His Abandoned Luna Chapter 111

|| Alaric’s POV ||

The room erupted into murmurs, but Marcus silenced them with a sharp look.

“We need evidence,” he said, his voice firm. “Something to prove our innocence.”

I nodded, my mind racing. “We also need to find out who’s behind this. Cassandra is the obvious suspect, but we need proof.”

Elizabeth, the pack’s liaison with the outside world, spoke up next. “I heard Benson Blackwood’s interview. You said his daughter was our Luna. How could she let this happen to us?”

The room fell silent, all eyes turning to me. My heart raced. Lilac. Was she safe? Did she believe the lies?

“Is that true, Alpha?” someone asked.

“She looked so innocent,” another voice added.

Whispers filled the room, their words sharp and accusing. My fists clenched at my sides, but Marcus stepped in before I could respond.

“Enough,” he said, his voice firm. “Benson must have his reasons. Our Luna might even be in danger.”

The room quieted, but Elizabeth wasn’t done. “Is that so? Or did she collude with Kael to frame you? You can never trust those who are close to the castle.”

The accusations flew, each one cutting deeper than the last. My patience snapped.

"If she is really your Luna, then where is she now? Why isn't she here? This is a crisis for you, Alpha. Why your Luna is not by your side?" Elizabeth questioned.

“Enough!” I slammed my hand on the table, the sound silencing the room. A crack formed on the table immediately. “We’re here to find a solution, not wage a war among ourselves.”

Before anyone could respond, a mindlink broke through the tension, 'Alpha! We’ve spotted a she-wolf in the territory. She broke in before we could stop her.'

My heart pounded.

'What?' I yelled, my voice sharp.

The room erupted into chaos, but my mind was already elsewhere. The pack was already in chaos and the last thing I needed was an unidentified wolf breaking in.

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|| Lilac’s POV ||

The dinner table was silent, the clinking of silverware against plates the only sound breaking the heavy stillness. I picked at my food, my mind racing a mile per minute. The weight of the day pressed down on me, suffocating and relentless. What should I do? How could I get Alaric out of this mess without dragging my father’s name through the mud? The thought of betraying either of them made my stomach churn.

Dad was still locked in his study, his absence a palpable void at the table. Mom sat across from me, her face pale and drawn, her hands trembling slightly as she sipped her tea. Ezra, usually the life of the family, was uncharacteristically quiet, his eyes downcast as he pushed his food around his plate. The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a knife.

I couldn’t take it anymore. I stood abruptly, my chair scraping against the floor.

“I’m done,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Without waiting for a response, I grabbed my plate and headed to the kitchen, my mind already elsewhere.

Back in my room, I shut the door firmly behind me, leaning against it as I took a deep, shuddering breath. The walls felt like they were closing in, the weight of the world pressing down on my shoulders. I needed to think, to plan. But first, I needed to see Alaric. He was in trouble, and he needed to know he wasn’t alone. Dad took my phone and grounded me like a teenager. I was cut off!

I glanced at the piece of paper clutched in my hand— a map I’d snuck from my father’s study earlier that day. It was risky, but it was the only way. I couldn’t take my car; I’d be too easy to track. No, I had to go on foot, under the radar.

I waited a few more minutes, listening for any signs of movement in the house. When I was sure the coast was clear, I slipped out the window, landing softly on the grass below. The cool night air hit my face, sharp and invigorating. I took off at a run, my feet carrying me toward the woods.

The forest was familiar, its shadows comforting rather than frightening. I moved quickly, my instincts guiding me as I navigated the dense underbrush. The map in my hand was a lifeline, its lines and markings leading me toward Alaric’s pack. But as I reached the edge of the woods, the real challenge began.

The highway stretched out before me, its empty expanse illuminated by the pale glow of the moon. I hesitated for a moment, my heart pounding in my chest. If anyone saw me, it would be over. But I didn’t have a choice. I took a deep breath and sprinted across the road, my legs burning with the effort.

The valley beyond was treacherous, its steep slopes and rocky terrain a stark contrast to the relative ease of the forest. My legs ached, and my head spun, but I pushed through the pain, driven by a single thought. Alaric needs me.

Finally, I spotted the first signs of the Blood Moon Pack’s territory— wolves patrolling the borders, their eyes sharp and alert. My heart raced as I ducked behind a tree, my breath coming in shallow gasps. I couldn’t afford to be caught, not now.

I moved carefully, my instincts guiding me as I slipped past the patrols. But just as I thought I was in the clear, a voice called out behind me.

“Hey, wait! Identify yourself!”

I didn’t hesitate. I turned and ran, my legs carrying me as fast as they could.

'Runa, please help me,' I pleaded silently, my heart pounding in my chest. The detached houses of the pack came into view, and I followed the faint scent of pinewood, my senses honed in on Alaric.

When I finally reached the packhouse, I didn’t stop to think. I pushed open the door and there he was— my Alaric, standing in the middle of the room, his face a mask of distress. The table beside him bore a massive dent, evidence of his frustration.

“Lilac!” he gasped, his eyes widening in shock.