humans, this might look like first aid. But to wolves, scent is everything. Touch is everything. By rubbing her skin, he was mixing his scent with hers. This was grooming. It was an intimate act usually reserved for mates or parents and their pups.

He was marking her with his smell.

My fingernails dug into the wooden doorframe until the wood splintered.

Santino, I called out to him through the Mind-link.

The Mind-link is a telepathic channel that connects all members of a pack. It allows for instant communication, but between mates, it is supposed to be a private, sacred line.

What? His voice in my head was annoyed. He didn't even look up from her leg.

You are grooming her. Stop it.

I am helping a widow in pain, Alessia. Stop being so jealous and insecure. It is unbecoming of a Luna.

He didn't stop. His hand moved higher up her calf. Valentina threw her head back slightly, letting out a soft sigh that made my stomach turn.

I felt a crack in my chest. It wasn't a physical break, but something deeper. The bond, the respect I held for him, fractured.

I slammed the mental door shut. I blocked him from my mind.

He didn't even notice.

I went upstairs to our bedroom, but the bed felt cold. I didn't sleep. I listened to the sounds of the house. I heard his footsteps come up the stairs hours later. He didn't come to our room. He went to the guest room next door.

"She is scared of the thunder," he had told me once when I asked why he spent time with a female subordinate. There was no thunder tonight.

The next morning, I went down to breakfast early. The suppression pill sat on my nightstand, untouched. For the first time in three years, I left it there.

I walked into the dining room. Valentina was already there, sitting at the head of the table-my seat.

She was eating bacon, looking relaxed. But it wasn't her location that made my blood run cold.

It was what she was wearing.

She was wearing a white dress shirt. It was too big for her. The sleeves were rolled up.

It was Santino's shirt.

And it was soaked in his Alpha pheromones.

Alessia POV:

The scent hit me like a physical blow.

Alpha pheromones are powerful. They are meant to signal authority, protection, and possession. Seeing another woman wrapped in my husband's scent, in his clothes, in my home, was a declaration of war.

Valentina looked up, a piece of bacon halfway to her mouth. She smiled, a sticky, sweet expression that didn't reach her eyes.

"Good morning, Luna," she chirped. "I hope you don't mind. I didn't have any clean clothes, and the Alpha insisted."

"Get up," I said. My voice was low, vibrating with a tone I hadn't used since I left my father's palace.

Valentina blinked, feigning innocence. "Excuse me?"

"Get out of my seat," I commanded. "And take off my husband's shirt."

"Alessia!"

Santino walked into the dining room, his hair wet from the shower. He took one look at the scene-me standing tense and angry, Valentina shrinking back with a trembling lip-and immediately made his choice.

He moved to stand between us, his back to me, shielding her.

"What is wrong with you?" he growled at me. "She is a pregnant woman."

"She is wearing your clothes, Santino," I pointed out, my voice trembling with suppressed rage. "She is sitting in the Luna's chair. Do you have any respect for our laws? For our marriage?"

"It's just a shirt!" Santino shouted. His Alpha voice boomed off the walls, shaking the silverware on the table. "You are being petty. Valentina needed comfort. Her scent was... distressing her. She needed the scent of a pack leader to feel safe."

"She needs the scent of her Alpha?" I laughed, a dry, humorless sound. "Or does she want the Alpha himself?"

"My stomach!" Valentina suddenly cried out. She doubled over, clutching her belly. "Oh, the stress... the baby..."

Santino was at her side in an instant, his face full of panic. "Valentina! Breathe. It's okay."

He glared at me over his shoulder. "Look what you did. If she loses Marco's pup, it will be on your hands."

"There is nothing wrong with her," I said coldly. My senses were sharpening by the minute without the suppressant. I could hear her heartbeat. It was steady. She wasn't in pain; she was acting.

"Enough!" Santino roared. He unleashed his Alpha Command. It slammed into me, a heavy weight designed to force me to my knees. "I command you to apologize to her!"

I stood still.

The weight pressed down on my shoulders, trying to crush me. An ordinary wolf would have been flattened. An ordinary Luna would have bowed.

But I remained standing. My knees did not buckle.

Santino's eyes widened in confusion. He pushed harder with his will, but I just stared at him.

