He Wanted Me As His Second Mate But I’m The Alpha King’s Luna Chapter 06
The Mating Pin on the Wall
Damon is carried back to Ashford Pack in the empty bridal cart he brought for me.
Vera had planned to make me use the side gate — a nice little humiliation for her new “sister.” Then the curtain lifts, and she finds Damon slumped inside instead. Bloodless. Empty eyes.
Her face lights up first. She stamps it out fast and rushes over, playing the worried mate.
“Alpha, did little sis throw another tantrum? This procession’s bigger than the one you gave me! What more could she want?”
Damon doesn’t hear her. He staggers past her toward his study.
For days after, he doesn’t eat. Doesn’t drink. He locks himself in and shreds the place. Every night, the crash of shattered furniture rolls through the pack house.
Half of him waits for the Alpha King’s death warrant to arrive. The other half prays it does — because that would mean seeing me one more time.
His head plays our old scenes on a loop.
The two of us cramming under a single wide leaf in a summer downpour, me grinning up at him — that grin scorched straight into his ribs.
Me perched on the roof, chucking a snowball dead center at his forehead — sweetness bloomed in his mouth anyway.
My coming-of-age night, his voice cracking on the vow — no other female, ever, so long as I live — and my rare, shy smile that gutted him for a full day.
Every look I gave him — laughing, teasing, sulking, snarling — Damon sketched them all. The walls of his study are papered with me.
He always figured I’d wait. Even after he marked another she-wolf. Freeze me out long enough, and I’d come crawling back with soft eyes.
What he never once figured out — me walking into the Moon Palace on my own two paws and never looking back.
Not even the Ashford Pack can pull me out of that.
Damon claws at his chest and drops to the floorboards.
Only after losing me does he taste what missing someone actually is. Bone-deep. Chewing him up from the inside.
When Vera’s pack guards ram the study door down, this is what she finds.
“Alpha, the Moon Palace is hosting a garden banquet today. Are you—”
“Going.” Damon’s head snaps up. Something dead in his eyes flickers back to life. “Of course I’m going.”
He forces himself upright, calls for the maids, gets scrubbed and dressed and his hair pinned back.
Thinner, hollowed out — but by the time they’re done, he almost looks like the polished Ashford heir he used to be.
Everybody in that room knows it. The male is polishing himself up for me.
Vera’s jealousy is eating her alive, but she plays the meek mate and follows him out.
He turns on her at the threshold. Frowns.
“Vera. You’re staying here.”
“The banquet’s full of highborn mates and Alpha wives. If anyone starts asking about Vera’s bloodline—a rogue from a pleasure house—it’ll bring shame on the Ashford Pack.”
Her eyes fill instantly.
“Alpha — you’re ashamed of me?”
Damon flicks her a look. Impatient.
“You know you’re not fit for those rooms. So why keep pretending? When I marked you, we agreed — anything formal, Fern shows the face. That was the deal.”
“Even now, when she — even now, you should know your place.”
He did agree to that once.
Vera had spent two years telling herself she’d washed it off. She birthed the Ashford heir. She was the Luna of the pack, wasn’t she?
Turns out, the male she gave everything to — he’s the one who sees her cleanest. Nothing but a rogue whore in nice fur.
Her throat closes up. She chokes it out anyway.
“Do you regret marking me?”
Any other day, Damon would’ve caved. Held her, said sweet things.
Not today. Rage jumps up his spine. He shoves her off.
“Cut the waterworks! Yes! Yes, I regret it! Every damn day!”
“If you hadn’t thrown yourself at me back then, would I ever have marked a rogue out of a pleasure den?!”
“Sit your ass down. Take care of Rowan. Push me again — and I’ll write the rejection letter tonight!”
Vera crumples to the floor, sobbing like something is being torn out of her.
Damon slams out without a look back.
If he’d turned around — even once — he would’ve caught the venom crawling behind her eyes.
Might’ve saved his own throat, down the road.
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