I Am His Wolfless Luna Chapter 164

Aria's POV

The sight of Sarah being dragged away in restraints hit me like a punch to the gut. I couldn't tear my eyes away from her struggling form, her desperate pleas echoing in my ears even after she disappeared from view. My fingers trembled slightly as they found their way to my swollen belly, where the twins responded with quick, fluttering kicks—little warriors already sensing their mother's unease.

"How many others have wormed their way into our lives with fake smiles while plotting behind our backs?" A knot formed in my throat as memories of Sarah's seemingly genuine kindness flashed through my mind. The betrayal stung worse than any physical wound I'd ever suffered.

"Don't torture yourself," Zoe murmured, squeezing my shoulder. The warmth of her hand anchored me to the present. Her eyes, filled with fierce protectiveness, met mine. "David's team is like a pack of bloodhounds. If there are others hiding among us, they'll sniff them out."

I exhaled slowly, trying to release the tension coiling in my chest. "You're right," I admitted, straightening my spine with renewed determination. "The sooner we flush out these rats, the closer we'll get to finding Emma." Just saying her name made my jaw clench involuntarily.

With Zoe at my side, I waddled—there was really no more dignified word for how I moved these days—toward the training field. A group of warriors stood at attention, their eager faces turning toward me as one. These weren't just any fighters; these were Ethan's handpicked elite, the future guardians who would protect everything we held dear. I caught a few concerned glances at my enormous belly, some poorly concealed winces as I lowered myself carefully onto a bench.

"Today," I announced, my voice carrying across the field with more strength than I actually felt, "we're focusing on defensive counters." I scanned their faces, noting how young some of them looked. "Remember this: raw power isn't everything in battle. Sometimes, the key to victory is turning your opponent's strength against them."

After explaining the techniques, I set them to work in pairs while I moved among them like a ship navigating rough waters. I corrected grips here, adjusted stances there, until I spotted a young male werewolf near the edge of the field. His movements were stiff, his technique all wrong.

"You're thinking too much," I said, approaching him. The poor kid's eyes nearly bulged out of his head when he saw me coming, his adam's apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. "Your body already knows what to do—trust your instincts."

"Coach," he stammered, his gaze dropping to my mountainous belly before quickly darting away, cheeks flushing. "You shouldn't—I mean—you look like you could pop any second!"

A smile tugged at my lips despite myself. The kid was terrified, but not of fighting—he was scared of somehow hurting the pregnant lady. "I appreciate the concern," I said, softening my tone just a touch, "but I'm tougher than I look." I nodded toward the practice mat. "Show me what you've got. Don't hold back."

He hesitated, shifting from foot to foot like he needed to use the bathroom. "But what if I accidentally—" His eyes flickered to my belly again.

"You won't," I assured him firmly. "Now, stop stalling and attack me."

After another moment's hesitation, he finally nodded and took his stance. I could read the conflict in his eyes plain as day as he launched a punch that wouldn't have knocked over a house of cards.

The moment his arm extended, muscle memory took over. My fingers locked around his wrist like a vise, my other hand found the vulnerable spot at the back of his neck, and before he could even register what was happening, I used his own  momentum to flip his entire body. Sixty pounds of teenage werewolf crashed to the mat with a satisfying THUD that silenced the entire training field.

I leaned over as far as my belly would allow, careful not to strain my already overtaxed back muscles. "You okay?" I asked, extending my hand.

His face turned a shade of red. "Yes, ma'am," he mumbled, accepting my help but avoiding my eyes as if making eye contact might literally kill him.

Turning to address the now-silent crowd, I raised my voice. "This is proper form," I announced, meeting each wide-eyed stare. "It's about leverage and timing, not brute strength. Now, everyone continue the drill."

The field erupted back into activity, the sounds of practice resuming with renewed vigor. I waddled back to the bench and lowered myself down with as much dignity as possible, secretly relieved to be off my swollen feet. Inside my belly, the twins seemed to be having their own sparring match, kicking and stretching as if trying to recreate the throw I'd just demonstrated. I rubbed slow circles over the spots where little feet pressed outward, silently pleading with them to take a break from their gymnastics routine.

"Coach Aria?"

Looking up, I found a young guard hovering awkwardly before me. His posture was ramrod straight like he was standing at attention. I recognized him as a new recruit to the security team.

"Yes?" I tried to sit up straighter.

He leaned closer, dropping his voice so the nearby warriors couldn't hear. "Sorry to interrupt, ma'am. I'm posted at the holding cells where we're keeping the prisoner—Sarah." The name sent a fresh jolt of betrayal through me. "She's been demanding to see you since we brought her in. Says she won't talk to anyone else."

My eyebrows knitted together as suspicion flared inside me like a sudden brush fire. The twins must have sensed my sudden tension because they delivered simultaneous kicks that made me wince. "Me? Why would she want to see me specifically?" I asked, my voice sharper than intended while one hand protectively cradled my belly.

The guard shifted his weight uncomfortably, his gaze darting around like he was afraid of being overheard. "She claims to have important information about Emma," he whispered. "Says she'll only share it with you, face to face."