The Alpha's Stolen Luna

Kaya

I nearly stumble as I dash out of the dining hall, my legs struggling to keep up with my frantic pace. My breath comes in uneven bursts as I head straight for the stairwell—not toward the kitchen, nor my quarters to change.

Camilla’s order was never truly about sending me to work. That was just a façade, a thinly veiled power play designed to remind everyone that she could do as she pleased.

Her real goal? To exclude me.

If she, the Luna of the pack, could not attend such an important event, then neither could I. Not even Damien’s favorite.

I barely register my ascent, my feet carrying me automatically to the fourth floor—Damien’s domain. Only a select few are allowed up here, and I am one of them. But only when Camilla isn’t watching.

Panting softly, I press myself against the heavy door to his study, my legs still trembling from anxiety and exertion.

I am used to running—running from others, running from everything—but it never gets easier.

With a shaking hand, I grasp the doorknob and turn it clockwise three times. A quiet click echoes in the stillness as the lock disengages. The moment I step inside, I am enveloped in his scent—clean, fresh, minty.

Damien’s scent brings me the deepest sense of comfort, wrapping around me like an invisible shield. When fear claws at my chest, when my thoughts spiral into panic, my body instinctively craves it.

Damien once told me that this is exactly what mates feel.

I believe him.