He Wanted Me As His Second Mate But I’m The Alpha King’s Luna Chapter 04
The Mating Procession With No Bride
Rue comes hurrying back with the two halves of the wooden pin, close to tears.
“Luna—”
I shoot her a look. She corrects herself instantly.
“Miss — what do we do? Is he gonna have my throat for this?”
Elian gave me permission to return to my father’s pack, but this visit isn’t exactly official.
If word gets out that the Alpha King’s Luna is here, my father’s pack elders will turn it into a political mess before I can blink.
I glance sideways at Damon.
“Don’t sweat it. Whatever falls, the noble little Ashford heir will catch it.”
Damon snatches the broken pin out of Rue’s hands. This time, he finally spots the burned letters on the tail end.
“Runt?”
His head whips up. His voice is choked with disbelief and something raw.
“Your precious male’s name is *Runt*? You threw away a mating with me for some scrawny pack reject?”
The Alpha King’s private nickname is known to maybe three living wolves. Damon Ashford is not one of them.
“What is he — one of your father’s guards? Some stable hand? A rent boy from the pleasure dens?”
He leans in close, voice dropped to a whisper.
“Fine. Don’t tell me. By tomorrow night, I’ll have him dragged out and torn apart myself.”
My lips curl.
“The Ashford heir sure has a big mouth. Why don’t you say that to his face?”
His eyes flash black. “Don’t think I won’t. Ripping out one worthless mutt is nothing to my pack.”
I arch a brow. “Then I’ll be watching.”
His chest heaves. He forces the rage down.
“Did you — did you let him mark you?”
I nod. “Of course.”
I’ve whelped his pup. What do you think, sweetheart?
He staggers back a step. Eyes red-rimmed, finger trembling in the air at me.
“You slut.”
“I asked you for two years. Two lousy years, and you couldn’t keep your legs shut?”
Vera jumps in fast. “Alpha, maybe little sis had her reasons. Don’t be so hard on her—”
“What reasons? She’s a rutting whore, plain as that!”
He roars it, then chokes himself back down.
“I’ll send a pup-killing brew to your door by nightfall. And if I ever catch you within a mile of him again — I’ll put you down alongside him.”
He turns for the door, laughing at himself, hollowed out.
“Fern. You knew I loved you. You knew I couldn’t lay a hand on you. That’s the only reason you had the nerve to grind my heart into the dirt.”
“For twenty years I was the golden Ashford heir. Half this territory called me the finest male of my generation. And I get gutted by you.”
He tips his head back, forcing the tears down. His voice comes out gravelly.
“Three days from now — the ceremony. Just a plain gray cart. You come in the side gate like a kept female.”
I almost laugh out loud.
He’s demoting me from Second Chosen Mate to some shameful little secret he has to sneak into his pack.
Vera scurries after him and throws me one triumphant little smirk over her shoulder.
“Little sis, you’ve broken his heart clean in two. Don’t expect a scrap of favor from him ever again.”
I scoff. “Who’s asking for it?”
Then, on his way out, Damon’s voice drifts back to the serving boy.
“Wrap up a box for Miss Fern. Honey cakes and cream tarts — she likes them. Tell the kitchen to go light on the sugar.”
And he’s gone.
Vera flinches like she’s been slapped, then bolts after him.
…
Back at the pack house, an Ashford serving-woman shows up with a steaming pot of pup-killing brew.
She doesn’t get past Rue. She lifts her chin like she’s the Luna herself.
“Alpha Damon says—since you’re being brought into the pack as his secret female now, half the mating gifts go back to Ashford Pack—”
She doesn’t finish. Our guards toss her out on her rear.
She crawls back to Damon, wailing that I’m the most heartless, disrespectful side piece who ever drew breath, and no self-respecting Alpha should mark me.
Damon paces holes into the floor. Finally, he grits out —
“Let her run her mouth two more days. Once she’s under my roof, I’ll teach her exactly what pack law looks like.”
Poor male. He has no idea what he’s about to bring home.
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