The Discarded Luna’s Second Chance

Chapter 10

Weston knocked at my parent’s house door mid-morning, the kind of tap that said he’d already organized the day and expected me to fall into step.

He stood crisp in a light suit, sleeves neat, jaw newly shaved. The picture of a man prepared to escort his fiancée to a prenatal appointment and be seen doing it.

“Ready for Dr. Holland,” he said, not quite asking. His palm found the small of my back as I opened the door, warm and sure through my cotton dress.

“In a bit,” I answered. “Mother wants everyone at breakfast first.”

The house smelled like coffee and toast. Light spilled across the dining room’s long table where Mother had halved grapefruit into pale suns. Father scrolled his tablet with uncharacteristically good humor.

Celeste was perched at the far end in butter-yellow silk, a delicate smile stretched just enough to show strain.

Weston pulled out my chair, his fingers lingering a fraction too long on my shoulder. He was still riding last night’s performance—the attentive fiancé the pack would applaud. The chair legs sighed over the rug.

The conversation drifted exactly where it wanted to go.

“So,” Weston began, “about yesterday. Better than expected.”

He gave me the warm, public glance he’d perfected lately. The one that said ‘look what we achieve together.’

"Kieran's surprisingly reasonable for someone with his reputation. I'm eager to finalize this alliance so both packs can sleep without worrying about territorial disputes."

"Indeed." Father nodded approvingly, setting down his tablet. "The young Alpha's nothing like his savage predecessors. This could be extremely profitable for both packs."

I felt Celeste stiffen across the table. Her fingers tightened around her coffee cup, knuckles whitening. She straightened, then let her shoulders fall in a practiced sigh.

"Profitable," she repeated, her voice pitched just shy of shrill. "How wonderful that Alpha Kieran proved so... focused on business."

Mother glanced at her younger daughter. "Is something wrong, dear?"

"It's just…" Celeste's laugh came out brittle. "One might expect basic courtesy from a visiting Alpha. He barely acknowledged my presence yesterday. It was quite the insult, really."

Father didn’t look up. Mother did. She folded her napkin with surgical gentleness and chose the softest edge for the cut.

"Celeste." Her tone carried gentle reproach. "I observed your interaction with Alpha Kieran. The wine incident was rather... theatrical. Drama doesn’t flatter you, darling."

My sister's perfectly composed mask cracked. "Theatrical?"

"Overdramatic might be more accurate. You would have made a better impression." Mother sipped her tea calmly. “Perhaps focus your attention on his lieutenants instead. Several were attentive. A smart match there would be… advantageous.”

The suggestion landed like a slap. Celeste's green eyes flashed with something dangerous before she recovered, her smile reshaping into calculated innocence.

"Speaking of Alpha Kieran," she began, voice dripping honey over poison, "he certainly seemed fascinated by Harper yesterday. The way he stared at her throughout the reception was quite intense."

Weston's hand stilled on my shoulder.

"In fact," Celeste continued, tilting her head thoughtfully, "it reminded me of something. Harper, didn't you use to write letters to someone in the Wolfhart pack? Years ago?"

Her lashes dipped, then lifted, luminous with innocence while the temperature in the room plummeted. I felt Weston's fingers dig into my shoulder as my father's face darkened.

"Letters?" Weston's voice came out dangerously quiet.

"Oh yes." Celeste's eyes sparkled with false concern. "When we were teenagers. Harper was exchanging correspondence in secret with that orphan boy—what was his name? The one who killed their previous Alpha?"

"Kieran," Father ground out, his jaw clenched. "She was writing to Kieran."

"That's right!" Celeste pressed her hand to her heart. "Father discovered them and was so upset. The beating was severe—Harper couldn't leave her bed for a week. Remember, Mother?"

Mother's cup clinked against her saucer. "That was a long time ago."

"Still," Celeste sighed dramatically, "one has to wonder... did they maintain contact somehow? The way he looked at her yesterday, like he knew her intimately—"

"Enough." Weston's voice cut through her performance like a blade. He yanked me to face him, his blue eyes arctic. "You never mentioned this connection."

“They were just children…” Mother began softly, but Father lifted a hand.

I looked at the grapefruit—juice pooling in the shallow bowl. “It was a long time ago.”

Weston leaned in, blue eyes bleached by anger. “Why didn’t you tell me then?”

Because a fourteen-year-old girl isn’t allowed unsupervised kindness. Because Father called it treason and left his lesson on my skin. Because privacy was the only thing that ever felt like mine then.

None of those would make this air better.

I inhaled to try anyway, but Weston cut across me.

“It’s over,” he announced—to the table, to himself. "Whatever childish correspondence existed is finished now." His voice dropped to a growl that made my wolf cower. "Do you understand me, Harper? Completely finished."

"Of course."

"You're mine." His hand moved to cup my belly possessively. "You carry my child. You wear my ring. You'll take my mark. If Kieran Wolfhart looks at you again, he’ll find my teeth. If he thinks some ancient letters give him any claim to you—"

My phone alarm chirped, slicing through the tension.

"Dr. Holland," I managed and rose carefully. "The appointment. We shouldn't be late."

Weston stood with me, his hand sliding to my elbow in an automatic claim.

"We aren't going anywhere until you promise me something." His eyes bored into mine. "You will have no private contact with Kieran. No conversations without me present. No acknowledgment of your past connection."

"Weston."

"Promise me, Harper." His Alpha command leaked through, making submission crawl up my spine. "Or I'll ensure Kieran understands exactly who you belong to, alliance or not."

The threat hung between us, sharp and clear.

In the past timeline, Weston had never been this possessive. My changed behavior, my newfound value, had accelerated his need to claim me completely.

It’s irritating now, really, but playing on my hand exactly as I need to.

"I promise," I whispered at last.

"Good girl." He kissed my forehead, the gesture appearing tender to observers but feeling like a brand. "I'll protect you from him if necessary."

The dining room picked up conversation again, relief wearing the faces of business and coffee refills. The family pivoted back to routes and projections as if nothing had shifted.

We’d made it two steps toward the hall when honey poured across the doorway.

"How sweet!" Celeste's voice dripped saccharine. "Harper, you're so lucky to have such a protective Alpha. Though managing these appointments must be exhausting in your condition. I should come with you."

She turned the beam of concern toward Mother, inviting sanction. “Sisterly duty.”

Mother didn’t hesitate. “Sensible. Go with them, Celeste. Weston, take both girls. It will look appropriate.”

I met my mother’s eyes and found no malice there, only a quiet calculus of appearances and safety.

“Of course,” Weston said smoothly. “We’ll all go.”

I arranged the smile I’d been trained to wear—serene, grateful, the expression that assured the room I was well kept and well watched.

“Thank you,” I told my sister. “That’s very kind.”

She flushed with triumph so expertly disguised as sweetness that only I would notice. Weston steered me toward the foyer; Celeste fell into step on my other side, and I walked between them, Ava rolling within as if she sensed the corridor narrowing.

We stepped into the bright day, the soft heat settling on my shoulders. I let the sun make the scene pretty. That, too, is part of survival.

Between Weston’s possessive grip and Celeste’s suffocating worry, I tilted my chin and chose the expression that would cost me nothing and buy me minutes.

“Really,” I said, making it sound tender, “I’m grateful to have both of you with me.”

But that won’t for long.