Luna wants nothing novel

Chapter 8 Third-person POV Isla had always believed that even if her mate bond with George existed only on paper, the pup growing in her belly would force him, at least temporarily, to give her a proper home. Yet even with his child inside her, he still pushed her away without hesitation. Was he really going to throw away all the years they had grown up together, just because she once abandoned him and chose someone else? How could he be so cruel? And then there was Margaret, that shameless she-wolf who had sat in her rightful Luna seat for eight whole years. George didn't even love Margaret.

Wasn't it only because he had been heartbroken and desperate? Only because Bluebell Pack had needed a political marriage for survival? Imogen could not watch this any longer. She rose sharply, shielding Isla behind her. "Who dares touch the bloodline of Bluebell Pack? George, don't forget, your grandfather and your parents are right here. This house isn't yours to rule." Even little Finley rushed forward, clinging to Isla's waist. "Daddy, don't hurt the baby in Mommy's tummy!

Don't hurt my little brother or sister!" Seeing Isla and Finley defending each other so desperately, and the stern expressions of his grandfather and father, George felt a deep, pounding headache. He shot Isla an icy, dismissive glance. "Fine. If you want to have the pup, then have it. Bluebell Pack will pay for the child's expenses. You won't lack anything." "But if you dare think about becoming Luna, you're dreaming." "And while you're pregnant, I'll send you to Australia.

If a single word leaks out and Margaret learns even half the truth, I'll make sure that 'problem' is taken care of immediately." He threw down the words like sharp blades, and slammed the door on his way out. Isla stood frozen, then collapsed weakly onto the sofa, biting back tears until her throat burned. George tore through the night, the engine's roar a pathetic echo of the panic screaming in his blood, speeding back to the home he shared with Margaret.

Chapter 2 5.76% He owned multiple properties under his name, but he had to admit, only this villa, the one where he and Margaret had lived the longest, ever felt like home. Maybe it was guilt, or fear. But he couldn't stop dialing Margaret's number as he drove, intending to tell her he was already on his way back, that she didn't need to worry. Yet no matter how many times he called, the line never connected. Anxiety swelled in his chest. His driving grew reckless; he ran through several empty red lights without noticing.

Only when he pulled into the driveway and saw the lights on in the living room and kitchen did he finally breathe. He hated to admit it, but when they first completed their mate bond, he hadn't loved Margaret fully or genuinely. But with time, he had become accustomed to her presence. To the late nights when she waited up for him with warm herbal soup. To the quiet domestic comfort she offered. "Margaret, I'm home." He walked into the living room, but it was empty. Calling her name, he headed toward the kitchen.

Coming around the corner, he nearly collided with someone, the housemaid who had worked there for many years. She looked just as startled. "Alpha, I thought Luna left with you this morning? Why aren't you together?" A buzzing panic rang in George's head. "Luna hasn't returned home at all?" He swept through the kitchen, dining room, study... every room was empty. His hands were slightly unsteady as he pushed open the bedroom door. The light wasn't on, and it was pitch black inside. He flicked on the light. Empty. The room looked exactly as it had that morning, organized, untouched.

Nothing out of place. He rushed to the walk-in closet. Everything Margaret owned was neatly arranged. Her clothes and belongings were still there. The maid, confused, helpfully suggested, "Alpha, why not call Luna again?" George fumbled for his phone, dialing once more. He even borrowed the maid's phone, but no matter which number he used, the result was always the same. Chapter 8 5.76% A cold, automated voice. A line that could not be reached. Margaret was gone. And he had no idea where she went, or why her phone would never connect again.

Chapter St 5.768 Cedella Cedella is a passionate storyteller known for her bold romantic and spicy novels that keep readers hooked from the very first chapter. With a flair for crafting emotionally intense plots and unforgettable characters, she blends love, desire, and drama into every story she writes. Cedella's storytelling style is immersive and addictive-perfect for fans of heated romances and heart-pounding twists.