Luna’s Legacy: Born in Lies

Chapter 3 | Cole

“He was later than expected. That meant one of two things.”

Neither of them good.

I didn’t move. I didn’t pace. I didn’t speak.

There was no point.

The outcome had already shifted the moment we went over that edge. Control hadn’t disappeared completely, but enough of it had slipped to make everything unstable.

I could feel it in the room.

In the way, nothing had settled since we arrived.

In the way Luca kept moving, as if standing still would make it real.

And in the way Benji watched us. Too aware. Not understanding, but knowing something was wrong.

He shouldn’t have been awake yet. That was the first problem. The second was that I hadn’t planned for this. Not like this.

Footsteps echoed down the hallway. Measured. Unhurried.

Right on time.

I straightened, not out of fear, but out of instinct.

The door opened, and just like that, everything aligned again. Not better. Not fixed. But structured.

Alpha Eldernoor stepped inside.

And whatever this situation had been, it wasn’t ours anymore.

He didn’t need to say anything. Didn’t need to announce himself. The room already knew.

Alpha Eldernoor.

He didn’t need to say anything. The space adjusted around him automatically. His gaze moved once, sharp and precise, taking in everything in a single sweep—the blood, the damage, the state of the room.

Then it settled on Benji.

Silence followed. Not empty, but controlled.

I moved first. A small shift. A tilt of his head. Respect.

“Alpha.”

Eldernoor didn’t answer immediately. He stepped closer, his attention flicking briefly to what was missing before returning to Benji. The reaction was minimal, but it was there.

“Alive,” he said. Not a question. A statement.

“Yes,” Cole replied.

Another step. Closer now.

Eldernoor’s gaze flicked briefly to the side, to what was missing, and something in his expression hardened.

Just for a second. Then it was gone.

“What happened.” His words formed a question. His tone a demand.

“Interference.”

A pause.

His gaze shifted to Luca, then back. Measuring. Confirming.

“He’s telling the truth,” Luca added.

The Alpha held Luca’s gaze a second longer. “Details.”

“We were run off the road,” I said. “West side. Duskryn territory.”

That landed. Not visibly. But I saw it. In the stillness that followed. In the way, Alpha Eldernoor didn’t move for just a fraction too long.

“Convenient,” he said. Flat. Cold.

“They were already there,” I added. “Too fast.”

His gaze flicked back to Luca again. Sharp. “You noticed.”

It wasn’t praise. It was confirmation.

“Yes.”

“We’ll deal with that later,” he said.

That wasn’t reassurance. It was a promise.

His attention returned to Benji. Who had gone quiet again. Watching. Trying to understand. Trying to keep up.

“You brought him back,” Eldernoor said.

Again, not a question.

“Yes.”

As the Alpha spoke his next words, he met my gaze, saying, “You nearly lost him.”

There it was. The blame.

I didn’t react. “Circumstances changed.”

Eldernoor’s gaze hardened slightly. “Circumstances always change.”

That wasn’t the point, but I didn’t correct him.

His eyes shifted again. Back to Benji. And this time, something else was there. Not just assessment. Not just control. Something… deeper. Recognition.

“You don’t remember,” Eldernoor said.

Benji swallowed. “No.” The word came out rough. Honest.

Eldernoor studied him for a moment longer. “You will.”

No comfort. No reassurance. A statement.

Benji’s hand tightened slightly against the sheets.

“Luna—” The name shifted the room again.

Eldernoor’s gaze snapped to him. Sharp.

“Where is she?” That question hit differently.

“In Valmer Port,” I answered.

Silence followed. He didn’t like that.

“She should not be there.” That wasn’t a suggestion.

I didn’t respond immediately. Neither did Luca. I didn’t speak until I knew exactly how I was going to say it.

“Alpha. Permission to explain.”

“Speak.”

“We approached him carefully,” I said. “Through proximity. No direct contact at first.”

Benji’s attention snapped to me.

“You mean… You were watching me.” Not a question.

“Yes. We needed to understand your situation before removing you.”

Benji let out a quiet, humourless breath. “Could’ve just asked.”

“No, we couldn’t. That would have drawn attention.”

That ended that.

“We built familiarity,” I continued. “A routine presence. No pressure. No sudden changes.”

Eldernoor didn’t interrupt. Didn’t react. But I could feel it; he was listening. Fully.

