Semua Bab The Luna's Tattoos: Bab 11 - Bab 20

Olivia’s POVThe whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache in my chest. I set the glass down harder than intended, the sharp clink of glass on wood drawing the bartender’s wary eyes. I didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them whisper. Let them judge. What was left of my dignity had already crumbled under the weight of tonight. And yeah with the presence of my two mates watching at me from behind I guess I have no dignity at all. The low hum of the club’s music throbbed in the background, but it did little to drown out my thoughts. My father’s words, his cold dismissal, echoed louder than any baseline. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to or maybe I still had one last person to turn to—Ben. Ben’s number was still pulled up on my phone, but I hadn’t really pressed call again. What would I even say? Is it for him to hurry and come over to save me from the show of you owns me between these two Alphas behind me? Cause I can already smell the rift. The

Olivia’s POVIt had started raining on my way back—funny how I preferred to walk in the rain instead of summoning my wolf form to phase through the rain. The rain soaked through my clothes, the cold biting against my skin as I pushed open the door to Damon’s apartment. My hair clung to my face, droplets trickling down my neck . The familiar scent of pinewood and cedar hit me first, followed by something darker—tension. It hung heavy in the air like a storm waiting to break.I stepped inside, shaking off the rain, and froze.They were both there. Lucien leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usually warm hazel eyes dark with unease. His shirt was torn at the sleeve, exposing fresh scratches on his forearm. Damon sat on the couch, casual as ever, one leg draped lazily over the other. His expression was unreadable, though the sharp glint in his silver eyes betrayed his amusement. “How cute,” Damon drawled, his gaze flickering between Lucien and me. “Your knight in shining armor act

Damon’s POVThe storm outside mirrored my thoughts. Rain lashed against the glass of the penthouse, a relentless rhythm I couldn’t escape. I leaned against the wide window, staring at the city lights flickering like nervous fireflies. The silence between me and Daiki stretched, comfortable yet intrusive. He stood a few feet away, meticulously polishing a silver tea tray, though neither of us intended to drink.“You seem quieter than usual,” Daiki said, his voice calm, measured. “More brooding, if that’s even possible.”I didn’t reply, not immediately. Instead, I let the storm fill the space between us, drowning the thought I wasn’t ready to confront.“I take it this has something to do with her,” he added, his tone light but knowing.Her. Olivia. The bond. My chest tightened at the mention of it.“You’re wrong,” I muttered. My voice sounded distant, even to me. “The mate bond means nothing. I didn’t ask for it besides she’s with her ex-husband turned mate.” Daiki chuckled softly, the

Lucien’s POVHer lips were fire, igniting parts of me I had long buried beneath layers of guilt and restraint. The world around us ceased to exist as her warmth consumed me. I deepened the kiss, unable to resist the pull, my hand tightening on her waist, the other sliding into her damp hair.Every inch of me wanted her. Needed her.My wolf stirred, no longer raging but humming in satisfaction, urging me closer to her, to claim her fully. The rational part of my mind—the one that kept me tethered to control—was slipping away. “Claim her,” my wolf whispered, almost tenderly now. “She’s ours again. Stop denying it.”But the whisper became a snarl as I pulled away, breaking the kiss abruptly, gasping for air. I placed a shaky hand on her shoulder to steady myself, though I knew it was more to create a barrier between us. “Lucien,” she breathed, her voice laced with confusion and longing.I stepped back, the distance feeling like a knife to my chest. Her eyes searched mine, pleading, que

Alpha Aaron’s POVThe room was thick with the scent of cigars and bourbon, a testament to the leisurely decadence of the Aristocrats seated around the polished oak table. These men were my equals in rank, but few could match my influence. I leaned back in my chair, drumming my fingers against the glass in my hand as the conversation veered toward business matters.“The northern packs are requesting additional territory near the trade routes,” Lord Ashworth began, his voice heavy with age but sharp as a blade. “They argue that the current borders are stifling their ability to export resources.”“They argue too much,” I said flatly, cutting through his words. “The northern packs are always demanding more, yet they contribute the least. Why should we hand over prime territory to a group that can’t even defend it?”Murmurs of argument rippled around the table. It was good to know some of these fools could still recognize strength when they saw it.“We could consider a conditional agreemen