The Luna He Never Wanted

ATTRACTION.

JASON.

My office was quiet, just as always.

Only the soft scratching of my pen broke the silence as I signed another report; that's what I've been doing all day. Patrol updates, resource reports, and territory disputes. Normally, work helped clear my mind, but today, it didn't.

My thoughts melt, drifting back to last night, to Rosalie lying pale on the bed, and Sarah standing silently by the door. My jaw clenched slightly, and I pushed the thought away and reached for another document. Then my office door opened slowly.

I frowned because only one person could do that, and that was my grandmother, Stella.

“Good evening, grandmother. What can I do for you?” I asked her.

“Jason,” she said as she entered, her voice firm and controlled.

I leaned back in my chair, studying her expression. She looked displeased, my grandmother rarely came to my office unless something or someone bothered her.

“I raised you to be a better man than what I'm seeing today,” she said slowly.

She stopped in front of my desk, and rested her hand on the surface. “What exactly did you do to your wife?” she asked. My brows pulled together.

The question sounded less like curiosity and more like disappointment.

The first thought that came to my mind was that Sarah had gone to complain to her, and it made a angry feeling rise in my chest.

Was she that childish?

“I see,” I said coolly. “So she went crying to you.”

Stella blinked in confusion. “What?”

“Isn't that why you're here?” I continued calmly. “She told you about last night.”

For a moment, my grandmother stared at me, then her expression changed slightly. “What happened last night?” she asked me, and it was my turn to be confused.

“Is that not why you're here? Because she told you what happened?”

“Sarah didn't tell me anything,” my pen paused in my hand.

“What?”

“Sarah hasn't said anything about you.”

The answer surprised me more than anything. If Sarah hadn't told her anything, then why was she here? I leaned back in my chair, crossing my arms.

“Then maybe you should ask her what she did to Rosalie.” Her eyes narrowed.

“Rosalie again?” she asked quietly. “What does Rosalie have to do with this?”

She sat down carefully on the chair beside her.

I let out a quiet scoff because I could hear the dislike in her voice anytime she mentioned Rosalie’s name. It wasn't news that my grandmother didn't like her.

“She purposely burned Rosalie’s hand last night,” I said in a flat tone. Stella stared at me like I had said something impossible.

“That doesn't sound like Sarah, and what was Rosalie doing in your matrimonial home last night?” she asked.

“Are you saying I'm lying?”

“Im saying Sarah is not that type of person,” she said firmly, her voice carrying a tone of confidence. The certainty in her tone irritated me more than I expected.

“You seem very sure,” I said, leaning forward.

“I am.”

“Well, her hand didn't burn itself.” My grandmother crossed her arms, looking as calm as ever. .

“And Sarah told me nothing about it.”

“Of course, she didn't. She knew she was wrong,” my voice hardened at the thought of everything that went down last night.

“Before we speak of blame,” she said carefully, “tell me something first,”

“What was Rosalis doing in your house last night?” she asked me again.

“She was not feeling well, so I brought her to the house to look after her,” I explained.

“And where did she rest?” Stella asked.

“In our room,” I said, and for the first time, real disappointment appeared on her face.

“Jason…..” she sighed softly.

“You brought another woman into the bedroom you share with your wife?”

“It was temporary.” I replied.

“That is not the point,” her voice wasn't loud, but it carried weight. “You placed another woman above your wife in her own home.”

“Thats not what happened.”

“Isnt it?” her eyes searched mine. “You believed Rosalie immediately, did you give Sarah the opportunity to explain herself?”

I said nothing, and that answered her question.

“Jason,” she continued quietly. “Sarah is your partner, your wife, your mate.” her voice softened slightly.

“She should be your priority, the person you protect first.” my jaw tightened.

“You clearly favour her,”

“Yes, I do favour her, is there a reason I shouldn't?,” she replied immediately without hesitation.

“At least you know you are.”

“Of course I am, I have every reason to favour her. Sarah is your partner. The wife and mate of my grandson. Am I supposed to hate her? Of course, I love and favour her like my daughter,” she said, sounding sad.

“And yet you treat her like she's nothing,” she added.

“But thats not true. You're exaggerating,” I said simply.

“Am I? Tell me honestly, Jason. How many more times are you going to let Rosalie manipulate you?” The question hit me harder, and I frowned.

“That is ridiculous.”

“Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it is painfully obvious,” she said, her eyes searching my face carefully.

“Rosalie was hurt.” My fingers tightened around the pen in my hand.

“And Sarah wasn't?” Stella said quietly.

The words made me pause, and images flashed through my mind: Sarah standing silently in the hallway, her hand Red, and Simon telling me to bring her in for a check-up because she was lean.

