The Fake Luna

Chapter 5

Killian.

The second my teeth sank into her neck, I expected the usual— a faint whimper, that rush of mate bond magic, the mild satisfaction that came with sealing the connection.

What I did not expect… was a moan sound and it wasn’t normal.

It slid into my ears like molten silk, coiled down my spine like wildfire, and punched straight into my bloodstream with the subtlety of a sledgehammer.

Suddenly, my head was spinning. My pulse? Jackhammering like I’d just shifted mid-battle.

My claws were itching to come out, my wolf howling like a madman in my skull.

Mate. Claim. Breed. Knot her. Now!

What the hell? I’ve never gone into heat— or rut— not involuntarily. That doesn’t just… happen to Alphas.

But here I was, seconds from climbing this woman like a hill and losing every shred of sanity I ever had.

I took a shaky step back, trying to suppress the molten, possessive need clawing up my throat— but she moved first.

Like a guilty little minx, she launched herself onto the bed, scrambling away from me, eyes wide like I’d grown a second head.

I growled, lowly and guttural, stalking after her on autopilot.

“Come here,” I commanded, my voice a rough snarl, not even mine at this point.

She shook her head, clutching a pillow like it was going to save her soul.

“No way. You’re acting weird. Stay there, wolf boy.”

Her voice was all sweet panic, but the teasing glint in her eyes made it worse. It made me feral.

“I don’t—” I paused, clenching my fists. My body was burning, my skin tight, my brain fogged like I’d just been hit with lust magic— but that was impossible.

Wasn’t it?

I’ve never lost control like this.

My eyes darkened as I crawled onto the bed after her, towering over her small, curvy frame.

Her scent— gods, her scent— sweet , like fruits, flowers and forbidden temptation. It wrapped around me, drowning my logic.

“I don’t know what the hell you just did to me, but you’re going to fix it. After I—” I cut off, groaning as another wave of heat slammed through me. “After I claim you.”

Her mouth fell open in horror.

I lunged.

She squeaked, scrambling off the bed like a cat avoiding bath time, bolting for the other side of the room.

“Oh, hell no! Keep your… whatever it is to yourself!” she yelped.

I growled again, every muscle locked and ready to chase.

My wolf was purring at the hunt, and honestly?

I had no idea how this turned into a damn mating crisis — but one thing was clear:

The games were over.

And so was my self-control.

“ Marilyn, this isn't a game. I'll knøt you. Let me claim what's mine.” I hiss.

~~~~

Sia.

“Knøt me?” I echoed, blinking at him like he’d just declared tax fraud as føreplay.

What the hell does that even mean?

Did he… did he mean an actual knøt? Like… a nøose? Røpe? Bøndage?

Oh sh!t, what if werewolf mating rituals were some dark Haunting Adeline nonsense?

Meanwhile, Mr. Grumpy-Hot-Psycho over here was stalking toward me, eyes glazed, muscles flexing like he’d been possessed by a gym-obsessed demon.

His whole body was practically vibrating with heat. “Stand still so I can grab you… and claim you properly.”His voice came out all low and primal.

I shrieked. “Claim me properly? You can’t even flirt properly!”

I backed away, palms up like I was handling a wild animal. Which, technically… I was.

This man looked like he’d skip føreplay, wreck my pelvis, and high-five himself after.

Absolutely not.

I’m a siren, sure, but I’m also a virgïn, and I’d prefer to keep my lady parts uninjured, thank you very much.

“Okay… okay… breathe in, breathe out,” I coached him awkwardly, waving my hands like some first-time therapist. “Deep breaths, wolfie. We don’t need to tie knøts or… mount anyone gently right now.”

His eyes darkened, a wolfish grin curling on his stupidly hot smirk. “Oh, girl, I wasn’t planning to mount you gently.”

My jaw dropped.

“Oh hell no!”

I bolted.

Straight off the bed, skidding across the floor, shifted into my wolf form practically tripping over my own feet as I ran.

Behind me, I heard him growl, deep and lethal, like some wild beast ready to pounce.

And then…

Poof in a cloud of smoke.

A giant, sleek, brown wolf replaced him, claws digging into the floor as he chased after me like I was his next meal.

“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap—” I raced out of the room, fur flying. Thankfully the staff wasn’t around to witness their Luna sprinting for her life from her hørny, out-of-control Alpha fiancé.

I slid around the corner, dashed back into the house, and slammed myself into the nearest bathroom. Door locked.

I exhaled, heart pounding.

His wolf pawed at the door outside, low growls rumbling through the wood.

“Open up,” he demanded, his voice returning as he shifted back, rough and impatient. “Stop these stupid games. Let me claim you.”

I panicked, brain scrambling for any solution. How do you snap an Alpha out of… whatever that is.

Throw cold water?

Blast Taylor swift music?

Fake a medical emergency?

Medical emergency. Yes. That’ll do.

I spotted a decorative glass vase on the sink. Without thinking twice, I smashed it against the floor.

Glass shattered everywhere as I shrieked dramatically, then flung myself onto the floor like I’d just been tackled by Poseidon himself.

“Aaah! Help! I slipped! My leg’s broken, my— my everything is broken!” I wailed.

Silence.

The growls outside stopped.

Finally!

