30 Days, I'm Not Your Luna

Chapter 6

Theo’s Pov.

The champagne in my glass tasted like bile as I stood in the center of the hall with a fake smile plastered on my face. Beside me, Claire played her role perfectly, beaming at the crowd, acting the part of the excited fiancée.

But she leaned in close to my ear, keeping her voice low so no one else could hear. “She looks like she’s shattering, Theo.”

I stiffened, my eyes darting toward the corner of the room where Selena stood. She was alone, clutching a glass of water. She looked beautiful in a haunting, tragic way. Her grey dress was simple, but on her, it looked elegant. Her dark hair fell in soft waves around her pale face. She looked like a queen.

"Don't look at her," I murmured to Claire, forcing my gaze back to the guests. “If I show weakness now, my father wins.”

"I don't understand why you can't just tell her." Claire hissed, her tone filled with genuine sympathy. Claire was kind. She only agreed to this charade because she was trying to help me, but I do think there's more to it. “She thinks you hate her. Look at her, Theo. She’s being humiliated.”

"The timing isn't right," I said through gritted teeth. “If I tell her, she’ll try to help. She’ll try to be brave. And I need her to stay away from all of this so she’ll be safe when I take my father down.”

Claire sighed, shaking her head. “You’re playing a dangerous game. You might save her life, but you’re going to lose her heart.”

I didn't answer, I couldn't. Because deep down, I was terrified she was right.

I watched as the jewelry designers I had invited began to pack up their displays. Claire had put on a great performance, demanding Violet Stone a demand I knew would stall the engagement process because Violet Stone was notoriously impossible to find.

It bought me time.

But as I scanned the room, my blood suddenly turned hot.

Selena wasn't alone anymore.

While the rest of the pack ignored her, treating her like a ghost, the men in the room certainly saw her.

An Alpha from the Western territory, a man named Marcus, known for his wandering eye had cornered her by the display tables.

My grip tightened on my glass as Marcus leaned in close to her. Too close.

He was holding up a sapphire necklace and gesturing with his hands as if he were explaining it to her. I strained my hearing, focusing my wolf senses on their conversation.

"You see the cut on this one?" Marcus said, his voice dripping with arrogance. “It’s a marquise cut. Very rare. It takes a true expert to appreciate the clarity of a stone like this. But a pretty little thing like you probably just likes the sparkle, right?”

My jaw clenched. He was explaining jewelry to Selena. He was lecturing the woman who probably knew more about that gem than he did because jewelry was always her passion before she quit.

But Selena didn't correct him. She didn't snap at him or walk away. Instead, she tilted her head, her eyes wide and innocent.

"Oh, really?" She said, her voice soft. “I didn't know that. It’s very... shiny.”

She was feigning ignorance. She was playing the part of the clueless, admiring girl. And Marcus was eating it up. He laughed, stepping even closer, his hand reaching out to brush a stray hair from her shoulder.

"You stick with me, sweetheart," Marcus purred. “I can teach you a lot of things.”

A low, dangerous growl started in my chest. My wolf was scratching at the surface, demanding blood.

She is mine.

"Excuse me," I said abruptly to Claire.

"Theo, wait—" Claire started, but I was already moving.

I crossed the ballroom floor in long, angry strides. The crowd parted for me, sensing the murderous aura radiating off me.

"Marcus," I said, my voice dangerously low. "I believe you’re making the lady uncomfortable."

Marcus froze, seemingly baffled as to why I cared so much about a woman. “Alpha Theo. I was just... keeping the lady company.”

I didn't wait for his explanation or apology. I reached out and grabbed Selena’s wrist. My grip was firm, possessive as I pulled her away from him, ignoring the whispers that erupted around the room.

"Theo?" Selena gasped, stumbling slightly in her heels to keep up with me. “Where are we going?”

I didn't answer. I dragged her out of the hall, down the corridor, and straight to my private office. I shoved the door open and pulled her inside, and slammed it shut, locking it.

The silence in the room was deafening. I turned to face her.

