บททั้งหมดของ The Alpha King’s Hated Mute Luna: บทที่ 1 - บทที่ 10

ALAYNA’s POV “Whore.” “Slut. ” “Pathetic mute bitch.” Whispers slice through the air and hit me the moment I step into the brightly lit ballroom. I take a deep breath and lift my head high as I make my way towards the main table, where Ezra, my husband sits. The verbal abuse does not affect me, at least, not anymore. I have gotten used to it after three years of marriage to Ezra Nightwalker, Alpha King of the North. I finally reach the grand banquet table and quietly take my seat. Laughter, loud and boisterous, fills the air as guests sip wine and congratulate Ezra on his latest conquest. “To cLord Ezra, the great Alpha!” they toast, and I lift my glass in sync, my fingers trembling just slightly.He has just conquered the Southlands, successfully taking over the Alpha King of the South’s throne. With his latest conquest, Ezra has made more enemies, but he has also gained immense power, power that no one would dare defy. His jaw is strong, his cheekbones high and his midnight

ALAYNA’s POVI stand in the middle of the room, with Drake beside me.The room is barren, its walls cold and uninviting. The cement floor is cracked in places, with faded marks of what was once a storeroom. There is only one small window, a narrow slit barely big enough for a hand to pass through. And through the window, a pale glow of moonlight filters into the space, casting long, distorted shadows across the floor.Outside, the sky is in turmoil, the thunder of an approaching storm reverberating in my chest, while lightning dances wildly, crackling against the horizon. But I can only hear the sound of my wild beating heart.This is not right.The man who held me hostage is nowhere to be found. Gone are the bloodstains that puddled the floor just moments ago. It is as if no one had ever been here.It does not make sense!My breathing quickens as I scan the room again, my mind racing to piece things together. I remember hitting him. I remember the weight of his body as he collapsed,

EZRA’s POV(Moments before Alayna is held hostage)I am Ezra , Alpha of the North and I sit at the head of the long banqueting table. My presence alone commands attention—black eyes like pits, a face carved from shadow.My dark hair falls just enough to graze my collar, completing the cold, dangerous image I have cultivated. The room hums with expectation, every eye on me, waiting for the words that will mark this night as mine.The banquet hall crackles with energy and laughter rings out as guests mingle, drink, and celebrate the conquest of the South pack—another victory for me.“Lord Ezra,” a voice calls out, the speaker approaching with a glass of wine in hand. The others follow in suit, a line of pack members and allies, all eager to pay their respects. Their movements are stiff, their smiles tight, as if they cannot afford to do otherwise. Fear lingers in their eyes, they dare not offend me.“To Lord Ezra, our great Alpha!” The toast is made. They all raise their glasses.I meet

ALAYNA’s POV (After Alayna’s mother leaves the clinic and Alayna is alone) My breath fogs the phone’s screen as it rings, each chime sending sharp, electric jolts through my veins. My fingers are trembling as I clutch the receiver, my knuckles whitening. It is ridiculous, really. What am I even doing? But then I remind my self of the reason. The reason for this call. Ezra. His name hangs in the air, suffocating. The man I married. The man I thought I loved once, but now I do not even know what to call him. He is the Alpha King of the North, ruler of the Nightfall pack, and I, his so-called Luna. A title that means nothing in the face of what has happened to me. In the face of how he treated me. The tension coiling in my chest feels like a lie—a byproduct of what I thought was terror, but now... now it feels like something more. Rage. I will be his Luna no longer. For years, I have let Ezra dictate my life, my choices. For years, I have been a shadow of the woman I coul

ALAYNA’s POVIt is not Ezra.A tidal wave of relief crashes into me like a tsunami and I sink onto the cold, tiled floor.Thank you…thank you Goddess of the Moon. It is not Ezra…thank you, thank you.Around me, the chaos continues. In the far corner, a nurse is suturing a deep gash in a man’s leg. A young woman beside her is being hooked up to an IV even as she cries in pain. I can hear the soft hiss of an oxygen mask being adjusted on another patient’s face as he moans. Yet, despite the urgency of it all, despite how wrong it is, I feel relieved. And grateful. Grateful that the man on the stretcher is not Ezra.Then I hear Mother’s voice, as clear as day, cutting through the chaos of the clinic.“A man with a golden eye was seen fleeing the banquet hall just before the explosion,” she tells one of the nurses, her tone casual, like she is gossiping about the weather. “Tall, thin and lean. Might be from an enemy pack.”I freeze. Golden Eye.Grabbing the handle of a nearby medical cart,