~~~~

Killian.

The second I heard the crash, my rut snapped like a faulty wire. Panic replaced lust so fast I almost whiplashed myself shifting back.

“Marilyn?” I barked, slamming the bathroom door open.

She was sprawled on the floor, groaning dramatically as she rubbed her ankle.

“You okay?” I crouched beside her, my heart hammering in my chest.

She nodded quickly. “Uh huh… yeah, it’s nothing. Just slipped. Are you okay?”

Am I okay?

Woman, I was five seconds from mounting you like an unhinged animal. Now my rut is gone like someone just unplugged the whole system. The surge, the heat, the wild need—it just vanished like poof. No trace.

“I’ve been okay,” I muttered, still weirdly shaken. I helped her up, and she winced just a little before brushing it off with a soft smile.

“It’s really nothing,” she insisted.

Sure, sure, but I was mentally packing my pride into a suitcase and mailing it to the North Pole.

I walked out of her room, closing the door behind me with a sigh.

I leaned against the wall, then dragged a hand down my face.

What the hell was that?

One second I was ready to claim her like some deranged caveman—no, needed to—and the next, it’s all gone. Like my body hit the emergency brakes and tossed me out of the driver’s seat.

I stormed back to my room, locked the door, and paced like a madman.

The rut, the chase, the heat… all of it was a blur now, just this weird haze I couldn’t fully grasp. Maybe I needed to sleep it off. I’d marked her, that’s what mattered. The bond was sealed, ninety-five percent complete. The rest could wait.

That night, I dreamed of her.Not Marilyn but

Coco Bel.

Under the sea, her lips met mine. Her laughter bubbled around me as she swam away, calling me to follow her into the deep.

I jolted awake, breath heavy, heart racing.

Damn you, Coco Bel.

When I find you…

I don’t know if I’ll kiss you or k!ll you.

Probably both.

~~~~~~~

I sipped my morning coffee, scrolling through my tablet as my schedule loaded. Meetings. Security updates. Endless pack bullshit.

Then Marilyn walked in. But… differently.

Her hips swayed like she owned the entire solar system. The way she moved—with an elegance that screamed look at me. I did not want to think about last night. I shoved the memory out of mind.

She slid into the seat beside me, wearing a blue top and a pencil skirt that hugged her body like it was custom-made by the gods. Stilettos—Louboutins, seven-inch murder weapons. She walked in them like they were sneakers.

Funny, she used to say they were ‘instruments of torture’ she wouldn’t be caught dead in.

“Good morning, mate. Did you sleep well?” she asked, all sweet and chipper like we’ve been married for ten blissful years.

“Uh… yeah,” I said, narrowing my eyes at her. She’s… cheerful. Marilyn is never cheerful. Hell, before her yacht accident, I don’t think we even exchanged ‘good morning’ unless we were forced to.

This memory-loss version of her? Kind of nice.

“Good morning, Luna Marilyn,” Blair greeted, placing Marilyn’s usual sad meal on the table.

Cucumber water. Black coffee. One pathetic slice of bread. She always kept that sad little menu to maintain her runway figure.

But now Marilyn stared at the plate like it was a crime against breakfast.

“Hells beneath the waves! What is this?!” she scowled, recoiling like Blair just served her a rat sandwich.

Hells beneath the what—?!

Blair flinched, fully bracing for a lecture and a firing.

“I’d like something heavy,” Marilyn declared with a bright smile. “Sausages, bacon, bread, cereal—load me up, darlin. New me, new food.”

Blair blinked, stunned into silence, before scrambling out of the room like the floor was lava.

I glanced at Marilyn, then back at my tablet. Something is definitely off.

And then—

‘Why is he looking at me like that? Is he hørny again?’

I froze.

My brows twitched as I stared at her. She was casually scrolling on her phone, like she hadn’t just spoken. Except—she hadn’t. That wasn’t out loud.

Was that… her thought?

‘I wonder what smex with him is like. Bet he doesn’t even know how to føreplay. Lick my püssy and all that…

But doesn’t hurt to imagine him doing it. His tongue sliding in and out of me as his hands spread my thighs open. Would he eat me from dusk till dawn? His dïck… hmmm. Definitely not the size of this banana. Maybe like… a Coke can, no. Maybe a bottle of soda?’

I nearly choked on my coffee. Huh?!

I kept staring at her, but she was still scrolling on her phone, completely innocent-looking.

Blair returned with her new breakfast. Marilyn poked her sausage with a fork, humming like she’d just been served a Michelin star meal.

‘Mmmh, it’s dripping with juices… I’m so freaking hørny right now. Too bad I can’t ask this freak caveman to even give me a kïss.

I snapped to my feet.

What. The. Actual. F!ck!

I couldn’t hear any of her normal thoughts. I couldn’t access her mind beyond this. Just the filthy, X-rated monologue playing in her head like I had a front-row se

at to her wet daydreams.

I left the dining room in a hurry, before I said or did something I’d regret.

I needed air.

Because apparently, the post accident Marilyn isn’t just sweet—

She’s an entire problem.