Luna's Moon

Chapter Eleven

One moment I was standing there, still reeling from the intensity of what just happened, and the next—Aurelian yeeted me into the car.

Okay, not literally. But it sure felt like it.

The door swung open, and before I could even blink, he’d guided—carried—me inside, shutting it behind us with a snap. The next few minutes were a blur of speed and silence, and then suddenly… we were there.

A quaint mansion unfolded before me, nestled within a sweeping landscape that looked like it had been pulled straight from a dream.

It was beautiful.

But I didn’t get the luxury of admiring it enough. Aurelian was already at my door, opening it for me with that same unnerving swiftness, and before I could say a word, he was at my side again—hand on my back, steering me toward the grand wooden doors like he couldn’t get me inside fast enough.

Still rattled, still breathless, I stumbled a little to keep up.

“You’re late,” a voice announced as we stepped into the living room.

She stood like a statue carved from moonlight—stoic, poised, and breathtaking. Her off-shoulder white dress hugged her form with effortless grace, the fabric flowing around her like mist. She looked angelic—but there was nothing soft about her eyes. They were sharp. Unforgiving.

Beside her stood a boy, maybe seventeen or eighteen. He was a stark contrast to her elegance—dressed simply in jeans and a slightly wrinkled shirt, headphones slung loosely around his neck. He didn’t say a word, just glanced at us like he’d already seen too much of the world to be impressed by anything.

“Micheal,” David said grimly, nodding once. They didn't seem surprised by that.

Aurelian said nothing. He simply guided me forward, and with one effortless motion of his arm, sat me onto a barstool at the kitchen island like I weighed nothing.

I blinked.

I’ve never been so manhandled in my life.

But honestly? It wasn’t so bad.

“Who are you?” the boy asked, stepping closer with a tilt of his head, like I was some kind of science project that had come to life. His eyes roamed over me with open curiosity, maybe even suspicion—like he was trying to spot the seams, figure out what didn’t belong.

I could feel the weight of their gazes now.

I glanced around the room—flawless, ethereal werewolves, every one of them. Sharp eyes. Sculpted features. Power practically humming beneath their skin. I was the only human here.

If my mom could see me now… she’d probably disown me all over again. Maybe twice, for good measure.

I flicked my gaze toward Aurelian, silently asking for backup, for something—an introduction, a reason to exist in this space. But he was utterly unfazed, casually moving around the kitchen like none of this was his problem.

Fine.

I stretched out my hand toward the boy. “Hi. I’m Luna. Mr. Moon’s assistant.”

The boy scoffed immediately, loud and unfiltered, directed at Aurelian. “Since when did you need an assistant?” His tone sounded so disbelieving. Accusing.

Almost in sync, the woman’s voice cut in—cool, precise. “Luna?”

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she looked at me—really looked at me. I sat up straighter dropping my hand, unsure if I was about to be welcomed or kicked out

Aurelian, still unfazed, placed in my front.

A sandwich.

I blinked at it.

He had been making me a sandwich?

I looked up at him, then back at the plate. It wasn’t just thrown together either—neatly layered, crusts cut off, even a tiny sprig of parsley tucked on the side like I was dining in a werewolf café with etiquette rules.

“Eat,” he said simply, voice brooking no argument. “Your stomach’s been grumbling.”

Heat flushed my cheeks. I hadn't even realized it was that loud in the car or that he had been paying attention.

“Well, that’s because someone”—I glanced meaningfully at him—“showed up earlier than planned and kidnapped me before I could get breakfast.”

He didn’t even blink.

“Are you okay?” he asked, his tone calm but eyes watching me far too closely.

I paused, sandwich halfway to my mouth. “Yes?... Why?”

“You just witnessed an attack. You don’t feel dizzy? Shaky?”

I let out a small laugh, dry and a little breathless. “Not particularly. But I do have questions.”

“So do I,” a crisp voice cut in before he could respond.

Her.

She hadn’t moved from her spot—still standing with the poise of someone who didn’t need to raise her voice to command attention. Her eyes were sharp now, colder than before, and very much trained on me.

Aurelian’s voice remained steady. “Luna, Racheal. She’s my Beta. And that’s Collins, her…”

“Protégé,” Collins supplied before he could finish.

Aurelian nodded once, as if confirming a long-standing fact.

I gave them both a polite smile, though it felt a little tight around the edges.

Then Racheal said it again—my name.

“Luna?” she asked, her voice softer now, but heavier. Full of meaning. it's really not quite that fancy a name.

The air thickened. My fingers tightened around the sandwich.

“Yes?” I asked cautiously.

“Do you know what Luna means?” Racheal asked, voice smooth but edged like a blade wrapped in silk.

Aurelian stiffened.

He didn’t interrupt her. But he didn’t look pleased either.

“Yes?... It means the moon,” I replied, cautiously.

Racheal gave a tight smile. “Well, yes. But it’s also the name traditionally given to the mate of an Alpha.”

She raised a perfectly arched brow then—slowly turning her gaze from Aurelian to me, like she was waiting for the realization to land.

Oh.

I didn’t know that. Honestly, all the stories I’d ever heard just called them “mates.” I never realized… the title Luna wasn’t just symbolic—it was a position. A role. One that came with consequences.

I turned to Aurelian, heart hammering now.

He said nothing. Just watched me. Intently.

Nope.

Absolutely not.

I bolted upright. “I need to shower. And... brush my hair,” I said, wildly grasping at the first excuse that came to mind as I hurried to my luggage. “Is there a room for me?”

Aurelian’s eyes narrowed, assessing, Then he gave a short nod to David, Thank God.

David stepped forward immediately. “This way,” he said.

I followed him, feeling their stares burning holes into my back as I walked out of the room like it was on fire.

They’re all crazy. That lot. Absolutely insane. The mere insinuation is even crazy.

I just need to do my job and skeedaddle. No bonds. No titles. No mystical mate nonsense.

Assistant. That’s all I am. I type things. I hold clipboards. I answer calls. I am not here to be anyone’s mythical moon-bride.

I threw my bag on the bed in the room, of course it was gorgeous, like the rest of the mansion. Tasteful. Elegant. Way too nice for a glorified secretary.

And then… my stomach growled again.

Too bad I left the sandwich.

It was actually tasty. Like, disturbingly tasty. But no way was I going to eat it now, not after finding out it might’ve been a welcome gift from my “alpha mate.” I shivered as I thought that.

I flopped onto the bed and groaned into the pillow.

I need a shower. I need my life back. I need therapy.