Claimed by the Alphas

Chapter 2 The Useful Luna

Lyra POV

I jolted awake. Dawn's pale fingers stretched across the sky outside my window, casting long shadows through the room I'd called home for two years—Dominic's territory, Crimson Pine Pack. Nestled in the rolling hills east of Vancouver, Washington, it was supposed to be my safe haven. But two years in, it still felt foreign.

I pressed my palms against my eyelids, willing the images away—my father's massive gray form surrounded by enemy wolves, the sudden snap of our pack bond that told me he was gone, and my brother's last look before he lured the enemy away and vanished into the night, never to return.

Two years had passed since Dominic rescued me—injured, terrified, and cornered in the forest. Two years since I'd felt the electric shock of recognition when our eyes met—the unmistakable mate bond. Two years of marriage without being marked, two years of sleeping in separate bedrooms in this sprawling Alpha house, two years of waiting for him to claim me as his Luna in more than just name.

What am I doing wrong? The question echoed through my mind for the thousandth time.

The most confusing part was how attentive Dominic had been in every other way. He brought me breakfast each morning, personally selected books he thought I'd enjoy, and ensured I had everything I could possibly need. He'd sit with me for hours, discussing pack matters and asking my opinions as if they truly mattered. When I had nightmares, he'd come to my room and hold my hand until I fell back asleep.

Yet he never stayed. Never crossed that final boundary.

"You need time to heal," he'd say gently. "I won't rush you."

But I didn't need time anymore. I was ready—had been ready for months. Every time I tried to show him, he'd kiss my forehead like I was a child and retreat to his own quarters or to the small cabin deep in the woods behind Alpha house—the area he'd explicitly forbidden me from approaching.

"Private business," he'd said firmly when I'd asked. "That area is off-limits to you. Don't go near it." The Alpha command made disobedience impossible.

I sighed and slipped from bed, padding to the bathroom. The face that stared back at me from the mirror looked tired, green eyes shadowed. For a year, I'd filled my days with community college literature classes among humans who had no idea what I was. The distraction helped, as did my quiet mission to find Jason. Unlike Father, I never felt the bond with my brother snap completely. He could still be alive.

My human friend at college—an intelligence analyst who had no idea he was helping a werewolf—had promised to discreetly look for any signs of my brother. The thought gave me hope.

Today was the full moon, the night of the Moon Gathering. Despite being Luna in title, I had no real duties. At first, I'd been grateful for Dominic's apparent concern for my traumatized state, but as months passed and I healed, I'd asked repeatedly to take on some responsibilities.

Finally, just last month, he'd grudgingly allowed me to help with preparations for pack ceremonies. Simple tasks, really, but they'd given me purpose. A place in the pack that had never fully accepted me.

I dressed quickly and headed toward the pack hall, eager to start my limited duties. The morning air carried the scent of excitement—wolves always grew restless as the full moon approached.

"Luna." Marcus's voice stopped me before I reached the hall. Dominic's Beta approached with his usual severe expression. I'd never been able to read him well.

"Good morning, Marcus. I was just heading to prepare for tonight's Gathering."

He shifted uncomfortably. "That won't be necessary. Alpha has requested that you remain in your quarters today and rest."

"Rest? But I feel fine—"

"It's an Alpha command," Marcus interrupted, his voice carrying the edge of Dominic's authority. "He insists you rest for the day."

My wolf bristled at the dismissal, but I nodded, forcing a smile. "Of course. If that's what Alpha wants."

As I returned to the Alpha house, a small flicker of hope sparked despite my better judgment. Perhaps tonight would finally be different. Perhaps Dominic had a surprise in store for me.

I spent hours preparing myself, taking a long bath scented with lavender and wild rose, carefully applying makeup, selecting a deep emerald dress that brought out the color of my eyes. I styled my brown hair in soft waves, the way Dominic had once absently mentioned he liked.

The house grew quiet as pack members left for the Gathering. Hours passed as I waited in the living room, excitement gradually giving way to doubt, then disappointment. The moon climbed high in the sky, its pull on my wolf growing stronger, yet I remained alone in the silent house.

It was well past midnight when I finally heard the front door slam open. Dominic stumbled in, reeking of whiskey and something medicinal I couldn't place. His amber eyes were unfocused, his movements jerky.

"You're still up." His words slurred together. "Good."

My heart sank. This was not the romantic evening I'd imagined. "You're drunk."

"Not drunk enough." He laughed harshly, stalking toward me with predatory intent. "You look beautiful."

His tenderness was so familiar, so much like the daily affection he showed me, but something felt different. There was a desperation in his eyes I'd never seen before.

He grabbed my wrist, pulling me toward him. His scent—usually comforting pine and rain—was tainted by alcohol and desperation.

"Not like this," I pushed against his chest, conflicted. Part of me had waited so long for his attention, but not this way. "You're not yourself..."

"I am exactly myself," he growled, his eyes flashing red.

My wolf urged submission to our mate, while my human side recoiled. The mate bond hummed between us, electric and insistent after being ignored for so long. His mouth found mine in a bruising kiss as he pressed me against the wall.

"Maybe this is what we need," my wolf pleaded.

I didn't fight when he lifted me, carrying me to his bedroom—a room I'd never been invited into before. Two years of waiting, and this is what it had come to: a drunken, desperate coupling. My resistance weakened, trapped between the mate bond's pull, my wolf's desire, and that foolish, persistent hope that this might change everything.

"Dominic, is this what you really want?" I whispered as his hands roughly tore off my carefully chosen dress.

"Yes! I want to fuck you!" he growled, his cock thrusting rapidly inside me. His climax hit, cum shooting into me as he shouted, "I married that bitch Lyra just because she was still of use to us! She's nothing but a slut! I always love you, Isabella..."

What? Tormented by the pleasure of my climax and his words, I tried to push Dominic away but couldn't. Tears streamed silently down my face. I should have been screaming in ecstasy, but shock and grief left me voiceless. Because I was the bitch he called Lyra...

So, the question is, who the hell is Isabella?