The Alpha's Only Luna

Chapter 3: Take What Is Yours

Cillian POV

The air in the pack boardroom was stale, suffocating, and heavy with the sound of my father’s endless droning. I leaned back in my leather chair, staring at the polished mahogany table, completely bored out of my skull. My mind wasn’t on the trivial territorial squabbles between neighboring packs that Thomas had framed as an "all-day emergency." My mind was in my third floor apartment, tangled in white sheets with Lilly’s dark hair spilled across my chest.

In reality, I knew exactly why we were here on a Saturday morning: my father was just avoiding his own house.

Thomas was currently on wife number three. When I was barely five years old, he abandoned my mother,his own Moon mate,for an allied Alpha’s daughter, breaking the sacred bond without a second thought. My mother couldn't survive the agony and humiliation of that rejection, fleeing all the way to the West Coast and leaving me behind because the pack laws demanded the future Alpha remain on pack soil. It hadn't taken long for Thomas to trade that second wife in for a newer, younger model once the novelty wore off. When that fizzled out, he cycled through a reckless parade of women until two years ago, when he swore he’d finally found "the one, the one." Yet lately, the exact same cracks were already beginning to show.

“And that brings me to you, Cillian,” Thomas’s voice cut through my thoughts, sharp and commanding.

I blinked, looking up to meet his cold, calculating gaze. He had clearly noticed my distraction.

“I’m stepping down and retiring on October thirty-first,” Thomas announced, leaning forward on his elbows. “And you will take over as Alpha. With or without a Luna.”

A quiet ripple passed through the room. I held his gaze evenly. “Understood, Father.” Today was September 12, 2026, that meant is was coming up quickly.

Thomas gave a single, dismissive nod. “I know who you want. But at this point, you might want to start making a list of other she-wolves who would make a suitable match for the pack. Either that, or make Lilly see reason.”

A low, lethal snarl ripped from the other side of the table.

Donald sat rigid in his seat, his Beta authority flaring, his eyes locked onto Thomas with a pure fatherly venom. Thomas casually held up two hands in mock defense, offering a smug, careless smirk.

I lowered my eyes to the table, slowly shaking my head. This. This exact arrogance, this transactional view of women and mated bonds, was everything Lilly despised about pack life. It was the exact sickness that made her keep her walls up, terrified that committing to an Alpha meant being treated like disposable property.

Before the tension in the room could boil over, the heavy double doors clicked and swung open.

The intoxicating aroma of grilled steak, seasoned chicken, warm tortillas, and cilantro immediately washed over the suffocating room, cutting through the thick Alpha pheromones like fresh air.

“Excuse the interruption,” Lilly’s soft, melodious voice echoed through the boardroom. “I thought you guys might be getting hungry.”

She walked in carrying heavy bags, moving with effortless poise in fitted jeans, cute brown boots, and that cream-colored ribbed v-neck that accentuated every curve of her body. My heart seized in my chest.

She set the bags on the side credenza and began expertly laying out the spread: family-style taco trays piled high with carne asada, chicken, seasoned ground beef, warm stacks of tortillas, and every topping imaginable, complete with plates, utensils, and napkins.

Finished, she walked gracefully toward the head of the table. With practiced, respectful tradition, she tilted her head to briefly bare her neck in formal submission to the Alpha, leaning down to press a polite, affectionate kiss to Thomas’s temple. She moved seamlessly to her father next, wrapping her arms around Donald in a quick, warm squeeze and kissing his forehead, instantly melting the dark scowl from his weathered face.

She offered a bright, polite greeting to the rest of the members of council before finally circling behind my chair. Her soft hands rested on my shoulders, leaning down to press a sweet, tender kiss onto my cheek. She was restrained and professional for the setting, but the warmth of her touch set my skin on fire. Caught in the dip of her sweater, the gold wolf-and-moon pendant I bought for her eighteenth birthday caught the overhead light.

“I won’t keep you all,” she smiled, stepping back toward the doors. “Enjoy the food.”

With a final wave, she turned and slipped out into the hallway, the heavy oak doors closing softly behind her.

I watched the empty doorway, my chest tight with awe and longing. She had shown absolute grace, warmth, and respect to every single man in that room—even to my father, who didn’t deserve half the kindness she just gave him. She was perfect in every way. She was meant to stand beside me.

“Don’t be afraid to take what’s yours, son,” Thomas spoke up, breaking the silence as he reached for a plate. “She would make a good pick if you can force it.”

Another violent growl tore from Donald’s throat, the wood beneath his knuckles creaking under the force of his grip.

Thomas didn’t even flinch, only glancing over with an amused sneer. “Respectfully, of course... Beta.”

He drew out the title, deliberate and heavy, reminding Donald of the hierarchy between them.

A sick knot formed in my stomach. I caught Donald’s fierce, protective glare across the table and held it, my throat tight. I wanted desperately to scream that I wasn't like my father. I didn't see Lilly as a prize to be taken or a title to be handed down; I loved her with everything in me. But in a room built on my father's shallow rules, the divide between the Alpha I was supposed to be and the man I wanted to be for Lilly felt like a widening chasm.