"I will not apologize to a home wrecker," I said clearly.

"You..." Santino sputtered. He turned back to Valentina, helping her stand. "Come, Valentina. You will not be treated like this. From now on, you will assist me with the pack finances. You need a distraction, and Alessia is clearly too unstable to handle the accounts right now."

I felt the blood drain from my face. The pack finances? That was my job. I had used my own personal inheritance to bail this pack out of debt. I had built their trade routes.

"You are giving her my duties?" I asked quietly.

"I am giving her a place in this pack," Santino declared. "This is her Den now, too."

This is her Den.

The words echoed in my mind. A Den is a wolf's safe space. It is shared only with family. By calling it her Den, he was effectively inviting her into our marriage.

He looked at me with disdain. "Maybe if you learned to be softer, more nurturing like her, you wouldn't be just a title, Alessia. You act like a cold statue. Sometimes I forget you are even a wolf. You have the spirit of an Omega."

The insult pierced through me. He thought I was weak because I chose to be gentle. He thought I was powerless because I hid my strength to protect his fragile ego.

I looked at the man I had married three years ago. I looked for the charming, ambitious man who promised to build a world with me. He was gone. All that remained was a fool seduced by a cheap trick.

I reached for my left hand.

"What are you doing?" Santino asked, frowning.

I gripped the silver band on my finger. It was the Luna's ring, passed down through the Silver Creek generations. It was supposed to symbolize eternal loyalty.

I pulled it off.

It hit the wooden floor with a hollow clink. It rolled and stopped right at Valentina's feet.

"If you want her so much," I said, my voice devoid of emotion, "you can have her. And she can have the ring. It's worthless to me now."

"Alessia!" Santino stepped forward, anger flashing in his eyes. "Pick that up. You do not walk away from me. You are my mate!"

"We were a political match, Santino. We were never Fated Mates," I reminded him. "And as of this moment, I no longer recognize you as my Alpha."

I turned on my heel and walked out of the dining room.

"If you walk out that door," Santino bellowed behind me, "don't expect to come back! You are nothing without my protection! You are just a weak female with no family!"

I didn't look back. I grabbed my keys from the hallway table.

He was right about one thing. I was walking out.

But he was wrong about the rest. He had no idea what kind of family I had. And he was about to find out exactly what happens when you wake a sleeping wolf.

Alessia POV:

I drove until the Pack House was just a speck in my rearview mirror. I ended up at "The Rusty Claw," a neutral bar on the edge of the territory. It was a place where wolves from different packs, and even humans, mingled.

I went into the bathroom and changed. I had a bag in my trunk-an emergency bag I had packed months ago, though I had hoped never to use it. I pulled out a dress. It was red, tight, and cut high on the thigh.

It was not a dress for a submissive Luna. It was a dress for a woman on the hunt.

I walked into the bar and ordered a whiskey. Neat.

The burning liquid felt good. It matched the fire starting to ignite in my blood. Without the pill, my senses were exploding. The music was louder, the lights brighter. I could smell the sweat, the cheap beer, the lust, and the fear of everyone in the room.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number I hadn't called in three years.

"Damien," I said when the line connected.

"Princess?" The voice on the other end was deep, rough, and instantly alert. "Is everything okay? Your vitals... the trackers show your heart rate is elevated."

"I'm at The Rusty Claw. Come get me."

"I'm five minutes away. Stay put."

I hung up. I shouldn't have been surprised he was close. The Royal Guard never truly left me; they just stayed in the shadows, respecting my wish for a 'normal' life.

The door to the bar opened.

The wind blew in, carrying the scent of rain, damp earth, and... cedar. Fresh, sharp cedar wood.

My breath hitched. The glass slipped from my fingers and shattered on the counter.

I spun around on the barstool.

A man stood in the doorway. He was tall, towering over everyone else. He wore a black tactical shirt that strained against his chest muscles. His dark hair was messy, as if he had run his hands through it a thousand times.

But it was his eyes that locked onto mine. They were the color of molten gold.

Thump-thump. Thump-thump.

My heart didn't just beat; it hammered against my ribs like a trapped bird. The air in the room seemed to vanish, leaving only him.