"What were you doing?" I demanded, backing her up until her legs hit the edge of my desk.

Selena didn't look scared. In fact, she looked... defiant. Her eyes were dark, dilated, and she was breathing just as hard as I was.

"I was talking to someone," she said calmly. “Since my husband was busy entertaining his mistress, I thought I was allowed to speak to guests.”

"He was touching you," I growled, stepping into her space. “He was looking at you like you were a meal.”

"Maybe he thinks I look good enough to keep," Selena shot back. “At least someone in this room notices me.”

That snapped the last thread of my control.

"You think I don't notice you?" I grabbed her waist, lifting her easily and setting her onto the edge of the desk. I stepped between her legs, pressing my body flush against hers. “I notice everything, Selena. I notice the way that dress clings to your hips. I notice the way you smell like vanilla and sin. I notice that you’re driving me absolutely insane.”

Selena didn't push me away. Instead, she wrapped her legs around my waist, pulling me closer. Her hands went to my tie, loosening it with frantic fingers.

"Then show me," she whispered, her voice dropping to a sultry purr. “Stop talking, Theo. Show me who I belong to.”

Her words were like gasoline on a fire. I crashed my lips onto hers, devouring her. It wasn't gentle. It was a claim. It was a statement.

You are mine.

Only mine.

I swept the papers off the desk with one arm, sending files to the floor, and I didn't care. I laid her back against the cool wood, my hands roaming over her body with a desperation. I needed to erase Marcus’s scent from her, and I needed to remind her and myself that despite the lies, we were inevitable.

"Theo," she moaned, arching her back as my lips trailed down her neck.

She was so responsive and open to me, it was intoxicating. She was shy, but lately, she was fiery and seductive. It made it impossible to stay away. I lifted her skirt, my hands finding the heat of her skin, and gasped, her nails digging into my shoulders through my suit jacket.

"You are my Luna," I gritted out against her skin. “Mine.”

“It won't be long now,” she breathed in my ear. “Our marriage will be over soon, won't it?”

“Until then, you're still my wife!” I growled.

"Prove it," she challenged breathlessly.

I didn't need to be told twice. I unzipped my trousers and pushed c**k into her, burying myself in the one place that felt like home.

The pleasure was blinding. It was a mix of anger, jealousy, and overwhelming love. I moved with a hard, fast rhythm, driven by the need to mark her soul. Selena matched me, her cries filling the office, drowning out the distant music of the party.

For a few minutes, there was no father to fight. There was no fake fiancée. There was just this, the friction, the heat, and the way she called my name like a prayer.

When the release came, it rocked through me, leaving me trembling. I held her tight against the desk, my face buried in her hair, breathing in her scent until my heart rate began to slow.

Silence returned to the office, heavy and complicated.

I pulled back slightly, looking down at her. Her lips were swollen, her hair messed, her eyes hooded with satisfaction. She looked devastatingly gorgeous and mine.

But then, the guilt crashed in.

I was supposed to be pushing her away. I was supposed to be making our divorce real for her and my father. But every time I touched her, I only tied us together even more.

I stepped back, adjusting my clothes with shaking hands. I couldn't look her in the eye. If I did, I would confess everything right now. I would tell her about the plan, about the fake engagement, about how much I loved her. But I couldn't risk it. Not yet.

"Fix your dress," I said, my voice rough and colder than I intended. “We have to go back out there before people start talking. I don't want Claire to know it.”

Selena sat up, smoothing her skirt. She didn't look hurt by my sudden withdrawal. Instead, she looked at me with a strange, calculated determination.

"Let them talk," she whispered, hopping off the desk. She walked past me to the door, pausing with her hand on the knob. She looked back over her shoulder, her eyes gleaming. “At least now they know that even if you're marrying her, you still want me.”

She unlocked the door and walked out, leaving me alone in the office.

I slumped against the desk, running a hand down my face. I was winning the war against my father, but I was terrified that I was losing the battle for my own soul.

15 days.

I will resolve everything within 15 days.

I just had to survive fifteen more days without completely falling apart.