“We needed to assess the situation before making a move,” I explained. “The environment. The people around them.”

My gaze flickered briefly toward Benji. Then back at the Alpha.

“Josie and Alaric Varell,” I added. “Not careless. Not inattentive.”

That was an understatement.

My jaw tightened slightly. “She watches closely,” I continued. “Always has.”

Eldernoor made a low sound. Not quite approval. Not quite dismissal. Something in between.

“And the children?” he asked.

I didn’t hesitate. “They had different names.”

That got a reaction. Small. But there.

“Alphi and Luna.” I noticed the irony of their names.

A faint, almost amused sound left Eldernoor. Sharp. Dismissive. Of course. Names didn’t matter to him. Only the truth did.

I continued anyway. “They were close,” I said. “All of them.”

I shifted my gaze briefly toward Luca. Just for a second. Then back again to the Alpha.

“We integrated slowly,” I added. “No suspicion. No disruption.”

Eldernoor’s expression didn’t change. “And my daughter?” Viënna. Luna.

I exhaled quietly. “She was occupied.”

That sounded wrong. Even to me.

So, I corrected it. “Focused, school and work,” I explained further.

That was closer.

“She runs her own business,” he continued. “Clothing. Custom work.”

A pause.

“She’s good at it.” That slipped out. It wasn’t necessary to say, but I didn’t take it back.

His gaze sharpened slightly. “Relevant?”

I didn’t miss a beat. “Yes.”

“She’s intelligent,” I added. “Top of her class. Accepted into a program within the Veil.”

That landed. Not loudly. But I saw it. Recognition.

“She’s set to begin next year.”

Silence followed.

“And she has not shifted.” That wasn’t a question.

“No,” Luca said.

Eldernoor’s gaze flicked briefly to Benji again. “You.”

Benji looked up.

Eldernoor’s gaze settled fully on him now. “You have never experienced… a shift?”

The word meant nothing. I saw it immediately.

Benji frowned. “A what?”

There it was. Clear as anything. He didn’t know.

Eldernoor studied him for a moment longer.

“No.” Not answering him. Confirming it before he turned his attention back to Cole.

“And you chose to leave her.”

There it was. The accusation.

“Yes.”

“Explain.”

“She would not have come willingly.”

True. We all knew it.

“She would have resisted,” I continued. “Questioned it. Fought it.”

A pause.

“And that would have drawn attention.”

Eldernoor didn’t speak.

So, I kept going.

“Josie already monitors their movements closely,” I held his gaze. “Any disruption would have compromised both of them.”

That was the real reason. Not safety. Control.

“Removing Benji first allowed us to minimise exposure,” I finished.

Silence. Longer this time. Heavier.

Eldernoor studied him. Not the words. The decision. The outcome.

“He is here.” A statement. Not an approval. Not yet.

“Yes.”

Eldernoor’s gaze shifted fully on me.

I held it. Didn’t move. Didn’t look away.

“Next time,” he said, his voice colder now, sharper, “you do not decide what stays behind.”

That landed harder than anything else. I didn’t argue. Didn’t explain.

“Understood.” And just like that, it was done. But the air didn’t settle. Because we all knew this wasn’t over. Not even close.

Then his attention shifted again. To Luca.

“You will return,” he said.

Luca Stilled.

“To Valmer Port.”

“For what?”

“You will inform them Alphi is dead.”

Silence hit the room hard. Everything in me went still. Behind me, I heard Benji inhale sharply.

“What?”

“You will not draw attention back here,” Eldernoor continued. “No search. No questions.”

Benji’s voice came again. Tighter now. “You’re telling them I’m dead?”

Eldernoor didn’t soften. “Yes.”

“No.” Immediate. Sharp. “That’s not happening.” His father’s voice, in a sense, echoed in his own. His firm resolve stood out even more.

Eldernoor didn’t even look at him. “It already is.”

“That’s going to raise questions,” Luca said.

“Then you will answer them.”

“How?”

Eldernoor’s gaze didn’t shift. “You were there.”

That wasn’t an explanation. That was a directive.

“I’ll handle his departure,” I said.

Eldernoor gave a single nod. “You will ensure he is stable for transport.”

“Yes, Alpha.”

“You return with me.”

“Understood.”

Silence settled again. Final.

