The Luna He Shouldn’t Want

Chapter 9. A Ghost In My Mind

Dominic

The day outside my window was bright and unforgiving, but inside me was a storm. Dressed in my usual dark jacket and heavy boots, but the armour of clothes couldn’t protect me from the turmoil within. My mind raced back to the night, the quiet as she moved through the ballroom, and how her eyes had met mine without hesitation or fear.

Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her.

Not a stranger but a woman who had shaken the foundation I had built for myself.

I paced the stone floor of my chambers, fists clenched. I was supposed to be the strong one, the unyielding Alpha heir who led with iron will and cold precision. But for once, I was powerless against this obsession. I couldn’t stop replaying our fleeting touches, her laughter, and her words.

And the kiss.

I ran my tongue over my bottom lip, tasting the ghost of her.

Had I been too forceful? Had I overwhelmed her? Maybe she fled because I hadn’t been what she needed.

That thought hit me like a blow.

I hadn’t been a man known for gentleness. My strength was my weapon in battle, in politics, and in love. But with her I faltered. Had I broken something instead of building?

The idea was unreadable.

I summoned my most trusted captain, Marek, a grizzled wolf with eyes sharp enough to spot a lie before it was spoken.

“Find her.” I said simply.

Marek nodded. “Where should I start, Alpha?”

“Anywhere she might be, the market, the outskirts, someone has to have seen her.”

Marek hesitated. “No name, no description beyond the woman at the ball? It’s like chasing smoke.”

I slammed my fist on the table. “Then chased smoke.”

Days passed with no news.

Each morning, I found myself in disguise, drawn to the places I thought she might be. I spoke to vendors and shopkeepers, carefully piecing together descriptions of a young woman who didn’t fit into the world around her.

She was elusive, like shadows in day.

Each failed lead tightened the coil in my chest.

I felt the weight of my role pressing down harder than ever, expected to command, to be untouchable, to be a cold, calculating Alpha.

Yet all I could think about was her.

The nights were worse.

I lay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering if she had been scared away by me.

Had I been too intense? Too demanding? Had my touch frightened her?

The doubt ate at me raw and relentlessly.

I wasn’t used to feeling uncertain. The blood of leaders ran strong in my veins. Yet this woman had brought me to my knees.

I ran a hand through my hair, cursing the weakness I felt.

But deep down I knew I wasn’t weak.

I was haunted.

Not by enemies, or rivals, or fate, but by the memory of a woman I barely knew.

One evening, after another long day searching, I found myself standing beneath the ancient oak tree near the market square. I closed my eyes, willing her presence to fill the space beside me.

She was close.

I could feel it.

But she was just out of reach.

I knew I had to find her.

Not just because of the night and the kiss, but because she had stirred something in me I thought I’d lost forever.

The days blurred together. The castle hummed with activities, but I had felt detached, a king in a fortress of glass, fragile and exposed. My father’s voice echoed in my mind, demanding strength and focus. The council meetings, the endless political machinations, and the whispered threats from rival packs all should have anchored me.

But they didn’t.

My thoughts were fractured, consumed by her. The woman who had infiltrated my carefully guarded world in one fleeting night.

Each encounter with my advisors reminded me of what was expected: a cold Alpha, unyielding, unbroken.

But I was neither.

I wanted to reach out, to break through my walls, but I was shackled by years of duty and distrust.

The guilt of failure weighed heavy. Had I pushed too hard and demanded too much too soon?

The memory of her pulling back from the kiss and the hesitation in her eyes haunted me.

Was it me?

I wandered through the hall, restless.

My guards reported nothing new, but I refused to believe she had vanished without a trace.

I wondered what kind of life she led, what burden she carried.

That night, I found myself standing at the edge of the forest bordering Moonspire, the silver eyes in the dark sky.

The cold wind cut through my cloak, but I welcomed it. The solitude gave me space to breathe and think.

I reached into my pocket and fingered the small trinket she had left behind when she slipped away. From my side.

A simple charm, but to me, it was a lifeline.

If I could find this woman, the one who had broken through my armour, maybe I could find myself again.

I returned to my chambers, exhaustion weighing down my limbs.

I stared at the empty bed, wondering if she lay awake somewhere, haunted by the same memories.

Would she never come back?

Or had I lost her forever?

The question tumbled through my mind like a storm.

I wasn’t ready to give up on the woman who had left me restless, haunted, and desperate.

Because she wasn’t just a fleeting shadow in the night.

She was the spark I could extinguish.

The day slipped by, one indistinguishable from the next, yet each carried the weight of her absence like a fresh wound. The castle’s stone corridors echoed with the sounds of strategy and command, but I moved through them like a spectre, present in body, absent in mind.

Every face I passed was a reminder that my life was no longer mine to live but a mantle I was expected to bear without faltering.

I found myself unable to focus during meetings. The voice of my advisors became white noise as my thoughts wandered back to the night, the way her breath had hitched when our hands brushed, and the boldness of her gaze that held no trace of fear. I wasn’t used to wanting someone so completely without knowing their name.

Had I frightened her? That question clawed at me endlessly.

Back in the solitude of my chambers, I stared at the empty space beside me, wondering if she, too, wrestled with the ghost of our night together. Did she think of me as I thought of her? Did she regret fleeing before dawn, or did she breathe easier from the tangled expectations of my world?

The ache of uncertainty gnawed at me.

I wasn’t a man accustomed to being undone by unknowns. And yet here I was, broken and relentless, haunted by a woman whose name I did not know.

I resolved then that I should find her, not because she was a prize to be claimed. The haunt was no longer about possession.

But I had many other things to attend to.

The weight of being Moonspire’s Alpha heir pressed down harder than ever. There was no room for longing. No tolerance for distraction. I buried that part of me deep beneath layers of frost.

The days settled into a grim rhythm as I withdrew from the fragile hope I’d clung to. I had chased a ghost long enough. The woman who had shattered my cold defence was gone, or at least had chosen to be.

I was back to being what everyone expected: cold, distant, and untouchable.

The grand hall to the estate buzzed with the polite hum of conversations as I entered. Candles flickered, casting shadows that danced over the polished stone floors. Tonight was a gathering of minor nobles, merchants, and influential figures. My presence was required, a symbol of the future leadership, steady and unyielding.

I moved through the crowd with measured grace, eyes scanning but never setting. Some sought my attention with coy smiles and subtle glances, hopeful to catch the favour of the heir. I had no time for such games.

“Dominic,” a voice purred at my side. I turned to see Lady Melina, a striking woman from a neighbouring pack. Her auburn hair caught the candlelight, and her eyes glittered with amusement and calculation.