To be His Luna Again Series

Beatrice’s POV

For the first time in three years, I could hear again.

The world felt alive in ways I had forgotten. The rustling leaves, the soft footsteps of pack members outside, even the faint murmurs of the wind—sounds I once took for granted—now wrapped around me like a long-lost embrace.

Regaining my hearing wasn’t easy. I had worked hard for this. The endless hours of auditory therapy, the frustration of silence, the hopelessness that had gnawed at me—I had pushed through it all. And today, I wanted to celebrate.

So, I planned a party. A surprise, something to show my gratitude to the Moonlight Pack, the home that had taken me in when I had nothing left. I worked with the omegas, carefully preparing every detail. The decorations, the food, the lights—I wanted everything to be perfect.

More than anything, I wanted to see him smile.

Alpha Clyden. My husband. The man who had saved me from despair three years ago when I lost everything—my son, my ex-mate, my hearing, my will to live. He had been my light in the darkness, the one who stayed by my side when I was drowning in grief.

Or so I thought.

A message from one of the omegas let me know everything was ready, and that Alpha Clyden had arrived. Excitement fluttered in my chest as I made my way to the packhouse, eager to see his reaction.

But the moment I reached the doors, my heart stopped.

“You did this for me? I can’t believe you even bothered to surprise me on my arrival, Alpha!”

A woman’s voice. Sweet, delighted, familiar.

Laughter followed—deep, masculine chuckles from several men inside. My breath hitched. My grip on the door tightened.

“O-Of course, I did it for you, Hannah,” Clyden’s voice rang out, warm and affectionate in a way I hadn’t heard in years. “You know how much I care for you.”

No.

The room blurred around me as realization slammed into my chest.

Hannah. I knew that name. I knew her. His first love. The woman he had never forgotten, no matter how much he claimed otherwise. And now, he even claimed that the surprise party I prepared for him was his plan for Hannah’s arrival.

I felt my stomach twist as one of the men inside spoke again, his voice dripping with amusement.

“Come on, Hannah! This Alpha friend of mine loves you so much, he sacrificed his Luna’s child’s heart just to save your mother.”

The air was sucked from my lungs.

What?

I swayed on my feet. My vision darkened.

No. No, that’s not true. That’s not—

But then Clyden laughed. He actually laughed.

“Damn, I already paid for that sin by marrying a widow, okay?” he joked.

My body froze. My blood turned to ice.

Sin? SIN?

They all laughed. The whole damn room erupted in amusement, as if my son’s death—my Matthew, my baby—was nothing more than a trivial inconvenience.

“Oh, how sweet of you,” Hannah’s voice purred. “Thank you for everything you did, Alpha.”

“I would sacrifice the world for you, Hannah.”

The cheers and applause that followed were deafening.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t think. Everything shattered. My husband—the Alpha who had held me as I wept over my son’s lifeless body—had been the reason he died?

My son… my poor Matthew… he could have survived? Clyden had chosen to take his heart and give it to Hannah’s mother instead?

Rage. Grief. Betrayal.

It all hit me at once, so violently that I felt like I might collapse. My hands trembled. My knees buckled.

No wonder he never left my side after Matthew died.

He had guilt. He had debt to pay. He had stood beside me like a leech, pretending to love me, pretending to care, because he owed me for what he had done.

He had learned sign language for me. Had comforted me, supported me, stayed by my side…

It had never been love. It had been atonement.

I felt sick.

I turned on my heel and ran. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t care. I just needed to get away before I lost my mind. My breath came in sharp, ragged gasps as I sprinted through the pack’s territory, my vision swimming with unshed tears.

I didn’t stop until I was deep in the forest, where the moonlight barely reached through the thick canopy. My body trembled, my hands clutching at my arms as I forced myself to breathe.

How had I not seen it? How had I been so blind?

My husband—no, my son’s killer—had been lying to me this whole time. And I had loved him.

A sudden vibration in my pocket snapped me from my thoughts. My phone.

Clyden.

My hands shook as I stared at his name flashing on the screen. I didn’t answer.

Then a message came through.

Clyden: Where are you?

Another.

Clyden: I made dinner for us. Come home.

A cold laugh escaped my lips. Dinner? He still had the audacity to act like everything was fine? Like he hadn’t just admitted to murdering my son for his precious Hannah?