All Chapters of The Feral Alpha’s Rejected Luna: Chapter 301 - Chapter 310

Diana I blink, brow arching. Magnus almost mated to someone? That’s news to me. Can’t find it in me to care. The first girl nods eagerly. “Exactly! And it was super suspicious. It was supposed to be this huge deal — even our Alpha was invited — but just a week before the ceremony, it was called off.” She waves her hands for emphasis; the others nod vigorously. She leans in, voice dropping. “I heard Natasha left Zervos and went back to the Silvanus pack, then mated with an Omega from Plena Luna.” Another round of wide eyes and startled gasps. “It’s obvious why the ceremony was canceled,” she smirks. “Natasha met her real mate. Everyone thought Magnus set the match because he hadn’t found his mate yet… but he had. And he rejected her!” The gasps turn into soft curses. I catch words like scum and bastard tossed out under their breath, and I have to bite my lip to keep from laughing. The third girl eagerly nudges the first. “And? And?! What else?” The first girl glances around, th

Diana The next Alpha my eyes land on pulls my attention instantly. He’s middle-aged, broad-shouldered, hulking—even among all these Alphas, he stands out as particularly powerful. His short-cropped hair and sharply cut features give him a severe, almost intimidating air. But what surprises me is the look on his face. Unlike the others, there’s no flicker of wariness, no veiled animosity in his gaze. Instead, he’s smiling. Calm. Almost amused, like he’s simply waiting for the meeting to begin, perfectly at ease. Intrigued, I shift my gaze to the third Alpha who stands out. And this time, I have to look twice. The Alpha, her Beta, and the two Gamma warriors flanking her… they’re all women. The Alpha meets my eyes directly—her expression steady, cool, unreadable. Then, with a small, polite nod, she acknowledges me before turning her attention back to Dom. All of this unfolds in seconds: quick assessments, sharp glances, the silent tension of predators sizing each other

Diana Her voice cuts crisply through the air. “The first time the Dark Mage was sealed… you said it took the Amadeus Alpha, the Primarch Arcana, and the Moon Goddess’s Priest.” Her eyes sweep the room, assessing. “Are you saying we’re going to repeat that now?” Dom nods once, calmly. “That’s right.” Alpha Livia’s brow furrows slightly. “And you, you’ll stand in for your ancestor?” Dom’s mouth curves in the faintest of smiles. “I will.” Her gaze sharpens. “That leaves the Primarch Arcana… and the Priest.” She casts a slow look around the table, then back at Dom again. “Until today, none of us even knew there was a Priest. Do you know where this Priest is?” Dom’s eyes flick briefly to me, and parts his lips to answer, “Yes. It’s-“ I finish for him. My voice quiet but clear. “-Me.” The room freezes. Every head turns. I keep my face composed, letting my voice carry evenly across the silent table. “Allow me to properly reintroduce myself. I am Diana Castellanos—Alpha o

Diana A low growl rumbles from Alpha Darius of the Plena Luna pack. His eyes glint with raw grief. “No. I will avenge my son. I’ll hunt down those bastards myself!” Dom’s sharp edge softens for the grieving father, though just slightly. His voice lowers, gentler, though still firm. “That won’t work, Darius. The best thing you can do — for your mate, for your pack — is live. The best thing you can do for your son is protect what’s left. If you rush out looking for a fight, you’ll only throw your life away. And that helps no one.” Alpha Darius’ eyes are red with rage and frustration. His trembling lips open and close for a moment before a strangled and pained sound is wrenched from him. Alpha Stefan however, is obviously not so easily convinced. He gives a sharp, sarcastic laugh. “You must be kidding me.” His eyes glitter with derision. “I’m not the kind of man who lets someone else decide his fate.” He sneers, gaze sweeping from me, to Dom, to Eleanor. “Especially not peopl

DianaEleanor’s smile is soft. Almost pleased. She lets him stew in his own sweat before she speaks.“Mmm… I think that should do.”Then, with a flick of her finger, the blade softens — the sharp crescent dissolves into formless wind, shimmering faintly as it coils around Stefan’s neck.I watch, breathless, thinking it will disappear — but instead, the condensed currents split, sliding smoothly along both sides of his throat, brushing the skin with the gentlest, most deliberate, and menacing caress, before they meet again behind his neck.There, in a heartbeat, the wind snaps back into form, reforming into a razor-fine blade.And then — faster than the eye can track — it whips across the room.CLANG.The windblade slices straight through a steel art sculpture standing by the far wall — a polished metal spiral about thirty centimeters wide — and cuts it clean in half.The halves clatter apart with a ringing sound, the edges gleaming sharp and fresh.The blade itself dissipates before i