I pushed the thought aside.

“The situation was different,” I said stubbornly.

“You hurt that girl so badly that she went to hide herself at my tea party to cry,” Stella said in a sad tone.

She cried? What the f**k? Something uncomfortable stirred within me, but I kept my gaze neutral.

“And she said nothing about you, not a single complaint, the poor girl even defended you,” she said softly.

“Jason, she's your partner; she doesn't deserve to be treated like this.” Grandmother sounded tired.

“She deserves more than the scraps you're giving her, and I hope it isn't too late by the time you realise that.” and without another word, she walked out.

—————————-

By the time I reached the house, my anger had already worn thin; my grandmother's voice echoed in my mind.

How many times are you going to let Rosalie manipulate you?”

I pushed the thought away as I stepped into the house. Rosalie wasn't manipulating me. I chose to be there for her. I owed her. The house was silent, too silent. My jaw tightened, and I had come back with one mission: to confront Sarah. What she did to Rosalie yesterday crossed a line, and if she thought she could compete with Rosalie for my attention like that…

She was wrong.

Rosalie had nearly died saving my life years ago. The scar on her hand was proof of it; that kind of loyalty wasn't something I could ignore. Sarah should understand that. I walked further into the house, loosening my collar slightly. The faint smell of food drifted through the air.

Dinner.

My steps slowed as I reached the doorway, and then I saw her—my wife.

She stood near the gas, stirring something gently in the pot. She hadn't noticed me yet, but her dress caught my attention immediately. She wore a nightgown that accentuated her curves. The silk fabric clung to her figure as she moved, outlining the natural curve of her waist and wide hips.

Attraction to her had never been the problem; I was attracted to her quite alright, and the movement of my c**k in my pants proved that. My wolf stirred instantly.

Eric: Mate.

The low voice echoed in my head, and I frowned softly. I had come here angry and ready to confront her, but the sight of her standing there and cooking dinner in that gown made something in my chest shift.

Sarah turned slightly, noticing me standing in the doorway, and she jumped, her eyes widening.

“Oh Goddess, Jason. You scared me,” she said, putting a hand to her chest.

Her voice was soft and careful, almost cautious.

“Why are you dressed like that?” She normally didn't wear stuff like this around me.

“I didn't know you would be back early. I'll go and change it now,” she said, walking back to the room, but I covered the distance in minutes and held her back.

Silence stretched between us, my wolf pushed again, restlessly, repeating mate over and over again. He wanted to mark her. Her body stiffened when I moved into her personal space. The small reaction only made my tension worse.

“You caused quite a scene yesterday,” I said coldly.

“I told you it wasn't intentional,” she said with her head lowered.

“Thats not how Rosalie remembers it.” I saw how her face fell at the mention of Rosalie. She didn't respond, and the quiet between us grew heavier. I looked at her, her hair was dropped down today, something she didn't normally do, did she parade our house in gowns this hot when I wasn't around?

And that dress—

Eric surged forward again.

Eric: Mine.

The word echoed strongly, and before I could stop her, I reached for her by her neck, pulling her closer to me. Sarah gasped softly as my hand closed around her tender and beautiful neck.

“Jason—”

But I had already pulled her closer; her body collided with mine, and I could feel her full breasts splayed on my chest. Her scent engulfed me immediately. She felt warm and soft, my c**k hardened into its full length and the control I was trying to keep snapped. I pulled her by the neck and kissed her.

Her body felt so soft against me. I dipped my hand into her hair and pulled her closer. For some weird reason, I wanted her in my skin. I wanted to break skin, she moaned when my teeth tugged at her lips. I felt a metallic taste, and I knew I drew blood.

She wrapped her arms around my neck and kissed me harder, our tongues playing chess against each other. I needed to feel her bare skin against mine. I tightened my hold on her neck as my other hand trailed down her chest to her full breasts. I pulled her gown down enough to spill her full breasts out. I pulled away from her and stared at the work of art in front of me.

Without thinking, I bent my head to her t**s and sucked one of her taut n*****s into my mouth. f**k. She tasted so f*****g sweet.

She dipped her hands into my hair and tugged, moaning and whimpering. The f*****g problem was that she was so responsive to me.

Fuck me, I couldn't wait anymore, and I carried her and flung her over my shoulder. She shrieked, and I slapped her ass, feeling it jiggle against my face. f**k.

I took her to our bedroom and f****d her hard enough to satisfy the growing need in my blood and veins, but when we finished, strangely. I wanted more.

And for the first time in months, I slept like a f*****g baby.