Benji looked between us again. Trying to piece it together. Trying to catch up to something that had already moved too far ahead.

“You don’t get to decide that,” he said. His voice wasn’t loud. But it held.

Eldernoor finally looked at him. Really looked. And for a moment, something shifted. Not softer. Never that. But acknowledging. “You will understand,” he said.

Benji shook his head slightly. “I don’t even know what’s going on.”

Eldernoor didn’t respond. Because to him, understanding wasn’t required. Only obedience.

I didn’t wait for dismissal. That wasn’t how this worked.

Eldernoor had given his orders. That meant the next steps were mine.

I shifted my attention to the hall, not as it was, but as it needed to be. Too many people. Too many unknown variables.

“Who’s in charge here?” I asked, already turning toward the Duskryn medic.

The man hesitated for half a second. That was enough.

“No one,” I concluded.

Not good.

I stepped closer.

“We need controlled access,” I said. “No unnecessary movement in or out. I want a perimeter on this floor.”

The medic frowned slightly. “This isn’t your territory.”

“No,” I agreed calmly. “But this is our patient.”

A pause.

“And if he doesn’t make it out of here,” I added, my voice still even, “it becomes everyone’s problem.”

That did the job.

Good.

The hesitation disappeared.

“I’ll arrange it,” the man said.

“Do it.”

I didn’t thank him. Didn’t need to.

I turned back to Benji.

He was watching again. Not confused this time. Evaluating.

“You’re not moving yet,” I told him. Not gently. Not harshly. Just clear.

He didn’t answer. Didn’t argue either. That was new.

I glanced at Luca. “Get me a timeline,” I said. “Transport, stabilisation, everything.”

He frowned slightly. “You already know it.”

“I want it confirmed.”

Because assumptions got people killed. We had already proven that.

Luca nodded once and moved.

I watched him go for half a second, then shifted back.

“Pain?” I asked Benji.

A beat.

“Yeah.” Honest.

“That means you’re still here,” I said.

His jaw tightened slightly. “Lucky me.”

I didn’t respond to that.

Instead, I adjusted the sheet where it had slipped, not out of care, but because exposure wasn’t useful.

Everything had a function. Everything had a purpose. And right now, his survival was the only one that mattered.

I straightened again, scanning the hall one more time.

Duskryn. Still watching. Still too calm.

Not random. Not a coincidence.

But that was a problem for later. Right now, we stabilised. We moved. We got him home.

And then we dealt with the consequences.

I felt it before anyone said anything.

The shift in the hallway. Not rushed. Not loud. Intentional.

I didn’t turn immediately.

If someone wanted to make an entrance, I’d let them.

Footsteps approached, slower than necessary. Measured. Deliberate.

Not a medic. Not a guard. Someone who expected to be acknowledged.

The door opened without hesitation. No knock. No announcement. Of course not.

The man who stepped inside didn’t need either.

Alpha Duskryn.

The room adjusted instantly. Not visibly, not so most would notice, but it happened. The kind of shift that came from instinct, not instruction. I turned then. Not fully. Just enough.

Recognition without submission.

His gaze swept the room once, taking in everything. The setup. The positioning. The people. And then it stopped. On me.

That meant we skipped the unnecessary part.

“You’re giving orders in my territory,” he said. Not angry. Not loud. Worse. Controlled.

I didn’t react to the tone. “Yes.”

A pause followed.

“You don’t ask permission?”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed slightly.

Behind me, I could feel Luca tense. Benji had gone completely still again.

Let them watch. Let them understand.

“This isn’t your concern,” I continued, calm, steady. “This is a medical situation.”

A faint, humourless smile touched his mouth.

“Everything that happens in my territory is my concern.”

True. But irrelevant.

“Then you’re already aware of the situation,” I said.

Another pause.

He stepped further into the room. Closer. Testing. Measuring.

“Alpha Eldernoor doesn’t usually send his Beta ahead to take control,” he said.

“He didn’t,” I replied.

That was enough to shift the dynamic. Slightly.

His gaze flicked past me, briefly landing on Eldernoor, then back.

So he had noticed. Of course, he had. What kind of Alpha would it make him if he didn’t?

“And yet,” Duskryn continued, “you seem comfortable making decisions here.”

“I make decisions where they’re needed.”

That landed. Not as a challenge. As a fact.

