Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Talia’s POV

I was trapped in the fire when my alpha mate finally came.

But he didn’t come for me.

He ran past me–and lifted another woman into his arms.

His first love. Imema.

“Imema, are you hurt?”

His voice shook with a fear he had never once shown me. I was lying three feet away, and he never looked down.

“Aires…” My voice scraped out, thin and raw. The fire was too loud. I didn’t know if he heard me at all.

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His men poured in. A boot came down on my hair, and the man didn’t even slow.

My wolf howled inside me.

*Mate. Why isn’t our mate coming for us?*

“Alpha, the emergency room is ready,” a beta said. 1/7

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“Get the best doctors in place,” he said, hoarse but iron. “Nothing can happen to her. Do you hear me?”

The words went into my chest like a blade and kept carving downward.

He never even noticed that his own mate was trapped in the same fire.

He turned toward the exit, carrying another she–wolf in his arms. Not me. Not his rightful Luna.

My wolf went still. I felt nothing but cold, even as the fire crept

up my arm.

He flickered in the light beyond the door–then was gone.

A beam cracked overhead and came down, snapping my ribs, pinning my legs beneath its weight. The pain whited out my

vision.

An ember dropped onto my cheek. My body began to feel weightless, as if something were lifting up and out of its shell.

I felt like I was dying.

When I woke, I was alone.

White light. The flat smell of antiseptic. No flowers. N cards3:16

Chapter 1

No one in the chair beside the bed. Just that hollow ache under my ribs that no breathing could fill.

I was seriously injured.

And neither my husband nor my son even knew.

A fire had nearly killed me–a fire I’d have walked out of without a scratch if my Alpha husband had spared me one glance. He’d chosen his first love instead. A she–wolf without a mark on her.

I couldn’t stay in that silent room. I held the wall and walked, step by step, into the corridor.

That was when I saw them.

Through a half–open door, Aires sat at the edge of a bed, cutting strawberries. He trimmed each stem, arranged each piece on the plate like it was the most important task in the world.

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Imema lay against the pillows, cheeks flushed, and opened her mouth for the berry he offered. My son sat on the other side, giggling, a spoon in his hand.

“Open wide–this one’s the yummiest!”

“Good job, sweetheart,” she said, ruffling his hair. “You’ll make such a good husband one day.”

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Chapter 1

“I’m going to marry you!” Aeson announced.

They all laughed. The sound came at me like needles.

What a happy little family of three.

And what about me?

I’m clearly Aires‘ Luna. His wife. Imema’s mother.

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But right now, I feel like a mistress–someone who can’t be seen in the light of day.

I turned and walked back, tears spilling over before I could stop them. I couldn’t bear to watch anymore.

Suddenly, my phone buzzed.

The piano studio downtown.

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“Mrs. Talia? A customer has taken a liking to the piano your mother left behind. Can we sell it?”

“Of course not,” I said. “Don’t let anyone touch it.”

“The customer said they’d arrive at four o’clock. Could you come

over?”

Horned to go–too fast.

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A medication cart came around the corner. A tray of glass shattered beside my hand; shards bit into my palm.

The corridor went still. Everyone stared.

Through the open door, Aeson’s head snapped toward the sound. “Mom?”

For a heartbeat his face was just confusion. Then it shifted into embarrassment as if I’d shamed him simply by being seen.

He looked away.

Aires rose, set down the plate, and crossed into the corridor. His shadow fell over me where I knelt in the glass.

He didn’t offer his hand. He just looked down at me, cold as

ever.

“Are you following me?”

I almost laughed. Following him. As if I hadn’t been three doors down, bleeding, while he sliced strawberries into neat little pieces for someone else.

“No,” I said.

“Then what are you doing on this floor?” His jaw tightened.

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Behind him, Imema had pushed herself up against the pillows, watching us. His eyes flicked back to her—just once. That was where his worry lived. “If you came to make a scene in front of her-”

“I didn’t come for anything of yours,” I cut in.

I pressed my bleeding palm to my chest and pushed myself to my feet. The glass shifted under me. I didn’t let my face change.

“Then why are you here, Talia?”

There were a hundred answers. Because the fire nearly took my life. Because I screamed your name until it burned away in my throat. Because I’m your wife, and you carried another woman past my body like I was a fallen beam.

In the end, I let just one of them out.

“I almost died,” I said. “Do you even care?”

He said nothing.

His face stayed calm. Unmoved.

I had my answer.

“…Never mind.” I pressed my bleeding palm to my chest. “I’m Ang. I only came to visit someone.”

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Then I turned my back on him and walked toward the elevator.

I don’t want to explain anymore. No one will believe me, and no

one will care.

I have more important things to do.

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