The Human Luna

Chapter Nine - My life has been a lie.

The world stopped.

For a moment, I was sure I’d misheard him. That maybe the medication was still messing with my head. But the look in his eyes—raw, broken, pleading—told me otherwise.

My breath caught in my throat. My chest felt too tight, like I couldn’t get enough air. Not my father? The man who tucked me in at night, who carried me on his shoulders when I was too tired to walk, who kissed every scrape on my knee and told me I was brave?

Not… my father?

I shook my head slowly, backing away even though I was already sitting down. "No. No, that’s not—no, you’re lying." My voice cracked and broke, the words sharp and jagged like glass in my mouth.

Images flooded my mind, one after another. Him teaching me to ride my bike. Him waiting at the school gates. Him bandaging Clara’s knee while I tried not to cry. Him holding my hand through thunderstorms when I was small. My dad.

And now, with one sentence, he wasn’t?

"Shannon—" He reached for me, his hand trembling.

"Don’t." My voice came out sharper than I intended, but I couldn’t bear his touch just then. If he wasn’t my father, then what was he? Who the hell was I?

The walls felt like they were closing in, the heart monitor’s steady beep suddenly too loud, too real, anchoring me in a world I didn’t want to face. My whole life—the family I thought I knew, the sisters I thought I matched with—was crumbling around me.

And through the blur of my tears, I turned to Thomas. Because as insane as everything he’d just told me was, right now, his story about mates and goddesses almost felt easier to believe than the one my dad had just shattered me with.

I honestly didn’t know what to say. It felt like my world had ended; everything I thought I knew was wrong. Werewolves existed. My dad wasn’t my dad. What next?!

"But… but why? How? Who?" My voice shook, the words tumbling out of me. My whole life… it had been a lie.

"I met your mother when you were two years old," he began softly, his eyes distant like he was seeing another time. "She was the most beautiful woman I had ever met. She wasn’t my true mate but… honestly, I couldn’t imagine loving anyone more than I loved her. It… it seemed impossible. We went on about five dates before she introduced me to you. You were the smallest, cutest little girl I had ever laid my eyes on, and in that moment I knew—I was going to be your dad, regardless of genes."

His voice cracked. His eyes glistened with tears as old memories pressed to the surface. I swallowed hard. I didn’t know any of this.

"We had the girls a few years later," he continued, pausing to steady himself. "I thought she was happy… I hoped she was happy. But she wasn’t. She struggled. Terribly. After Emily, she fell into a darkness I couldn’t reach her in. Some days I’d find her crying on the bathroom floor… other days, she wouldn’t even get out of bed. I tried everything—goddess, I tried—but nothing worked." His voice broke fully now.

I could feel my chest tightening, every word he spoke cutting deeper.

"I came home from training one day and found her… hurting herself," he whispered, shame lacing his tone. "After that, I tried to keep anything sharp out of the house. I even brought her to see Doctor Bane, but because she was human, and it wasn’t a physical injury, she said there was nothing she could do. I begged her to see a human doctor, but she refused. I never knew why."

He closed his eyes, pain etched into every line of his face.

"One day… she left. Just gone. It was you who told me. She was gone when you woke up, and bless your little heart—you had kept the girls entertained all day, even made them sandwiches so they wouldn’t go hungry." His voice cracked again, and he dragged a hand across his face. "We were so lucky to have you. And I never saw it. Instead of helping you through the loss of your mum… I blamed you. I hated you. I gave you a dog’s life. No… worse. Some days I treated the dogs better."

His words hit me like daggers. I had always known he’d resented me—but to hear it out loud, in his own voice, was something else entirely.

"You didn’t deserve that," he whispered, staring at me with a look that shattered my heart. "You deserved to be cherished. To be loved. And yet, instead of giving you that, I made you feel worthless."

His eyes flicked briefly to Thomas before returning to me. "So when I realised you were mated to an Alpha—yes, at first I thought it was insane. A human as our Luna? Impossible. But then I thought of everything you’ve done. The way you’ve raised the girls, cared for me, held this family together without complaint. I’ve watched you grow into one of the most remarkable women I have ever known, and I realised… I could never imagine serving under anyone else. I may not be your biological father, Shannon, but I love you more than he ever possibly could."

In the corner of my eye, Thomas shifted, but I couldn’t focus on him—not now. All I could do was try to keep breathing through the avalanche of truths collapsing around me.

Hearing my father speak so openly about everything that had happened tugged at my heartstrings. I didn’t know any of this—his feelings, Mum’s struggles before she left. All this time I had believed it was my fault she walked away. But it wasn’t. And maybe… it wasn’t her fault either. She was a woman drowning, desperate for a way out, desperate to heal herself.

Tears slipped freely down my cheeks as my dad wrapped me in his arms. Even if he wasn’t my biological father, he was my dad, and nothing would change that. I held him tightly, clinging to the warmth of his embrace, until the sound of his own sobs broke through my thoughts.

It startled me. I had never seen him cry before. To me, he had always been this immovable pillar of strength, a man who never let weakness show—maybe that was his wolf nature. But now, in this moment, he was just… my dad. Fragile. Broken. Human, despite everything.

