All Chapters of The Feral Alpha’s Rejected Luna: Chapter 91 - Chapter 100

Beta Marcus As my eyes adjust to the dim light, a sense of twisted satisfaction washes over me. The bastard who had been a thorn in my side for so long, who dared to challenge my authority, again and again, now hangs before me, broken and defeated. The man is suspended from the ceiling, heavy chains made of silver shackling his wrists before piercing through them. The silver in his bloodstream stopping his shift. The restraints hold him just high enough that his toes barely brush the cold concrete floor, denying him even the small mercy of standing to relieve the tension in his arms. His face is a mess of dried blood and swollen flesh, his eyes forced shut by the bruising. Fresh scars crisscross his bare torso, a testament to the brutality he's endured. He seems to be unconscious, unaware of my presence as I enter his personal hell. I take my time, savoring the moment as I leisurely stroll to the side of the room where a tray of instruments awaits. My fingers brush over them gen

Diana I step into the spacious closet, my fingers trailing over the soft fabrics of the clothes hanging neatly in rows. It's strange to think that these items are meant for me, chosen with care by Dominicus. The thought sends a flutter through my stomach as I select a comfortable pajama set – silky shorts and a matching camisole top. Returning to the bedroom, I freeze in my tracks. The enormous bed dominates the space, piled high with fluffy pillows and covered in luxurious sheets. It looks impossibly inviting, but as I stare at it, the reality of the situation crashes over me like a wave. We're going to be sharing a room. Sharing that bed. Me and Dominicus, together in this intimate space. My heart begins to race, and I can feel warmth creeping up my neck and into my cheeks. The enormity of what this means – what it could lead to – leaves me feeling dizzy and overwhelmed. Lost in my spiraling thoughts, I don't hear his approach until he's right behind me. His presence, so l

Diana When I wake up the next morning, I find myself alone in the large bed. The sheets beside me are cool, indicating Dominicus has been up for a while. Curiosity pulls me from the comfort of the bed, and I make my way downstairs. I find him in the kitchen, moving with easy grace as he prepares what looks like breakfast. The domestic scene before me makes my heart swell with warmth. Dominicus turns as I enter, a bright smile lighting up his face. "Good morning, Diana," he calls out, his voice warm and inviting. "Good morning," I reply, unable to keep the smile from my own face. He abandons whatever he was doing and comes towards me, something clutched in his hand. As he gets closer, I recognize the familiar shape and color of the purple flower he's been leaving for me. "For you," he says softly, holding out the delicate bloom. I take it, my fingers brushing against his as I do. The simple gesture feels different now, more intimate. Before, he would leave it by my bed, a

Beta Marcus My phone rings and I reach into my pocket and pull it out. It's been days since I dispatched the mercenaries to Garnet City, and I'm eager for news, my nerves frayed from the endless waiting. "Marcus speaking," I growl when I pick up, my voice rough with tension. The voice on the other end is tinged with excitement, "Sir, you're not going to believe this. We've struck gold." My grip on the phone tightens, "Go on," I command, barely able to contain my impatience. "Well, sir," the human mercenary begins, his tone cautious yet eager, "when you gave us just a name and a photo, I didn't think we'd have much luck. Garnet City might not be massive, but it's still got a few thousand residents. Finding one girl seemed like looking for a needle in a haystack." "Get to the point," I snap, impatience coloring my tone. He chuckles, a sound that grates on my already frayed nerves. "That's just it, sir. We didn't have to look at all. Your girl? She's something of a local celebrit

Diana The gentle rustle of pages fills the air as I lose myself in yet another book. Over the past few days, I've discovered a newfound love for reading, devouring the volumes Dominicus gifted me with an insatiable appetite for knowledge. Who would have thought that I, once barely literate, would find such joy in the written word? I twirl a delicate purple flower between my fingers, its sweet fragrance a reminder of this morning's gift. Without thinking, I break off its stem and tuck it behind my ear, the soft petals brushing against my skin. A contented smile plays on my lips as I snuggle deeper into the plush couch, reaching for the book I had started earlier: "The Comprehensive Guide to Werewolf History." As I leaf through to my bookmarked page, I can't help but feel a thrill of excitement. There's something empowering about learning the history of my kind, about understanding where we come from. I settle in, ready to immerse myself in the past. The chapter begins with a discla