The Luna They Underestimated

Chapter 04

Rowan’s POV

“Absolutely, sounds great,” Dad agrees readily, then turns to introduce Mom. “This is Evelyn, my wife and mate.”

“Lovely meeting you both,” Mom says warmly, stepping forward to shake their hands herself.

Matthew’s attention keeps drifting back toward me repeatedly, his earlier hostility replaced now by obvious confusion instead. Each glance comes paired with another discreet sniff, lips pressing tighter as he studies me again, and I catch the faint glint of elongated canines like he’s actively wrestling his wolf back under control.

“Follow us, we’ll guide you to the Packhouse. You’ll get temporary housing until something permanent opens up,” Matthew explains, pivoting toward his sleek black BMW.

We climb back into our own car, trailing behind him through streets of a genuinely charming little town much nicer, honestly, than the one we just left behind.

“See? They seem perfectly reasonable. This is going to work out fine,” Mom insists, sounding almost too eager to convince herself.

We follow their taillights clear through town, eventually turning down a forested road for what feels like another ten solid minutes. Eventually we rolled to a stop along a horseshoe driveway facing an enormous three-story sandstone mansion, thick green hedges lining the front, ivy climbing across massive arched windows all the way toward the roofline. Stepping out, gravel crunches beneath my shoes as I tilt my head back, taking in the sheer scale of this place. Definitely a step up from our old Packhouse.

Matthew leads us toward the white front entrance, pushing the door open and waving us inside. White marble stretches across the entryway floor, an expensive-looking vase perched atop an elegant hall table nearby. Mom’s eyes widen appreciatively as she takes it all in. Twin staircases curve upward toward an overlooking landing, and I find myself equally stunned, drinking in every detail.

We’re guided toward a door tucked between both staircases, a couple bench seats positioned nearby. Matthew raps his knuckles against the wood, and a deep voice responds, granting entry. Something cold slides down my spine unexpectedly.

He disappears through the door briefly, reappearing moments later to usher my parents inside, instructing me to wait until summoned. Time crawls by agonizingly until Mom finally emerges, settling beside me on the bench. The Packhouse sits eerily silent around us, no movement, no distant voices anywhere.

“He’s finished up with your father, then he’ll want separate conversations with us, just confirming our stories line up,” Mom murmurs quietly.

“What story? We got banished because of me,” I whisper back, panic rising. If he uncovers the truth, he’ll either kill us outright or worse force me out entirely, leaving my parents behind.

Mom nudges my arm gently.

“Shh, breathe. Everything’s under control. He probably won’t press you much, considering you’re just our daughter,” she says, clearly attempting damage control before I accidentally expose everything.

Tears threaten and I blink them back fast. Messing this up means destroying our only shot at staying together.

“What exactly did you tell them?” I whisper urgently. Need to get my story straight, can’t risk contradicting anything.

“We told them we were banished. That part’s true enough. He doesn’t need every detail behind it. You have a wolf somewhere in there, Ro. She’ll surface eventually. You’ll see,” Mom insists, ever hopeful.

“And if she doesn’t?” I breathe.

“She will,” Mom states firmly, with no room for doubt in her tone.

I drop my gaze, stomach twisting painfully at the thought of becoming their ultimate disappointment.

Dad steps out then, giving Mom a subtle nod. She smooths her palms against her jeans before rising, disappearing into the office, door clicking shut behind her.

“He’ll formally initiate you into the Pack. Not too terrible, really. You’ll drink his blood, Ro, and you’ll feel the Pack bond click into place instantly.”

Disgusting, I think privately.

“What happens with our old Pack bond, though?”

“Stings briefly once you pledge, similar to a bad headache. Won’t lie, it actually dropped me to my knees originally,” he admits quietly, right as Mom’s sharp cry pierces through the door.

Dad’s instantly on his feet, head whipping toward the sound. Muffled voices follow before the silver handle rattles and the door swings open. Mom staggers out, both hands pressed against her temples. Dad’s beside her immediately, guiding her carefully back toward the bench.

Dread makes me retreat a step instinctively, unwilling to face whatever just happened to her.

“Ro, you’re up next,” Mom manages, forcing composure back into her voice, fingers massaging her temples gently.

Terror grips my throat and I shake my head frantically, too frightened to move forward. Mom’s easily the toughest woman I’ve ever known if this hurt her that severely, it has to be genuinely brutal.

Dad crosses over, grasping my shoulders firmly, shaking me lightly until I meet his eyes directly.

“Ro, everything we’ve done today was for you. This is literally our only path toward staying together as a family, so I need you to push through this,” he says firmly, holding my gaze steady until I finally swallow hard and nod toward the door.

“Everything fine out there?” the Alpha’s voice calls from within, and panic flares fresh through my chest.

“Rowan, please, once it’s finished, it’s finished completely, I promise you,” Dad urges, though Mom’s still cradling her head miserably nearby.

I exhale slowly and nod again. Dad guides me toward the door, giving me one final gentle push forward. My fingers tremble against the handle before finally pushing it open. Eyes fixed downward, I step through, close it behind me, and finally lift my gaze toward the Alpha himself.

He’s absorbed in paperwork scattered across his desk, dark hair styled longer on top, faded sharply along the sides. I freeze instantly at the strange expression crossing his face the moment he glances up. He inhales sharply, testing the air, and something tells me he’s already noticed something’s different about me. A quiet, dangerous growl rumbles low in his chest as his grip tightens against the desk edge until his knuckles pale completely. His caramel-colored eyes flash briefly with something wilder, and I fight every instinct screaming at me to flee back through that door.

Reluctantly, I force my feet forward, closing the distance. He’s undeniably attractive, strong jawline, full lips, that perfect five o’clock shadow scruff. His scent hits me too, earthy and clean, like rain-soaked forest, distinctly masculine. Mid-twenties, probably, judging by his features. His stare tracks my approach carefully, and once I finally stop, uncertainty freezes me completely, unsure whether to remain standing or attempt something else entirely.

After several tense heartbeats, his posture loosens marginally, revealing fresh claw marks gouged into his desktop from earlier tension. He gestures me closer, and I force myself forward despite every nerve screaming otherwise. His gaze never leaves me, tracking every small movement. s**t, can he actually smell that I’m wolf-less? His jaw tightens visibly, eyes flickering dangerously as he continues studying me, and ice floods straight through my veins.

He already knows. And he’s about to end me right here.