The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 232: Chapter 232 Promise what?

The moment Damian disappeared down the corridor with Rick, Elena turned to me with worried amber eyes that seemed to glow faintly in the dim light of the entrance hall.

"How bad were his injuries?" she asked softly, her Luna instincts clearly on high alert.

I hesitated, my fingers twisting together. The truth sat heavy on my tongue.

But telling them would only make them worry more, and Damian had enough on his plate without his family spiraling into panic mode.

"He had some broken ribs and a concussion," I said carefully, keeping my voice steady even as my heart hammered against my ribcage. "The fall into the ocean was rough on him. But he’s healing well now."

Grace, Damian’s grandmother, studied me with sharp gray eyes that reminded me so much of her grandson it was almost unnerving.

"You’re not telling us everything, dear," she said quietly.

My heart skipped a beat. Of course she’d see through me. Wolves had an uncanny ability to sense deception.

"The important thing is that he’s safe now," I said, meeting her gaze head-on. I refused to look away, refused to show weakness. "And I intend to make sure he stays that way."

Elena reached out and squeezed my hand, her touch warm and maternal in a way that made my throat tighten unexpectedly.

"Thank you for taking care of him," she said, and the genuine warmth in her voice nearly undid me. "I can see how much you care about my son."

I swallowed hard against the sudden lump in my throat. "He’s my mate. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him."

The words came out fiercer than I’d intended, but they were true. Every single one of them.

Grace’s austere features softened into something resembling approval. "The Moon Goddess chose well."

Before I could respond—heavy footsteps echoed down the hallway.

I turned just as Damian emerged from the corridor, Rick at his side. My breath caught in my chest.

Something was wrong. Terribly, horribly wrong.

"Damian?" I moved toward him instinctively. "What’s wrong?"

I needed to know. Needed to understand what had put that look on his face.

But he just walked straight to his father, leaning in to murmur something I couldn’t quite catch. Andrew’s expression darkened further—if that was even possible—and he gave a sharp nod before the two of them disappeared into a room off the main hallway.