The Alpha's Secret Fake Rogue Luna

Seraphina POV

The heavy scent of crushed valerian root and chamomile wasn't enough to mask the cloying, overly sweet floral perfumes of the two she-wolves standing near the kitchen island.

"Did you hear Kael snapping at the border patrol yesterday?" Katya whispered, leaning closer to Lila. "The Alpha's wolf is completely feral. It’s been six months since Chloe’s rejection. He needs a Luna to ground him before he loses his mind."

Lila scoffed, her eyes darting toward me. "Well, he certainly won't find one in a filthy Rogue. I still don't understand why he lets *that* stay in the Pack House."

I kept my head down, carefully pouring the boiling water into the porcelain teapot. Being a wolfless Rogue meant I didn't have an Inner Wolf to bare its teeth or growl at their insults. I had no pack, no status, and no power. All I wanted was to do my chores, keep my head down, and earn the temporary sanctuary Alpha Damien had granted me.

Placing the teapot on a silver tray, I walked past them in silence, ignoring their sneers.

The atmosphere grew suffocatingly dense as I ascended to the top floor. The Alpha's office was a fortress of dark oak and leather, but it was his scent that truly dominated the space—a potent, overwhelming mix of sharp cedar, aged whiskey, and biting winter wind. It was a scent that demanded absolute submission.

Damien Blackwood stood by the floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the training grounds. His broad shoulders were tense, radiating a dark, volatile energy.

"Your tea, Alpha," I murmured, setting the tray on his massive desk.

I turned to leave, eager to escape the crushing weight of his aura.

"Wait, Seraphina."

His deep voice sent a shiver down my spine. I stopped, turning back slowly. Damien turned around, his piercing gray eyes locking onto mine. There was a calculated coldness in them today, masking the fractured soul beneath.

"There is an Inter-Pack Gala this Saturday," he stated, his tone leaving no room for interruption. "My mother is growing overly concerned about my... stability. More importantly, Chloe Richmond will be attending."

Just hearing his ex-fiancée's name seemed to drop the room's temperature. Chloe’s public rejection had nearly destroyed him, leaving a power vacuum that every neighboring pack was eager to exploit.

"I need a date," Damien continued, stepping closer. "And I have chosen you."

I blinked, my heart hammering against my ribs. "Me? Alpha, with all due respect, Chloe despises Rogues. Bringing me would be an insult to her."

"Exactly," a dark, dangerous smirk touched his lips. "Chloe prides herself on her pureblood lineage. Seeing me with a Rogue will shatter her arrogant ego. Furthermore, you are wolfless. You won't trigger any lingering, complicated mate-bond instincts, and you have no ties to the political ladder within my pack. You are a blank slate."

He was using me as a weapon. A disposable pawn in his game of vengeance.

"I don't want to be involved in pack politics,"