All Chapters of The Rejected Luna's Royal Revenge: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

YaraI stood frozen in the middle of our once-beautiful bedroom, the scent of roses now turning my stomach. Ian’s words hung in the air like smoke after a wildfire; thick, choking, and impossible to ignore.“You can’t be serious,” I whispered, my voice barely holding together. “You’re kicking me out of my own room? For her?”He crossed his arms, his tall, muscular frame filling the doorway like a wall I could no longer breach. Those grey eyes that once looked at me with nothing but love now held only cold affection. “It’s not kicking you out, Yara. It’s practical. Mira is carrying my pup. She needs comfort, space, and rest. The guesthouse is still a part of the mansion. You’ll be fine there.”Fine. The word tasted like ash.Tears spilled down my cheeks before I could stop them. “Three years, Ian. I stood by you through every battle, every late night planning raids, every moment you doubted yourself. And now, because some woman you met on a battlefield spreads her legs once, I’m s

RonanThe council chamber was thick with the scent of aged parchment and flickering torchlight. I sat at the head of the long oak table, jaw clenched as the elders droned on about border skirmishes and grain shortages. My mind, however, was miles away with Yara. It had been two long months since her last mind-link. Back then, her voice had been bright and hopeful as she begged me to convince Father to assign Ian the rogue wolf mission. “It’s a chance for him to prove himself,” she had said. “Father will finally see he’s worthy.”After days of persistent arguments and persuasion, Father had finally relented. Just as Yara had predicted, Ian returned victorious from crushing the rogues. Father was genuinely impressed — so much so that he had been secretly planning to merge a smaller allied pack into Shadowveil to enlarge Ian’s territory and was even preparing lavish gifts as a sign of acceptance. For a moment, it seemed like everything was falling into place for my sister.Suddenly, a

IanThe dungeon air was damp and thick with the metallic bite of silver. Torches flickered weakly along the rough stone walls as I descended the narrow steps, my boots echoing sharply in the silence. Yara had been rotting down here for two days, and still some small, foolish part of me expected to feel regret, hesitation, or maybe even a flicker of the love I once felt.But I felt nothing.I stopped in front of her cell. Yara sat slumped against the far wall like a broken doll, her once-beautiful silver gown torn and filthy, her long hair matted and tangled. When she lifted her head and saw me, those familiar eyes that used to look at me with such pure devotion were now filled with desperate, fragile hope.“Ian…” Her voice cracked, barely more than a whisper. “Why are you doing this to me? You know me better than anyone. I would never hurt an unborn child. Mira is lying. I swear on the Moon Goddess—”“Enough.” I gripped the silver bars, my voice cold and flat. “I’m not here to li

YaraThe next morning, sunlight filtered gently through the tall arched windows of my chambers, painting the golden tapestries in warm hues. My body still ached from the poison and the rejection, but the royal healers had done wonders. I felt stronger, though the constant nausea and dizziness worried me more than I let on.A soft knock sounded at the door.“Princess Yara,” came the soft voice of one of my personal maids. “The Royal Physician Elowen requests an audience for your morning checkup.”I sat up slowly against the pillows, still feeling the deep exhaustion in my bones. “Let her in.”The maid opened the door fully and announced in a clear, formal tone, “The Royal Physician Elowen and her attendants.”Physician Elowen entered first, followed by two younger healers in training carrying trays of instruments, herbs, and vials. They all bowed deeply before approaching the bed. Elowen had been with our family for decades — a trusted, no-nonsense woman with sharp eyes and gentl

YaraThe city hospital smelled of antiseptic and stale coffee. Fluorescent lights buzzed overhead, casting a harsh, sterile glow on the scuffed linoleum floors. I kept my hood low and scarf high as I approached the reception desk, my heart hammering against my ribs. No one here knew who I was, but I still needed to be careful. The receptionist, a tired-looking woman in her forties, barely glanced up from her computer. “Purpose of visit?”I swallowed, my throat dry. “Ultrasound test.”She typed something quickly, then handed me a clipboard with forms. “Fill these out. Take a seat over there. We’ll call you when it’s your turn.”I nodded, found a long row of metal chairs in the crowded waiting area, and sat down. The chair was hard and cold against my back. Around me, people coughed, flipped through old magazines, or stared blankly at their phones. The air tasted faintly of disinfectant and anxiety. I kept my head down, filling out the fake name and details with shaking hands.Ti