The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 5

The Alpha’s office loomed at the end of the hall, its carved oak door casting shadows under the flickering sconces. The pack’s crest had been etched deep into the wood, the wolf and moon entwined in eternal dominion. Standing guard before it, Beta Darin looked more like a statue than a man. His broad shoulders filled the corridor, his hands clasped neatly behind his back, every inch of him exuding the discipline of a soldier.

Darin was more than a bodyguard. He was Alpha Lucas’s shadow, his enforcer, the wolf who tore out throats so the Alpha’s hands stayed clean. My father served as Lucas’s advisor, the voice at his side. Together, they formed the wall around Lucas’s throne—and I had spent most of my life beating my head against that wall.

His eyes caught me the moment I stepped into view. Cold gray, sharp as blades, they slid down the length of me slowly, assessing, devouring, as though I had walked into his trap. A smile curled at the corner of his mouth.

“Well, if it isn’t little Kira,” he drawled, voice dripping with condescension. “Should I start checking the pantry for you at night? You’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Heat rushed to my face, anger and shame tangled in my chest. I clutched the stack of inventory papers tighter against me, their corners biting into my palms. “I need to see Alpha Lucas. It’s urgent.”

Darin didn’t move. He tilted his head instead, studying me the way a predator studies prey. “Always so proper. Always so serious. Maybe that’s why I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Revulsion curdled my stomach. I stepped to the side to pass, but his hand shot out faster than I could dodge. His fingers grazed my jaw, lingering over skin that had long since healed. A bruise once lived there, carved by Callie’s fist, but Darin’s touch made it ache all over again.

He leaned in, voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me. “You can hide the marks from their eyes, girl, but not from mine. I can smell the healing on you. Sweet. Fragile. Easy to break again.”

The papers nearly slipped from my grip as panic spiked in my chest. But I forced my body to stillness, forced my voice to remain steady. “The food supplies are dwindling. Alpha Lucas needs to see this.”

For a beat too long, he only smirked, his thumb dragging across his lower lip like he could taste my fear. Then, with exaggerated courtesy, he turned and pushed the door open. “Alpha,” he called, his tone mocking, “you taking visitors?”

A pause. Then Lucas’s voice, smooth and commanding, filled the hall. “Let her in.”

Relief warred with new anxiety as I slipped past Darin, clutching the papers like armor. His smirk followed me inside, a stain I couldn’t shake.

The office was vast, the air heavy with the scent of polished wood and smoke. Alpha Lucas sat behind a massive desk carved from the same oak as the door, power radiating from him with effortless dominance. My father stood at his right hand, stiff and formal, his presence a reminder that even here, I was not free.

Both men looked up as I entered.

My father’s expression twisted instantly into fury. “Kira?” His voice cracked like a whip. “What is the meaning of this? You dishonor me by barging into the Alpha’s chambers. You waste his time!”

The urge to bow my head nearly crushed me. Years of training screamed at me to submit, to vanish into silence. But my spine stiffened instead, a stubborn spark lighting deep inside. Slowly, I lifted my chin and turned my gaze to the Alpha.

And stopped breathing.

Lucas’s eyes had found me. They pinned me in place, darker than night, hungrier than Darin’s, and infinitely more dangerous. There was command there, yes—there always was—but beneath it pulsed something that tightened my chest and weakened my knees. Lust. Interest. A fascination that pressed against me like heat radiating from an open flame.

My fingers trembled as I extended the papers. “The food inventory, Alpha. Several staples are running low. Replenishment is needed before shortages set in.”

My father roared before Lucas could speak. “How dare you make demands of your Alpha! Insolent girl—”

“Enough.”

The word was quiet, but it cracked like thunder. Lucas’s gaze did not leave mine as he reached forward and took the papers from my hands. His fingers brushed against mine in the exchange, and the contact seared me. It wasn’t tender—it was sharp, electric, like touching the edge of a blade. I wanted to snatch my hand back, but the fire in my skin lingered even after he looked down.

Silence blanketed the room. My father seethed, fists clenched at his sides. Darin lounged against the doorframe like a wolf watching two rivals circle. And Alpha Lucas studied the papers with a furrowed brow that only made my heart pound harder.

“This should have reached me weeks ago,” he said finally, his tone even but edged with steel.

“I submitted the request three weeks ago to the treasury,” I blurted before my courage broke. “Nothing was replenished.”

His eyes lifted, catching mine. For a heartbeat too long, he held me there, the weight of his stare forcing the air from my lungs. “This isn’t your task. This is Lyra’s responsibility. Where is she?”

My father stiffened beside him, the pulse in his jaw ticking. “Lyra is… fragile,” he said quickly. “Too delicate for such duties. Kira has been covering her work. She is strong.”

“Strong,” Lucas repeated softly, like he was tasting the word. His gaze slid back to me, unblinking, his eyes dark pools I couldn’t escape. There was challenge in them, yes, but also something else—something that twisted low in my stomach and made my throat dry.

Their silence deepened, a hum of power in the air as Lucas’s mind linked with my father. I could feel the storm of their unspoken words even if I couldn’t hear them. My fists clenched in my skirts, frustration biting at my skin. Always the conversations behind closed doors. Always the choices made for me. Never with me.

Then Lucas broke the link, and his eyes snapped back to mine.

“Kira.”

The way he spoke my name made it sound like something forbidden. My breath caught, my pulse stumbling under the weight of it.

He leaned forward, forearms braced on the desk. The movement was simple, but it drew me into his gravity. My body leaned before my mind could stop it, as though pulled by invisible strings.

“You healed yourself.”

Confusion tangled in my chest. “Alpha—?”

“Why?” His voice was low now, almost intimate, silk over steel. His eyes traced my face, lingering on the places Darin had touched. “What are you hiding from me?”

The question wrapped around me like a snare, my throat closing tight. Heat flooded my veins, equal parts fear and something I couldn’t name. Because this wasn’t only my Alpha demanding an answer. This was a man who saw me—too closely, too completely.

And I knew, with bone-deep certainty, he would not let me go until I answered.