All Chapters of The Luna He Threw Away : Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

Six hundred people watched the man I was supposed to marry reject me on our wedding day.I stood there in the white silk gown that had once belonged to my mother before she was laid to rest. Around my neck rested the Voss family pearls. The Voss wedding crown, forged in 1847, sat atop my dark auburn hair. I had been promised to Alpha Caelum Sterling since I was sixteen years old, honoring my father’s final wish before he died.I had waited seven years for this day.The Sterling Pack ballroom glowed beneath the light of three hundred candles. White roses covered the marble floor like scattered snow. Every Alpha from the seven ruling families of Northern Hollow sat in the front row wearing formal ceremonial robes.I walked the long aisle alone.My father was gone.My mother was gone.My grandmother had passed in 2018.The only family member beside me was my cousin, Isolde, who followed a few steps behind in a pale blue maid-of-honor gown, carrying the train of my dress.At exactly 11:47

The Bentley crossed into the Free Cities as the pale light of evening settled over the horizon on the fifth day of the journey.The Free Cities according to every geography book about Northern Hollow that my grandmother had kept in the third-floor library of the Voss estate were five independent city-states that had broken away from the Northern packs in 1612.They were the only werewolf territory in the world that wasn’t ruled by Alpha bloodlines.Instead, they answered to a Lycan King.His name was King Lysander.He was thirty-one years old.He had governed the Five Free Cities for the last eight years.And according to every official Free Cities record, he was the only living Lycan in existence.I had never met him.And based on the plans laid out by a five-day Bentley ride, a cedar trunk packed by Margarethe Lindholm, and the Sterling Pack ledger resting beside me on the leather seat, I wouldn’t meet him for another two years.Mikhal Korven drove me to a modest townhouse on the ea

The meeting with Vael Investment Group took place on a Friday.It was over in eleven minutes.And by every measure of the reputation I had built in the Free Cities, eleven minutes was all it required.Vael Investment Group sat second on the Sterling Pack creditor list.Thirty-one million Free Cities credits. Interest set at eight-point-one percent. Four months overdue.The company belonged to two brothers, Pieter and Casimir Vael, ages fifty-one and forty-eight. They had inherited their grandfather’s respected banking house in 2019. Since then, every financial record I reviewed told the same story.Slow decline.Poor decisions.A steady collapse.By the time I stepped into their conference room on that Friday afternoon during my tenth week in the Free Cities, desperation was no longer their biggest problem.They were scared.I offered twenty-eight million credits for their thirty-one-million-credit loan.Ten percent below face value.Unlike the deal I had given Aldric Harren.During t

Five years passed. I will only outline their form. Across the three years stretching from the autumn of my second year in the Free Cities to the spring of my fifth, I expanded Voss Capital from a single-room office tucked inside a townhouse on Aldris Lane with one director and one caretaker into a sixteen-person investment firm operating out of a four-storey building on the principal financial avenue of the Second Free City. Our assets under management climbed to eighty-seven million in non-Sterling holdings. Twenty-three Northern pack families quietly placed their portfolios under our control, deciding the young Voss woman in the Second Free City had become the most dependable asset manager in all wolf-controlled financial territories. In that same stretch of years, I discovered something else. The man who had been serving me Liraeth red wine every Tuesday evening since the spring of my second year was not a bartender at all. He was King Lysander. The Lycan King of the Five Free

The Spring Alphas’ Council convened on a Thursday morning inside the Great Hall of Northern Hollow the same ancient stone chamber where Northern packs had settled conflicts for over four centuries. I stepped in at exactly 9 AM. I had chosen the charcoal power suit. The Voss family pearls rested cool against my throat. In my hand, I carried a slim briefcase holding forty-seven pages detailing the Sterling Pack’s debt portfolio under Voss Capital. I left the crown behind. The hall was already packed. All eleven Alpha families of the Northern Hollow sat around the long, curved oak table its surface worn smooth by time since it had first been placed there in 1631. The Sterling Pack. The Hallow Pack. The Vance Pack. The Greyridge Pack. The Morr Pack. Eleven in total. Eleven Alphas. Their Lunas at their sides. Their elders standing just behind them, silent and watchful. Caelum Sterling occupied the Sterling seat. Isolde sat beside him. And on her head She wore the 1847 Voss wedding