I hugged him tighter, not wanting to let go, and we stayed like that until his sobbing softened and he finally pulled back, sinking into his chair with exhaustion. The room had grown darker, shadows stretching across the floor from the single window, and I realised with relief that I could feel sensation returning to my legs. I flexed them carefully, testing.

"Is… is she dead?" The words slipped out before I could stop them. The question had been gnawing at me, relentless. Had she killed herself? Had she died out there, alone? What really happened?

"No, hunny. Well… not that I was ever made aware of." His voice was rough, frayed at the edges. "Our previous Alpha—Thomas’ father—he sent scouts to look for her. We even reached out to neighbouring packs for help. But we never found anything. It was as if she had simply… disappeared." He paused, his gaze heavy with memory. "I gave up looking the night Thomas brought you back from the lake. That night I swore I’d devote the rest of my life to raising my three girls."

So he had been searching all that time… and found nothing. No wonder he struggled so much. We were a constant reminder of what he had lost.

The silence that followed was fragile, broken only by the soft creak of the door as Nurse Hilary stepped back into the room.

"Now, gentlemen," she said briskly, "it’s getting late. Miss Rye will need her rest before Doctor Bane returns in the morning. Please say your goodbyes."

My dad was the first to move. He bent down, wrapped me in one last tight hug, and then slowly pulled away. At the door he turned back, gave me a small, tired wave, and slipped out.

I watched him go, noticing for the first time how red and puffy his eyes were, how deep the dark circles sat beneath them. He looked so different, worn down in a way I had never seen before. My father—the man who never seemed to tire—was crumbling under the weight of it all. And I hadn’t even noticed.

Thomas walked over to the bed, his movements softer this time, careful not to startle me. He reached for my hand, cradling it gently before lifting it to his lips. His kiss brushed across my knuckles, light but lingering, sending sparks racing up my arm. When his gaze returned to mine, his eyes were warm, steady.

"I'm only a phone call away," he murmured, his voice hushed, as if the words were meant only for me. "Hilary will call me for you. Please… if you need anything—anything at all—let me know, my angel."

He bent forward, pressing a soft kiss to my forehead. My heart stumbled at the tenderness of it. Then he turned and walked towards the door, his shoulders stiff as if each step was heavier than the last. He stopped just short of leaving, his hand brushing against the doorframe, and glanced back at me with a small, fragile smile.

"Shannon," he said quietly, the weight of his voice filling the room. "Whether you choose to go to your aunts or stay here and rule by my side, I need you to know this: from the moment I set my eyes on you, I have loved you more than life itself. You are the only thing I want, now and forever. But despite all of that…" His voice caught, and he drew in a steadying breath. "I only want you to be happy. If that means you go to your aunts, then so be it. But please—" his eyes softened, pleading, "give me a chance. Let me prove to you that you are the only thing in existence that will ever matter to me."

I sat there, stunned. The words wrapped around me, pressing into every corner of my heart. He loved me. He truly loved me—more than anything in this world. But I didn’t know what to feel. Hope? Fear? Desire? The questions were too heavy for my tired mind to untangle.

So I did the only thing I could. I offered him a small smile, one that carried both my confusion and my gratitude, before watching him slip out the door.

Silence settled over the room, broken only by the faint hum of the machines. I sank back against my pillow, my body trembling with exhaustion and the weight of everything I had learned tonight. Maybe… maybe I could give him a chance. Maybe I could stand by his side, a part of his strange, hidden world.

That night, exhaustion claimed me quickly, but my sleep was far from restful.

At first, I saw her. My mother. She stood at the end of my bed, her smile soft, her eyes the same gentle blue I remembered from childhood. She reached out a hand, and suddenly I was small again — a little girl clutching her mother’s fingers, safe and warm in a way I hadn’t felt in years.

Flashes came and went:

- her laughing while braiding my hair,

- her humming in the kitchen as she stirred a pot,

- her crying quietly in the bathroom when she thought no one could hear.

Each memory pulled me in, raw and vivid, until the images blurred into something else — trees swaying under the moonlight, the scent of wildflowers and damp earth clinging to the air.

I was back in the meadow.

At first, I thought I saw my mother again, but when the figure stepped from the shadows, it wasn’t her. It was him.

The black wolf.

He moved with silent strength, his golden-brown eyes glowing with recognition. And yet, somehow, I didn’t feel afraid. Not then, not now. The pull in my chest deepened as he padded closer, until his muzzle pressed gently against my palm. The sparks that danced across my skin were the same ones I’d felt earlier today when Thomas held my hand — a connection I couldn’t deny, no matter how hard I tried.

And then, just like that, the wolf’s eyes shifted, melting into the warm brown gaze I knew belonged to Thomas. His form flickered, half-wolf, half-man, all Alpha.

“You were never alone,” his voice whispered through the dream, steady as the heartbeat thundering in my chest. “Even before you knew me… I was always yours.”

I gasped, reaching for him—

And woke with tears on my cheeks, clutching at empty sheets where his warmth should have been.