I Am His Wolfless Luna Chapter 81

Aria's POV

I sat on the cement steps at the roadside, my fingers anxiously drumming against my knee. My phone display showed I'd been waiting for nearly twenty minutes while my son Lucas remained at school with a fever. This feeling of helplessness was almost tearing me apart.

The distant rumble of an engine grew louder, and a gleaming red sports car slowly pulled up in front of me. Leo pushed open the car door, his hair perfectly styled, dressed in expensive casual wear, looking like he'd just stepped off the cover of a fashion magazine.

"Beautiful princess, your savior has arrived," Leo said with that signature smile of his—the one that had melted countless she-wolves into puddles but only made my stomach turn today.

I rolled my eyes so hard they nearly got stuck looking at my brain. I rushed to the passenger side, yanking open the door to inspect the back seat. His flashy sports car with its sleek leather interior and barely-there back seat looked about as child-friendly as a knife store.

"What are you looking at?" Leo called, leaning over the roof with confusion written across his annoyingly perfect face.

"Lucas's car seat," I muttered, already turning away. "I need to get it from my car."

My hands trembled slightly as I worked the straps on the car seat. Every second felt like an eternity. The guilt pressed down on my chest like a concrete block.

I wrestled the bulky car seat free and awkwardly maneuvered it toward Leo's car, my heart racing with a mixture of worry and frustration. The back seat of his sports car was laughably small, clearly designed for weekend bags or perhaps the occasional shopping spree, not children's safety equipment. I grunted and pushed, breaking a nail and scraping my knuckles as I forced the seat into position and secured it. Sweat beaded on my forehead despite the cool air.

"Follow the school address," I ordered, settling into the passenger seat and buckling up with jerky, impatient movements. My eyes fixed on the road ahead, willing it to shrink, to bring me closer to Lucas. My fingernails dug half-moons into my palms.

Leo eased into traffic with a casual air. The contrast between his relaxed demeanor and the panic clawing at my insides made me want to scream.

A thought sliced through my anxiety like a knife—if it had been Ethan behind the wheel, we'd be flying down these streets. He would have sensed my desperation and responded with that alpha intensity, probably breaking a few traffic laws and flashing that intimidating stare at anyone who dared get in our way.

The comparison made my chest ache in a way that had nothing to do with worry for Lucas. I hated myself for even thinking about Ethan right now, for comparing Leo to him, for the stupid, persistent way my heart still jumped at the mere thought of those green eyes. I pressed my forehead against the cool window glass, trying to silence the unwelcome thoughts.

Enough! Stop these thoughts immediately! I shouted at myself internally. Ethan and Emma were a couple, never forget that. They shared the memories and bond, while I was merely a coach at the training camp, nothing more.

"Your scent is unusual today," Leo suddenly spoke, interrupting my thoughts. "A mixture of worry and... longing?" As a werewolf, even though I'd lost my wolf nature, he could still sense some of my emotional changes.

I ignored his observation.

"Aria," Leo turned to me while waiting at a red light, his voice suddenly softening, "I was wondering if you'd be my companion at the charity ball hosted by Ethan's grandmother? It's two weeks from Saturday. All the high-ranking werewolves will be there."

I stared at him in disbelief, hardly trusting my ears. My son was sick with a fever at school, and he was thinking about a ball?

"Leo, my son has a high fever, is vomiting at school, and needed me to be there half an hour ago," I said through gritted teeth. "Now, please focus on driving and get us to the school as quickly as possible. As for the ball, we can discuss that after Lucas is better."

Leo's expression stiffened for a moment, but he quickly recovered that perfect smile. "Of course, of course. You're right, Lucas is the priority now." He increased his speed, but that sense of wounded pride emanated from his aura.

Finally, we arrived at Lucas's school. I didn't even wait for the car to come to a complete stop before pushing open the door and rushing out, leaving the door wide open. The school nurse was already waiting at the entrance. She led me through the corridors to the infirmary, where Lucas was curled up, his face as pale as paper, his forehead covered in beads of sweat.

"Mommy..." he called weakly, his voice barely audible.

I quickly picked him up, his little body frighteningly hot. "It's okay, baby, Mommy's here," I comforted him softly, kissing his forehead.

The nurse handed me a paper with care instructions. "It's flu season, several children in his class have already gone home with the same symptoms. Keep him hydrated, plenty of rest, and he should improve in about two days."

I nodded gratefully, carrying Lucas out of the school gates. When he saw the red sports car parked at the entrance, Lucas slightly opened his eyes, a glimmer of hope flashing across them.

"Did Uncle Ethan come?" he asked softly, looking around for that tall figure.

My heart ached. "No, baby, it's Uncle Leo who's helping us."

Lucas silently buried his face in my shoulder. I carefully placed him in the car seat in the back, fastened his seatbelt, then sat in the front.

"How is he?" Leo started the car and asked.

"The flu," I answered briefly, reaching back to touch Lucas's burning forehead. "We need to get home quickly."

Leo nodded, driving into traffic. The atmosphere in the car was silent and tense, with only soft music playing through the speakers. My attention was completely focused on Lucas in the back seat; his little face was flushed from the fever, his breathing rapid. I began mentally checking if we had fever medication at home, or if we needed to stop somewhere to buy some.

Just as we made the final turn before my apartment building, a terrible sound came from the back seat. I looked back to see Lucas covering his mouth, his face deathly pale.

"Lucas, what's wrong?" I asked, my heart leaping into my throat as I twisted around to see my son's face drain of all color. His small hands clutched desperately at his mouth, his eyes wide with panic and misery.

But it was too late. The awful retching sound came first, followed by the splatter as Lucas's stomach emptied itself violently across Leo's pristine leather seats. The acidic smell hit my nostrils immediately, sharp and sour.

"My car!" Leo's anguished wail filled the vehicle, his voice rising nearly an octave. "No, no, NO! That's imported Italian leather!"

Lucas's face crumpled, his fever-bright eyes filling with tears that spilled down his flushed cheeks. His little body trembled with shame and sickness. "I'm... sorry, Uncle Leo..." he sobbed, his voice barely audible, breath hitching painfully. "I—I couldn't help it..."

Something primal and fierce rose up in me at the sound of my child's distress. "He is a SICK CHILD, Leo. A six-year-old with a fever who can't control his body's reactions."

Leo's jaw clenched so tightly I could hear his teeth grinding. He jabbed at the stereo controls, cutting off the music mid-note.  The moment the car stopped, I ripped off my seatbelt, the metal clasp clattering against the door as I flung it open. My hands were already reaching for Lucas, my only thought to get him away from this situation.

"I'll come down to help you clean up after Lucas falls asleep," I said over my shoulder, forcing myself to be civil despite the anger still bubbling under my skin. "And I'll pay for professional cleaning."

I opened the back door, the smell hitting me full force. Lucas sat amidst the mess, looking small and miserable, his pajama top splattered, his face streaked with tears and sweat. My heart broke into a thousand pieces.

His arms reached for me immediately, tiny fingers clutching at my shirt as I lifted him from the ruined car seat. "I'm sorry, Mommy," he whispered, his breath warm and sour against my ear. "I made Uncle Leo's car dirty..."

"It's not your fault, sweetheart. Not one tiny bit," I murmured fiercely against his damp hair, pressing my lips to his forehead.