All Chapters of The Ruthless Alpha’s Omega Luna: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

I stare at Zane's offered arm like it's a snake about to strike. Taking it means accepting this charade, playing the role of willing companion instead of captive. But refusing means another power struggle I'm not sure I can win. My fingers tremble slightly as I place my hand in the crook of his arm, feeling solid muscle beneath the fabric of his shirt. He's warm, too warm, his alpha heat radiating through my palm like a brand."Good girl," he murmurs, and I have to bite my tongue to keep from snapping at him. I'm not his pet, not his possession, not yet, anyway, despite what he might think.We step out of his office and into the corridor, where two guards straighten to attention. Their eyes flick to me with undisguised curiosity before quickly dropping in deference to their Alpha. I wonder what they see, a prized acquisition? A future Luna? A prisoner in a pretty dress?'His scent is everywhere,' Nyx complains in my mind, though there's something off about her tone. 'Marking everythin

I run my fingers along the spine of a first edition Austen, marvelling at the pristine condition of a two-hundred-year-old human book. The library has become my sanctuary in the twenty-four hours since Zane brought me to this gilded cage.Here, surrounded by the musty scent of aged paper and leather bindings, I can almost forget the claiming that awaits me tonight.Almost forget that I'm property now, first the Council's, now Zane's. Trading one owner for another doesn't feel like freedom, but at least books don't make demands or threats. They ask only to be opened, to be read, to be understood.I've tucked myself into a corner alcove where two bookshelves meet at right angles, creating a small private space with a comfortable armchair and reading lamp. My hiding spot, though I doubt anyone in this pack would call it that to my face. The Alpha's new plaything deserves respect, if only because of who claims to own me.Voices drift from the main area of the library, two pack members I d

I wake with a start, my heart hammering against my ribs before I remember where I am. The room is dim, moonlight filtering through gauzy curtains and casting silver patterns across unfamiliar furniture. For one blessed moment, my mind is blank, then memories crash back like a wave: Lucian's hands on my throat, books tumbling from shelves, the sickening crack of his neck breaking under Zane's grip.I press my palms against my eyes, as if I could physically push the images away, but they're burned into my brain now, permanent as the bruises that mottle my skin.The bedside clock reads 10:00 PM. I've been asleep for hours, my body demanding rest to heal after the attack. My fingers drift to my neck, probing gently. The skin is tender but not as painful as it should be. I know I should be grateful for my accelerated healing, but right now it feels like just another thing that makes me valuable to others, another reason I'm property instead of a person.'He'll come soon,' Nyx murmurs in my

I lean back against Zane's solid chest, my legs wobbly and unreliable beneath me. Without his arm locked around my waist, I'd collapse to the floor in an undignified heap. The bite mark on my neck pulses with strange heat that radiates through my entire body, sparking unfamiliar sensations that make me want to squirm. Through the fresh bond between us, I feel the echo of his satisfaction, his possessiveness, alien emotions that don't belong to me but somehow exist in my mind anyway.And worse, I can feel his arousal pressed hard against my lower back, an unmistakable reminder of what claiming really means.'It's done,' Nyx whispers in my mind, her tone holding something dangerously close to contentment. 'We're claimed. Protected.''Owned,' I correct silently, but the protest lacks conviction. Whatever this bond is, it feels different than I expected, less like shackles and more like an tether, connecting me to the massive predator behind me in ways I don't fully understand."Am I goin

The chains bite into my wrists as the guards drag Lora and me into the chamber. My knees slam against the marble floor, the impact jarring through my bones. But the physical pain is nothing compared to the hollow ache in my chest when I look at my mate beside me. Lora's face is bruised, her dark hair matted with blood at her temple, but her eyes, those eyes that have held mine across countless moonrises, still burn with defiance.Two days in Council custody.Two days of questions I refused to answer, blows I refused to yield to. Two days wondering if our daughter made it to safety, if our sacrifice meant anything at all.The Council chamber stretches before us, twelve members seated in a semicircle on raised platforms like judges in some perverse court. Light filters through stained glass windows, casting blood-red patterns across the marble floor where we kneel. In the centre stands Elder Nora Stone, her silver hair pulled into that severe bun, her burgundy suit immaculate as ever, a