Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 300

Chapter 297

Author’s POV

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The morning sun rises over the city, stripping away the illusions of the night. Across the grand, sprawling territory of the pack, the crisp dawn air carries an electric tension.

By morning, the entire pack is made aware of the monumental treason committed right within the inner sanctum of the Alpha’s estate.

The secure pack network buzzes continuously, digital files and ironclad audio logs circulating through every household, exposing the plot hatched against the Alpha’s family.

Inside the grand courtyard of the main pack fortress, the high-society elites and ordinary pack members gather in a silent, stunned circle. The atmosphere is heavy, suffocating

with a collective sense of profound disbelief and rising fury.

For years, this community looked up to Imema as an angelic,

pristine standard of high-society virtue-a fragile, grieving orphan whose supposed benevolence made her the perfect

candidate to occupy the seat beside the Alpha.

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But as the heavy iron doors of the detention wing grind

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Imema is escorted out onto the cold stone pavement

under a heavy guard of four elite pack executioners. She is completely stripped of every single asset, privilege, and title that she spent her entire life calculating to secure.

The designer silk gowns and high-end jewelry are gone, replaced by a plain, standard grey detention tunic that offers no comfort against the biting morning wind. Her hands are bound in heavy, cold steel disruptor cuffs, her knees trembling violently as the guards force her forward.

Her face is a mask of absolute, hollow desperation. The

practiced, sweet smiles and the manipulative, watery eyes that once held so much power over Aires fail her completely

now. When she catches the gazes of the pack matriarchs who used to flatter her at private tea circles, she finds

nothing but freezing, razor-sharp disgust.

They look past her as if she is a piece of toxic waste, their own snobbish pride instantly turning into a defensive, public rejection to save their own families from the fallout of her

scandal.

A collective murmur of deep satisfaction ripples through

gathering crowd as the guards push her toward the

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commoner from the gutter.

They laughed behind their lace fans at Talia’s quiet, unassuming nature, branding her an uneducated housewife who brought nothing but shame to the bloodline. But the harsh, unyielding truth of the morning forces every single elite wolf to confront the reality of their own blindness.

Talia’s innocence stands out like a sovereign, unassailable beacon against the dark corruption of the palace.

“It’s horrifying to think! Our poor Luna Talia silently bled her soul all those years, building a true home for her son and maintaining elegance through an entirely unjust exile… we were all fawning over that viper.”

“Exactly! This Imema was nothing but an artificial fraud. A parasitic monster hiding behind a calculated veneer of perfection! Can you believe she actually weaponized our own pack’s sacred resources just to fund an assault against our innocent Luna and a helpless five-year-old child? Not just any child, our future Alpha.”

“The woman we all dismissed as an unrefined housewife has risen to the status of an untouchable icon, while the golden girl of our elite circle is currently being reduced to nothing Ba

Pa wretched. bound criminal…hah!”

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“Move,” the lead executioner commands, his voice a low, rumbling growl that leaves absolutely no room for resistance. He grips Imema’s shoulder with a tight, unyielding force, ignoring her soft, pathetic gasp of pain, and shoves her into the dark, reinforced interior of the transport vehicle to await her official tribunal sentencing.

As the heavy steel doors of the van slam shut with a loud, definitive thud, the final execution of her social capital begins.

From the balcony of the high fortress, Aires watches the transport vehicle glide away through the iron gates. His features are carved from solid stone, his dark eyes completely dead, harboring a deep, internal torment that no amount of vengeance can ever truly soothe.

He turns back to his secure desk, where his Beta, Bruno, stands waiting with a stack of international financial files and legal decrees.

“The blacklisting,” Aires states, his voice a low, terrifyingly

calm whisper that makes the air in the office turn freezing

cold. “Execute the global orders immediately, Bruno. Leave absolutely nothing standing.”

With a single, definitive stroke of his pen, Aires signs the

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from every financial institution, every charitable foundation,

and every high-society registry across continents.

Every bank account bearing her signature, even those tied

to offshore shell companies financed by the Nelson family, is

permanently frozen by pack authority.

Furthermore, Aires officially and permanently withdraws all pack protection from her name. In the supernatural world, a

wolf stripped of their pack’s shadow is a carcass left for the

wolves.

By throwing her out of the bloodline’s protective umbrella,

Aires systematically leaves her entirely exposed to the full,

unchecked legal and social fallout of her actions.

Without the Alpha’s massive legal team to suppress the

details, the human police syndicates and the international

high-society tribunals are handed the complete, unedited

files of her connection to the underground mercenaries.

The gossip blogs and major media networks, which were once terrified of Aires’s commanding aura, are given full

clearance to print every single grotesque detail of her malice. By afternoon, her name will become synonymous with ultimate depravity, an international laughingstock Completely ruined beyond any hope of redemption.

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The social commentary whispering through the corridors

of the mansion is brutal and absolute. The high-society

elites, who once fed on Imema’s poisonous narratives, now

scramble to rewrite history, praising Talia’s undeniable,

majestic masterclass at the gala while throwing Imema’s memory into the dirt.

They realize, with a heavy sense of collective

embarrassment, that true nobility cannot be manufactured

by expensive perfumes or elite training. Talia possessed it all along, buried deep within her resilient, sovereign soul, while the girl they championed was nothing but a hollow,

venomous shell.

Aires walks to the edge of the balcony, the crisp morning wind whipping against his dark clothes as he stares out into

the empty, sprawling city. No matter what he does, he still

can’t undo the injustices done to Talia…

If only he had one chance…

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ifts 3:11

Nelson straight to

the underground mercenaries who cornered Talia at the 12th

intersection.

Odette thinks her family’s massive fortune and clean, high-society reputation make her a ghost in this city. She thinks she can hide behind Imema’s loud malice while quietly financing a horrific assault on her own stepsister from the shadows.

She completely underestimates the reach of the Capaldi

name.

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