I Am His Wolfless Luna Chapter 175

Emma's POV

Moving in with Victor after joining his pack had seemed like the natural next step, though I hadn't anticipated just how different his living conditions would be from what I was accustomed to. The large house that served as the rogue alpha's residence was nothing like the pristine apartment Ethan had given me. Instead of sleek modern furniture and spotless surfaces, I found myself surrounded by cigarette butts, empty liquor bottles, and layers of grime that made my skin crawl.

"Clean this up," I ordered one of Victor's underlings, a scraggly wolf with a scar running down his face. "All of it. And when you're done, start on the bathrooms. They're disgusting."

The wolf bared his teeth slightly, a low growl rumbling in his chest as he glared at me with open hostility. I raised an eyebrow, letting my lips curve into a cold smile.

"Problem?" I asked sweetly, placing a hand on my hip. "Should I tell Victor you're refusing to follow his Luna's orders?"

The mention of Victor wiped the defiance from his face. He lowered his eyes, muttering something under his breath as he shuffled off to collect cleaning supplies. I watched him go with a sense of satisfaction. These rogues might be rough around the edges, but they knew better than to challenge me openly. After all, I was their Luna now—or would be soon enough.

After the house was finally cleaned to my standards—which took nearly three days of constant supervision and repeated threats—I claimed the master bedroom as my own personal sanctuary. The room was large, with windows overlooking the dense forest that surrounded the property, but it lacked the luxury touches I craved.

"I need some new things," I announced to Victor over dinner that evening, twirling a strand of my hair between my fingers as I spoke. "Clothes, shoes, jewelry... everything I had to leave behind when we fled."

Victor looked up from his meal, his silver hair catching the dim light. Where Ethan was all sculpted muscle and controlled power, Victor had the wiry strength of a seasoned fighter who'd survived on cunning as much as brute force.

"Money?" He questioned, eyebrows raised, fork paused halfway to his mouth.

I leaned forward, letting my low-cut top reveal just enough cleavage to distract him. "I need to look the part of a Luna, don't I? Your warriors should see that their Alpha can provide for his mate."

His eyes darkened with desire as they dropped to my chest, exactly as I'd intended. Men were so predictable, regardless of age or status.

"Of course," he finally agreed, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a black credit card. He slid it across the table toward me. "Get whatever you need."

I picked up the card, examining it with a satisfied smile. "Thank you," I purred, stretching my leg under the table to run my foot suggestively up his calf. "I'll make it worth your while."

That night, I stayed up late ordering everything I'd been eyeing online—designer clothes, handbags, shoes, and jewelry that would make Bella green with envy if she could see me now. Thinking of Bella brought a mixture of satisfaction and irritation. Back at Silver Moon pack, she'd always flaunted her status as Marcus's daughter, looking down her nose at me despite our supposed friendship.

"Omega-born," she'd whisper when we were alone, making it sound like the filthiest insult. "You should be grateful my father even allows you at pack gatherings."

Even after I'd latched onto Ethan and gained some status by association, Bella had never missed an opportunity to remind me of my origins. Now I was a Luna—or close enough—while she rotted in Ethan's prison. The thought made me smile as I stretched luxuriously across the silk sheets I'd ordered express delivery.

The floorboards outside my room creaked, announcing Victor‘s approach. I sighed, setting my tablet aside. Every night like clockwork, Victor would drink himself into a stupor and then stumble to my room.

The door swung open, revealing his swaying figure silhouetted against the hallway light. The stench of whiskey and cigars preceded him.

"Emma," he slurred, shutting the door behind him with a heavy thud. "My beautiful Emma."

I forced a smile, swallowing my revulsion as he approached. His body, while still muscular in that way of older wolves who refused to acknowledge aging, had none of the firmness of younger men. His skin hung slightly loose in places, like his eggs, and the smell of him—a mixture of booze, tobacco, and something distinctly... old—made my stomach turn.

"I've been waiting for you," I lied, patting the bed beside me.

He grinned, exposing teeth yellowed by years of smoking, and began fumbling with his belt. I steeled myself for what was to come, reminding myself that this was temporary. Just part of the plan. Once Victor eliminated Ethan and consolidated power, I'd have everything I wanted. And if Victor happened to meet with an unfortunate accident somewhere down the line... well, a grieving widow could find comfort in the arms of younger, more attractive wolves, couldn't she?

"We hit their southern border patrol today," he boasted, his breath hot and reeking of alcohol against my neck. "Took down three of their warriors before they even knew what happened. Should've seen their faces..."

I rolled my eyes behind closed lids, feigning interest with occasional noises of appreciation.

"When are you going to actually face him?" I asked, unable to keep the edge of impatience from my voice. "These little attacks are just... annoying him. Like mosquito bites."

Victor stiffened beside me, his arm tightening uncomfortably around my waist. "You questioning my strategy, sweetheart?"

I quickly shifted tactics, turning in his arms to face him, my expression softening into one of admiration. "Of course not," I assured him, running my fingers through his silver hair. "I just get excited thinking about seeing Ethan finally get what he deserves. After how he betrayed me... us."

His expression relaxed slightly, ego soothed by my apparent devotion to our shared cause. "All part of the plan," he explained, tapping his temple with one finger. "You don't just charge at an Alpha like Ethan. You wear him down first. Break his spirit, piece by piece."

"And how do we do that?" I asked, genuinely curious now.

Victor's lips curved into a cruel smile. "By taking what he loves most."

A thrill ran through me at the possibilities. "Aria," I whispered, the name still bitter on my tongue. "And those brats she's carrying."

"Exactly," Victor nodded. "That's why your friend Sarah was so valuable. Shame she couldn't deliver."

I can still remember that we barely made it back to rogue territory before reports started coming in that night—Sarah was dead, killed by Ethan himself. Worse, Aria had gone into premature labor but had survived, delivering twin girls who were reportedly healthy despite their early arrival.

Victor raged for days, destroying furniture and terrifying his subordinates with his explosive temper. I kept my distance, knowing better than to be in his path when he was like this.

When he finally calmed enough to be approached, I found him in his study, staring at old maps of Shadow Fang territory with bloodshot eyes.

"I think you've finally done it," I remarked, lounging against the doorframe with practiced casualness. "You've pushed Ethan to his breaking point with all these attacks and now the attempt on Aria. He's going to come for you now—for us."

Victor looked up, a strange gleam in his eyes. "Good," he said simply. "Let him come."

I studied him carefully, trying to gauge his confidence. "You're really ready for that fight?"

A slow, predatory smile spread across his face. "I've been ready for decades," he assured me.

I moved closer, perching on the edge of his desk. "And what happens to me if things don't go as planned?" I asked bluntly. "If Ethan wins?"

Victor reached out, his weathered hand gripping my wrist with surprising strength. "Dead or alive," he said, his voice low and dangerous, "you're mine now. Understand? There's no going back for either of us."

I nodded, smiling sweetly while mentally rolling my eyes. As if I'd ever truly belong to this old fool.