A jolt of electricity zapped down my spine, making my toes curl. My inner wolf, who had been growling in anger all morning, suddenly threw her head back and howled.

MINE! she roared. MATE!

It was Damien.

I had known Damien my whole life. He was my father's Gamma, the head of the Royal Guard. He had been my shadow, my protector, my annoying big brother figure.

But I had never smelled this. I had never felt this.

"Alessia?" Damien breathed. He took a step toward me, his nostrils flaring.

He smelled it too. The Recognition. It hit us both like a freight train. The suppression pills... they hadn't just hidden my wolf. They had dampened my ability to recognize my Fated Mate.

Damien closed the distance between us in two strides. He stopped inches from me. His hand reached out, trembling slightly, to cup my cheek.

"Sparks," I whispered.

As his skin touched mine, it wasn't just warm. It was electric. A pleasant, addictive tingling sensation rushed from his fingertips into my skin, healing the cracks in my soul instantly.

"I found you," he growled, his voice thick with emotion. "Moon Goddess, it's you. It's always been you."

He leaned in, his nose brushing against my neck, inhaling deeply. "You smell like winter and vanilla. You smell like home."

For a moment, the world was perfect.

Then, the door banged open again.

"Get your hands off my wife!"

The spell broke. I pulled back, gasping.

Santino stood there, his chest heaving. He must have tracked my scent. Behind him were two of his enforcers.

Damien didn't step back. He stepped in front of me. His posture shifted instantly from lover to lethal weapon. A low, menacing growl rumbled in his chest, vibrating through the floorboards.

"She is not your wife," Damien said, his voice deadly calm. "Not anymore."

"She wears my mark!" Santino shouted, pointing at the faint bite scar on my neck-a mark that was fading because the love was gone. "Alessia, get in the car. Now."

"No," I said, stepping out from behind Damien.

Santino looked at Damien, then at me. He sneered. "So this is it? You leave me and run to your... bodyguard? Are you sleeping with him?"

"He is my Fated Mate," I said.

Santino froze. Then he laughed. "Him? A Gamma? Don't be ridiculous. You are a Luna. You belong to an Alpha."

He lunged for me.

It happened fast. Damien moved to intercept, his claws already extending to tear Santino's throat out. But Santino wasn't aiming for a fight. He was aiming to claim. He grabbed my arm, his claws extending.

"You are mine!" Santino roared.

His claws dug into my flesh. Pain shot up my arm.

Damien roared, a sound of pure fury, grabbing Santino by the collar and slamming him into the bar counter. Wood splintered under the impact.

"I will kill you where you stand," Damien snarled, his eyes shifting to wolf-gold.

"Damien, stop!" I commanded, placing a hand on his tense bicep.

"He hurt you," Damien growled, not letting go.

"If you kill an Alpha on neutral ground without a formal challenge, you start a war my father doesn't need right now," I said, my voice steady despite the blood trickling down my arm. "Let him go."

Damien hesitated, his chest heaving, but he shoved Santino back.

"I'm taking her home," Santino spat, straightening his jacket. "Pack Law, Gamma. She's still legally under my jurisdiction until the divorce papers are signed."

Damien stepped forward again, radiating murder. "Touch her again, and I won't care about the law."

I looked at Santino, then at my arm. Then I remembered. My mother's necklace. It was still in the guest room. If I left now, Valentina would steal it or sell it.

"I'm going back," I said.

"Alessia, no," Damien argued immediately.

"I need my mother's necklace, Damien. I left it on the dresser. I am not leaving my legacy in that house with that woman."

I walked past a stunned Santino.

"Follow us," I mind-linked Damien. "But stay outside the perimeter. I'll get my things and walk out the front door."

Damien's jaw worked, his golden eyes burning with conflict, but he nodded once. "I'll be watching. One scream, Alessia. Just one, and I level the place."

Santino shoved me toward his car. "Get in."

I climbed into the passenger seat. I looked at my arm. Three deep gouges.

But then, I watched.

Usually, a wound like this would take days to heal. But now, without the pills, and having been close to my Fated Mate, the magic was surging.

Before my eyes, the skin began to knit together. The bleeding stopped.

My wolf was fully awake now. And she was hungry for blood.