The Wolfless Contract Luna

Name: The Wolfless Contract Luna
Availability: InStock
Author: Bikly

Bikly

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Luna Revenge Abusive Love Badboy Betrayal

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Introduction

On the night that was meant to celebrate three years of vows, I walked into our chamber and found my husband tangled in the sheets—with his brother’s widow. Shock scalded my lungs; their laughter scalded worse. “Wolfless trash,” they sneered, turning my own marriage bed into a courtroom. Their plan was simple: brand me unfit, lock me away, and divide the Aurorawisp Pack—my birthright—between them. I ran barefoot through corridors I once called home, heart drumming two words: escape, revenge. At the edge of the territory, under a moon sharp enough to cut glass, I met the one man no wolf dares challenge—Alpha Ethan, sovereign of the northern wilds, power rolling off him like winter smoke. “Alpha,” I breathed, cheeks flaming, “will you help me end this marriage?” A slow, sovereign smile. “I can dissolve bonds, Madam…but I collect a price.” I lifted my chin, voice trembling. “I won’t pay with my body. I can offer coin—” “Keep your gold,” he said, gaze pinning me like a specimen of starlight. “I want one year. You at my side, my name on your lips, my mark on your wrist—contract Luna, nothing more, nothing less.” The night air crackled. One signature, and I’d trade a traitor’s ring for a tyrant’s collar. Yet if power is currency, perhaps the most dangerous ally is exactly the weapon I need. I extended my hand. “One year, Alpha. When the contract burns out, I walk free.” His fingers closed over mine—warm steel. “One year, Luna. Then we both decide what freedom means.”

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Chapter 1: Betrayal with Brother's Widow

Grace POV

Damien's hands are on her waist. His mouth crashes against Lilith's, hungry and desperate in a way I haven't seen in three years.

My legs won't move. The steam from the hot spring curls around them, and I can't breathe, can't think, can't do anything but watch my husband kiss his dead brother's widow like she's oxygen and he's drowning.

'This isn't happening.'

But it is.

*****

Thirty minutes earlier, Beta Luka nock on my door.

"Luna Grace." His voice comes out strangled. "Alpha Damien requests your presence."

My pulse jumps. "Where?"

"The hot spring. In Sunset Forest." He shifts his weight, still won't look at me. "He's waiting."

Heat floods through me.

'A surprise. He planned something after all.'

I smooth my hands down the black lace. The lingerie hugs every curve—Damien's favorite set.

I check my reflection one more time. Golden hair loose around my shoulders, the way he used to like it. Green eyes bright with something I'm trying to convince myself is excitement and not desperation.

Three years. Three years of being his Luna, his mate, his wife. I handed the pack I inherited to him and helped him manage its affairs.

Three years that should mean something.

The bond in my chest aches, dull and distant. It's been that way since his brother died. Since Damien took the Alpha title and stopped looking at me like I mattered.

'Tonight will be different.' and maybe—maybe tonight things go back to the way they were.

I'm already moving, grabbing the robe from the bed and throwing it on. The silk barely covers the lace, but who cares?

Damien's waiting.

Hope burns so bright it hurts. Each step feels like flying—desperate, reckless, alive. I don't feel the cold floor. Don't notice the omegas I pass. There's only the wild, painful hope clawing up my throat.

My chest feels light for the first time in months. The mate bond stirs—sluggish, yes, but there. Still there. And maybe tonight it can be strong again.

Please. Please let this be real.

Anticipation buzzes under my skin as I push deeper into the forest. My heart hammers with each step, hope and fear tangled so tight I can't tell them apart.

Then I hear it.

A moan. Low. Female. Drenched in pleasure.

The hope dies instantly. Violently. Like something precious dropped and shattered.

No.

A man's groan follows—rough, satisfied, achingly familiar.

Denial screams through me. No. No. No.

But my legs keep moving. Closer. I have to see. Have to know. Even as every instinct begs me to run.

The truth hits before I can stop it.

Damien.

Damien with his hands on a woman's body. Damien with his mouth on her neck, her jaw, her lips. Damien lifting her like she weighs nothing, positioning her, and the woman's legs wrap around his waist as he—

Pink hair. I see pink hair.

Lilith.

"Fuck, you feel incredible," Damien groans, his hips driving forward. The water splashes around them. "So tight. So perfect."

Lilith arches back, her fingers digging into his shoulders. "Damien," she gasps. "Oh God, Damien—"

"That's it." His voice drops to that tone, the one I remember, the one he hasn't used with me in forever. "Take all of me. Show me what you can do."

She does. Her body rolls against his, meeting every thrust with desperate enthusiasm. The sounds they make—wet skin, breathless moans, his grunts of satisfaction—echo off the rocks.

"You're so much better than her." Damien's words slice through the air. Through me. "Grace just lies there like a goddamn wooden block. No passion. No fire."

Lilith laughs, breathless and triumphant. "Poor Damien. Stuck with a Luna who can't even please her mate."

"Not anymore." He kisses her hard. "Never again."

The bond snaps.

Not breaks. Snaps.

Like a rope pulled too tight, too fast, and suddenly there's nothing but the recoil. Pain explodes in my chest—sharp, vicious, tearing. My knees hit the ground. The robe falls open, and I don't care, can't care, because my entire torso is on fire.

'Can't breathe. Can't—'

My vision blurs. The world tilts sideways.

The last thing I see is Damien's head thrown back in ecstasy, his body still moving inside the woman who isn't his wife.

Then nothing.