30 Days to Freedom: Abandoned Luna is Secret Shadow King

Chapter 1: The Night That Changed Everything (Olivia's POV) I watched the s*x tape of my mate, Alpha Theodore, and our son's nanny, Clara, all night. The phone screen glowed in the darkness, casting harsh shadows that made my bedroom feel like a stranger's. My fingers trembled-not from cold, but from something deeper. Something breaking. Each time I hit replay, I told myself it would hurt less. It never did. How many times can you watch your heart shatter before you stop recognizing the pieces? Last night, thunder had jolted me awake. The storm outside matched the chaos brewing in my chest as I reached across the bed. Theodore's side was cold. Empty. His scent still lingered on the silk sheets-pine and smoke, the smell I used to bury my face in-but he was nowhere. I should have known then. A wife always knows, doesn't she? But I'd become so good at lying to myself, at making excuses for the distance in his eyes, the late nights, the way he'd stopped touching me like he meant it. I searched his study first. Empty. Then I heard it-soft sounds drifting from the first floor. My bare feet padded silently down the marble staircase, each step pulling me closer to a truth I wasn't ready for. But isn't that always how it goes? We follow the pain because we're desperate to be wrong. Clara's door stood slightly ajar. Golden light spilled through the c***k, and with it came sounds that turned my blood to ice. Through the gap, I saw him. Theodore. My mate of ten years. The man who'd loved me since we were teenagers, who'd whispered promises against my skin, who'd held my hand through Leo's difficult birth. He was pressing Clara against the windowsill, her nurse uniform bunched around her waist as rain beat against the glass. The scene burned itself into my retinas, branding me with an image I'd never unsee. "Oh, Alpha," Clara gasped. "You're so much bigger than-" "Shut up," Theodore growled, his voice rough with desire. "You little slut, dressing like this-you just want me to f**k you senseless, don't you?" Each word was a knife sliding between my ribs. I wanted to look away. Run. Scream. But I stood frozen, a ghost haunting her own life. "Tell me," Clara purred, "does it feel better with me or with your precious Luna?" My lungs forgot how to work. The audacity of her question, the casual cruelty- "You're nothing but a toy, Clara," Theodore said, his hand rough on her breast. "A sexy little doll for me to use when I need release. Don't ever compare yourself to Olivia." For one stupid, pathetic second, relief flooded through me. See? He still cares. He still chooses you. Then Clara's next words destroyed even that fragile comfort. "Then why do you drug her every night? Why put sleeping pills in her precious tea if you don't prefer me in your bed?" The world tilted. My hand found the wall, nails scraping against expensive wallpaper as I struggled to stay upright. No. Please, no. "Because she's too weak to satisfy me," Theodore said, his thrusts growing violent. "Ever since she gave birth to Leo, she's been fragile. Pathetic. I need you, you slut, to let me f**k you." The tuberose tea. The tea he'd brewed for me with such tender care every single night for how long? The tea he said would help me recover from Leo's difficult birth. He'd looked me in the eyes, kissed my forehead, told me he only wanted me to rest well. It was all a lie. My hands shook violently as I pulled out my phone. Later, I wouldn't remember making the decision to record. Survival instinct, maybe. Or the part of me that already knew this marriage was over and needed proof that I wasn't crazy. That my gut had been right all along. I captured everything. Every angle. Every broken vow. The way they moved from windowsill to sofa to bed. His face contorting with pleasure-pleasure he'd denied me for months. Her legs wrapping around him, her nails raking his back the way I used to. "That's it," Theodore groaned. "Take it all, you little whore." "Yes, Alpha. Breed me like you bred your Luna." I stumbled backward, bile rising in my throat. When I finally made it to our bedroom- my bedroom, because how could it ever be ours again?-I collapsed onto the bed. I watched the video once. Twice. A hundred times. Trying to understand when I'd become so worthless to him. When my love had stopped being enough. Theodore never came back that night. Dawn broke through the windows, painting everything in soft gold and pink-colors that once would have seemed beautiful. Now they just illuminated the ruins of my life. And somewhere between the hundredth viewing and the sunrise, something in me shifted. Hardened. The Olivia who'd endured in silence, who'd blamed herself for not being enough, who'd made excuses for her mate's cruelty- That Olivia died with the sunrise. Theodore thought I was trapped. Weakened by the loss of my wolf during Leo's birth. Dependent on his protection, his provision, his mercy. But Theodore didn't know who I really was. Those years he thought I'd spent studying abroad? I'd been training with Matthew Kane's organization, becoming his most trusted second-in-command. The legendary "Cipher" wasn't just a ghost story whispered among pack wolves. She was me. My fingers trembled-from rage now, not grief-as I scrolled to a number I'd memorized but never dared call. The phone rang once. Twice. "Livvy? Is that you? You finally called me." Matthew's voice was exactly as I remembered. Warm. Strong. Safe. "It's me." My voice cracked despite my efforts. "Matthew, I... I need help. Can you get me out of here?" Silence stretched between us. Doubt crept in-six years was a long time. Did he still need me? Without my wolf, was I still useful to him? Please don't let this be another rejection. I can't take another one. "Of course," Matthew said, and I heard the smile in his voice. "I've been waiting six years for this call, Livvy. Give me one month to prepare. Theodore's control over the Northern Territory is absolute now-we need to be careful." Relief hit me so hard I nearly sobbed. "I want to bring my son. Is that possible?" "Two plane tickets," Matthew replied without hesitation. "Livvy, in one month, I'll come personally to bring you home." Home. The word tasted foreign and wonderful, like hope after years of despair. I walked to my desk with hands that finally felt steady and pulled out a calendar. My red pen circled a date thirty days from now-bold and defiant against pristine white paper. Thirty days until freedom. The countdown began now.