Silence stretched between us. Not empty. Weighted.

He was assessing. Not just the situation. Me.

That worked both ways.

“You were run off the road,” he said. Not a question.

“No.” The answer came easily. Flat. Final.

That got a reaction. Small. But there.

“No?” he repeated.

“No.” I held his gaze.

“That was not an accident.”

The room stilled. Even the air seemed to pause.

Duskryn’s expression didn’t change. But something in his eyes did. Interest. Or calculation. Hard to tell.

“Careful,” he said quietly.

“That sounds like an accusation.”

“It’s an observation.”

Another pause.

Longer this time.

Then, a slight inclination of his head. No agreement. Not denial. Acknowledgement.

“Then we’ll both be interested in finding out who made it,” he said.

That was the closest thing to cooperation I was going to get. For now.

“Good,” I replied.

His gaze lingered on me a second longer. Then shifted. To Benji. To the damage. To what had been lost.

And for the first time, his expression hardened. Not toward me. Toward the situation.

“You’ve made yourself clear,” he said.

“I usually do.”

A breath of something that might have been amusement passed through him. Then it was gone.

“See that you don’t forget where you are.”

“I don’t.”

That wasn’t reassurance. That was a boundary. Silence followed.

Then he turned. Just like that. No dismissal. No conclusion. He didn’t need one.

The door closed behind him.

I didn’t move. Didn’t speak.

-*-*-*-

Luca didn’t go far when things mattered.

I found him just outside the room.

Not waiting. Positioned. That was the difference.

Luca didn’t stand around when something needed to be done.

“It’s arranged,” he said before I could ask.

Of course it was.

“Transport?” I asked.

“Secured. We leave within the hour. Route’s clean, no direct exposure.”

Good.

I gave a small nod. “Medical?”

“Stable enough to move. Not ideal, but waiting makes it worse.” That matched my assessment.

“Escort?”

“Minimal,” Luca said. “Less attention.”

Better.

We stood there for a second, running through it without speaking. Checking gaps. Finding none that mattered right now.

“Duskryn?” I asked.

“They’re watching,” he said. “Not interfering.”

Yet. That went unsaid.

“They won’t,” I said. Not confidence. Expectation.

Luca’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer.

“You’re sure about that?”

“No,” I answered honestly. “But it doesn’t change anything.”

That got a quiet huff out of him. “Fair.”

A pause followed. Short. Functional.

“You’ll get him there?” he asked. Not questioning my abilities. Confirming the outcome.

“Yes.” No hesitation. That part wasn’t negotiable.

He nodded once. “Good.”

Another pause.

Different this time.

“The story,” he said.

There it was.

“You know what to say,” I replied.

“That he’s dead.”

“Yes.”

His jaw tightened slightly. “Luna’s not going to believe that.”

“No.” We both knew that.

“She doesn’t have to,” I said. “Everyone else does.”

Luca exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair.

“That’s going to be a problem.”

“It already is.”

He didn’t argue. Didn’t need to.

“Josie’s going to push,” he added.

“She always does.”

“And Alaric?”

“He’ll notice what doesn’t fit.” That was the real risk.

Luca nodded once, slower this time. “I’ll handle it.”

I studied him for a moment. Not to check if he could. To confirm he would. He met my gaze without hesitation. Good.

“Keep it contained,” I said. “No details you don’t need to give.”

“You think I was planning to over-share?”

“Yes.”

That earned me a look. Brief. Familiar. Almost enough to be something lighter. Almost.

“Right,” he muttered.

Silence settled again. Not uncomfortable. Just… there.

We had already said everything that mattered.

This was just confirming it.

“I’ll leave before word spreads,” he said.

“You should.”

“I know.”

A beat.

“Take care of him.”

“I will.”

No hesitation. No doubt.

That part was simple.

I held his gaze for a second longer.

Not as Beta. Not as part of the plan. As my brother.

“You’ll get there in time,” I said.

“I always do.” That was true.

He stepped back first.

Always did when it came to this.

Creating distance before it could turn into something else.

“Don’t let this blow back on us,” he added.

“It won’t.”

A pause.

“Cole.”

I didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. He nodded once, turned, and walked. No looking back. No hesitation. And just like that, we split.

One moving forward.

The other returning to clean up what we left behind.

One of us would bring him home.

The other would make sure no one came looking.