His Silent Omega: The Hidden Luna's Ruthless Defiance

Adeline POV:

In the passenger seat sat my gift to Elliott—a massive oil painting carefully wrapped in brown kraft paper. It depicted the woods behind the Pack House, the exact spot where he first told me "I love you" four years ago. To surprise the Alpha who swore I was his entire world, I even skipped my Omega art class.

However, when I pushed open the heavy oak doors of the Carlisle Pack House, the one receiving the "surprise" was me.

The first thing that rushed into my nasal cavity was a scent. A cheap cherry blossom perfume, sickeningly sweet and cloying, violently clashing with my signature natural jasmine fragrance.

Then came the physiological strike. My inner wolf, Lyra, let out an agonizing shriek in my mind. The mate bond—the sacred tie connecting my soul to Elliott's—suddenly flared with a torturous, burning heat. But this heat wasn't from pain; it was from lust. His lust.

He was experiencing an intensely violent, beastly pleasure, and this damn bond was forcing me to feel every bit of it.

Barefoot on the freezing marble floor, I followed that nauseating wave of lust up the grand staircase. With every step, the sounds from the master bedroom grew clearer.

"Ah... Alpha..."

I froze outside the ajar door. It was Katy Lawson's voice. Elliott's seemingly innocent and harmless secretary.

"Call me Elliott," the man growled hoarsely, his voice dripping with a dark, dominant lust I had never heard before. In front of me, he was always the gentle, loyal mate, careful and incredibly considerate.

"E-Elliott..." Katy panted, her voice laced with calculated innocence and manipulative teasing. "I'm wearing the Luna's silk nightgown right now... I even used her jasmine body wash. Is this too bad? What if she comes back and catches us in her bed?"

The bedframe let out a violent creak that echoed down the hallway.

"Shut up." Elliott panted, the sound of flesh slapping against flesh echoing sickeningly. "Adeline is nothing but a boring, fragile Omega. Just a perfect Luna to be put on display for the public. But you... you know how to please a real Alpha. Your only job tonight is to serve me well."

Boom— The last string of sanity in my mind snapped.

This was the man who had loved me for four years? In his eyes, I was just a fragile porcelain doll that needed to be carefully worshipped on an altar, while he vented all his savage, animalistic lust on this cheap slut!

My heart felt like it was being sliced into pieces by a dull knife, the agonizing betrayal suffocating me.

I bit my lip so hard I tasted blood, turned around, and silently slipped into the adjacent study. I pressed the hidden latch behind the bookshelf—the secret window here offered a perfect, unobstructed view of the master bed.

With icy calmness, I pulled a prototype wide-angle micro-camera from my bag—the latest technology developed by my company. After perfectly focusing the lens, I hit record.

On the screen, their ugly copulation was broadcast in crystal-clear HD.

Evidence secured, I walked downstairs. I picked up the landscape painting I had spent six grueling weeks on, meant to be his anniversary surprise, and tossed it into the trash can outside like garbage.

A hollow thud. Four years of my youth, fed to the dogs, buried right here.

I got into my car and slammed the gas pedal, speeding away from that nauseating mansion. The mate bond was still frantically tearing at my nerves from his betrayal. Physiological tears smashed uncontrollably against the steering wheel.

Enough.

Deep within my soul, the ancient white wolf I had kept hidden for four years—Lyra—suddenly let out a soul-shaking snarl. No whimpering. No pity. Only the primal fury of an apex predator whose reverse scale had been touched!

I wiped my tears and glanced at my phone on the passenger seat. The live broadcast from the bedroom was still playing.

Right at that moment, a message from Elliott popped up at the top of the screen: "Baby, where are you? Happy anniversary, I miss you so much."

Looking at the beast on the monitor who had just thrust to his climax, a bloodthirsty smirk curled my lips.

My slender fingers quickly tapped the screen, replying: "Happy anniversary, darling. I've prepared a 'huge surprise' for you too. I guarantee you'll love it."

Message sent. I switched apps and dialed the most ruthless divorce attorney in the city.