The Alpha’s 90-Day Luna

The scent of cheap whiskey and betrayal is what finally woke me.

My head throbbed with a dull, silver-laced ache. I remember Riley Knox—my supposed best friend—toasting to my "last night of freedom" at the pack tavern. I must have shifted too close to my limit because the world was a blur. My mate, Blake Turner, had carried me back to our den in the city, tucking me into the furs of our bed.

I forced my eyes open, my wolf, Kaia, growling low in the back of my mind. She smelled something foul. Across the dimly lit room, two silhouettes were entwined, their shadows dancing against the stone walls in a passionate, frantic rhythm.

"Riley, stop," a voice hissed. It was Blake. "Ava just fell into a deep sleep. The moon-ale hit her hard."

He gripped Riley’s waist, pulling her closer instead of pushing her away.

"Scared she’ll catch us?" Riley purred, her voice grating against my ears like sandpaper. "You’re marking her as your Luna tomorrow. Give yourself to me tonight, Alpha. Let me have what's mine."

"You’re a little troublemaker," Blake murmured, his voice thick with a lust that should have been reserved for me. "Let’s take this to the bathing pool."

"No," Riley whispered, her fingers flying through the buttons of his tunic. "I want to do it right here. I want her to smell us while she dreams of a wedding that isn't happening."

I lay frozen, hot tears stinging my eyes. Three years ago, I was the pride of the Pacific Crown, a lead runway shifter whose grace was unmatched. I had stepped back from the spotlight, handing my contracts and my glory to Riley, all to help Blake build Turner Studios into a powerhouse. I had built his throne, and now he was using it to bed my shadow.

Blake headed toward the ensuite, and Riley lingered. She tiptoed to the edge of the bed, her eyes glowing a faint, mocking amber in the dark.

"I'm not letting that ceremony happen, Ava," she whispered, leaning down so I could smell Blake's scent all over her. "I’m carrying his pup. He belongs to my bloodline now."

The sound of the water running and their muffled moans broke something inside me. I wasn't just a discarded mate; I was a fool.

The next morning, the sun hit the Downtown Civic Registry with a cruel brightness. I stood by my car, clutching my cloak, waiting for the man who promised me a lifetime. I dialed Blake.

"Ava," his voice was clipped, devoid of the warmth he’d used for Riley last night. "Riley was injured during a rehearsal shift. She’s in the infirmary and needs my Alpha aura to stabilize. We’re pushing the bonding ceremony to tomorrow."

"There is no tomorrow, Blake," I whispered to the dead air after I hung up.

I turned to leave, my vision blurred by tears, when the air suddenly changed. The atmosphere grew heavy, charged with a static electricity that made the hair on my arms stand up. A scent hit me—sandalwood, rain, and sheer, unadulterated Alpha power.

A man was walking toward the registry steps. He wore a navy retro suit that looked like it was woven from midnight, a wine-red silk square peeking from his pocket. Every movement was predatory, elegant, and heavy with authority. Even behind dark lenses, his jawline looked like it had been carved from granite.

It was Connor Vale. The High Alpha of the Vale Hills Estate and the shadow-king behind Vale Media Group. He was a recluse, a wolf whose power was whispered about in hushed tones across every territory.

"Alpha Vale," his assistant, Jordan Reed, said nervously while scurrying behind him. "Lady Rose has not arrived. Her pack says she is... indisposed."

"Tell her family that if they cannot respect the timing of a blood-bond, they shouldn't bother showing up at all," Connor replied, his voice a deep, resonant growl.

"But Walter Vale—your father—was adamant. You must take a Luna today to secure the inheritance of the Vale territories. He doesn't care who she is, as long as the papers are signed by noon."

Connor stopped, his aura flaring. "Then pick a name from the registry list. I have thirty minutes."

My heart hammered against my ribs. He needed a Luna to silence his council; I needed a shield to burn my past to the ground. I wiped my face, straightened my spine, and stepped into his path.

"Alpha Vale," I said, my voice steadier than I felt. "Your bride is a no-show. My mate is a traitor. Why don't we sign the registry together?"

Jordan Reed gasped, but Connor slowed his pace. He pulled off his sunglasses, revealing eyes the color of liquid ink, swirling with a hidden, ancient fire. He looked me up and down, his wolf scenting mine.

"Get her file," Connor commanded.

Jordan scrambled with a tablet. "Ava Hart. Former lead of the Pacific Crown. Blacklisted by Nova Star Agency three years ago. Currently tied to Turner Studios."

Connor’s lips curved into a ghost of a smirk. "Not anymore. Let’s go."

Thirty minutes later, the ink was dry. I was legally and territorially bound to the most powerful wolf in the hemisphere.

As we sat in the back of his heavy black sedan, the silence was deafening.

"Alpha Vale," I began. "Thank you for the... arrangement. I have two conditions."

He loosened his collar, looking bored but dangerous. "Speak."

"First, keep this private for now. I want to handle my business with Blake Turner without your name tilting the scales. Second, I don't expect a 'true' mating. I won't interfere with your life, and I expect the same."

Connor turned to me, his presence filling the cabin, making my inner wolf stir in a way Blake never had.

"I can grant you a six-month window of secrecy," Connor said, his voice a low rumble. "But after that, I will claim this union publicly. Also, no Luna of mine lives in a separate den. Pack your things. Jordan will bring you to the Vale Hills Estate by sunset."

"Agreed," I said, stepping out of the car.

As I drove away, I saw Connor watching me from the window. I didn't know it yet, but I hadn't just escaped a predator; I had just climbed into the mountain with the King.