Luna's Moon

Chapter Seventeen

“It was a hard pill to swallow,” I continued, my voice cracking as tears welled in my eyes. “We loved werewolves… we didn’t understand how our father turned up dead with claw marks. It was brutal.”

The tears slid down my cheeks, but he said nothing. He just listened—still, quiet, patient.

“It hit my mom the hardest. I think it shattered the fairytale she always believed werewolves were. I, on the other hand… I couldn’t let that dream go. I loved werewolves, even though I was bullied by one who told me I didn’t belong… and dated two who didn’t live up to the prince charming I wanted.”

I let out a shaky breath, eyes fixed on nothing. “Maybe I was just clinging to the fantasy. Trying to prove that what happened to my dad wasn’t all they were.”

He leaned forward, and I instinctively sat up. His hands found my face, cupping it so gently it almost broke me. He wiped away my tears with his thumbs, his gaze steady and tender.

"I'm not going to sugarcoat it, Regina mea," he said softly. "We have animal instincts. It makes us wild… unpredictable. But what happened to your father was unfortunate, and I'm truly sorry. I will stop the killings and find justice."

Then he pulled me into his arms, strong and secure.

"And thank you," he whispered into my hair, "for not letting go of your fantasy… because it’s right here."

My voice broke into a whimper, “But I’m scared.” I hugged him tighter, as if that would steady the storm inside me. I always wanted a were-man, yes—but an Alpha? The Alpha of Alphas?

“You don’t have to be,” he murmured against my ear. “Not with me.”

The next morning, I woke to the sound of a door closing and the unmistakable clicking of heels. My eyes snapped open, and I shot up from Aurelian’s arms just in time to see Racheal standing by the entrance, arms folded, expression unreadable. Collins stood beside her, looking half confused, half amused.

"I... I was..." I stammered, completely caught off guard.

"Going to head to your room to get ready?" Racheal offered smoothly, one brow raised. An exit. A lifeline. I grabbed it with both hands.

"Yes...yes!" I exclaimed, slapping my hands on my thighs as if that’d help me wake up faster.

As I turned to slip on my slippers, I risked a glance back—Aurelian still lounged on the couch, eyes closed, a slow smile stretching across his face.

I bolted. In case she changed her mind.

I didn't stop until I reached the safety of my room, slamming the door gently behind me like that could somehow erase the embarrassment clinging to my skin. My heart was still racing, and not entirely from the panic. I leaned against the door, trying to steady my breathing.

What was that smile on his face? Smug? Amused? Satisfied?. I didn't even know when I fell asleep, his presence is just so soothing.

I groaned and shuffled to the bathroom, splashing cold water on my face. My reflection stared back at me, cheeks flushed, hair wild, lips slightly puffy from sleep—or something else. I ran my hands through my hair and whispered to myself, “Get it together.”

We arrived back at the Top Tier Headquarters in the evening, and Matt dropped me off. Immediately we touched down, calls and emails were already being attended to by Rachael—her phone glued to her ear, fingers flying over her screen. I offered to help, but she shook her head, brushing me off gently and saying, “You need to get some rest.”

Honestly, I was grateful, I was tired. Rachael had been a little more protective lately, and I couldn’t decide if it was a new directive or just her warming up to me. Either way, I wasn’t going to argue.

I walked into my home, jetlagged and bone-tired. Every muscle in my body ached, and my mind was still spinning with everything that had happened—from the meeting with the Prime Minister to the strange ritual with Adanna to… sleeping in Aurelian’s arms. I dropped my bag at the door, toed off my shoes, and stood in the middle of my living room for a second, just breathing in the silence.

Home sweet home.

I arrived at work early, feeling surprisingly refreshed despite everything. Just as I was about to lower myself into the chair at my desk, the phone rang.

Aurelian.

"Come". The line went dead again.

Well, okay then.

I made my way to his office, wiping my slightly clammy palms down the sides of my gown. The moment I stepped in, the atmosphere shifted—heavy, serious. He was already seated behind his desk, his expression unreadable.

"Sit," he said.

Apparently, one-word commands were the order of the day. I obeyed, perching on the edge of the seat, trying to still the flutter in my stomach.

His gaze softened, the edge of command fading into something gentler.

"You love your work," he said quietly. "And I brought you here—for selfish reasons."

There was something raw in the honesty of his admission, something that made my chest tighten. He glanced toward the window, a flicker of tension in his jaw before continuing.

"Rachael will be resuming here with me, given the current situation we're dealing with."

The deaths. The unrest.

He returned his gaze to mine.

"The role I have for you now... it’s different."

"Did you rest well?" he asked, popping open a button on his grey suit jacket as he settled more comfortably into his chair.

"Yes, I did," I replied, a little too quickly. I hated how awkward I felt under his intense gaze.

He studied me for a beat, as if weighing the truth of my answer. Whatever he saw must have satisfied him because he gave a single nod.

"You’ll be returning to work for Mr. Gordon. As his executive assistant, of course."

Wait—what?

I cleared my throat. "Why?" I asked, trying to mask the confusion—and the sting that came with the sudden shift. What happened to him wanting me close? Why did the idea of him creating distance make my heart ache in a way even my last breakup hadn’t?

"Regina mea," I replied, the words slipping from my lips a bit shyly.

He tilted his head, a knowing smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth, the same way it always did when he knew he’d gotten to me.

"You’ve been doing your homework," he said, voice low and teasing.

I looked away, heat blooming on my cheeks. "I may have Googled it before bed..." I admitted, half under my breath.

He chuckled—low, deep, and smooth like velvet—and something about the sound ignited a spark beneath my skin. It wasn’t just a laugh; it was a melody laced with power and warmth, curling around my spine and making every nerve tingle.

His gaze snapped to the door just moments before it creaked open. Racheal rushed in, her face set with urgency, a tablet clutched tightly in her hand. Collins trailed behind her, the usual tension riding his shoulders like a second skin.

"You need to see this," Racheal said, barely sparing me a glance as she strode straight to Aurelian and held out the screen.

Aurelian took the tablet, brows furrowing as the video began to play. The room was filled with the grim voice of a news anchor, her tone clipped and shaken.

"...early this morning, the body of Prime Minister Malcolm Rhys was discovered mutilated in his private residence. Authorities are still trying to determine the nature of the attack, but initial reports suggest something...inhuman."

I leaned forward to look. My blood ran cold. The screen showed blurred images, blood smears, crime scene tape, flashing lights. The anchor’s voice continued faintly as I stared, stunned.

The door opened again with a suddenness that made the room feel colder, the weight of authority rushing in with the police officials. They moved in with precision, their eyes scanning the room, assessing everything. Their weapons weren’t raised, but I could see the fingers twitching, ready to react to any sudden movement.

"Alpha Aurelian Moon," the general said, strolling in, his voice gruff, his hand resting on the hilt of his gun .The tension in the room thickened. "You need to follow us."

Aurelian's eyes locked onto the general, unblinking, his expression unreadable. The tension in his posture, in the very air around him, was almost suffocating. It was clear that the wolves in the room were on edge as well, each one of them subtly shifting, their instincts on high alert like caged animals.

Racheal’s eyes narrowed. Collins, too, seemed to brace himself, his body language tense, ready to act at a moment's notice.

"Why?" Aurelian's voice was calm, almost detached, but there was an undercurrent of danger beneath it. The way he spoke, as though he already knew exactly what this was about. It sent a shiver down my spine.

The general didn’t flinch. "You’re a suspect in the murder of the Prime Minister. We need you to come with us."