All Chapters of Alpha Damon's Unwanted Luna: Chapter 71 - Chapter 80

Rachel’s POV It deeply worried me how sleep didn’t come so easily anymore. And even when it did, it was light and restless, filled with half-formed thoughts and the lingering weight of things left unsaid. I lay awake long after the pack house had gone quiet, staring at the shadows on the ceiling and listening to the distant footsteps of patrols outside. Ravencrest. The name echoed in my mind like a low growl. I slipped out of bed before dawn, pulling a cloak around my shoulders. My ribs still ached if I moved too quickly, but the pain no longer scared me. It reminded me I was alive. That I had survived. And I was at least grateful for that. The corridor was empty as I made my way toward the back stairwell that overlooked the eastern border. I didn’t expect to find anyone there. But I was wrong. Damon stood at the railing, his broad back to me, shoulders tense as he stared into the treeline beyond our lands. He didn’t turn when I approached. “You’re awake early,” he said.

Elijah's POV The forest never lied. It whispered, warned and revealed secrets, if one knew how to listen. Most wolves believed strength came from dominance alone. From raised voices, bared teeth, broken spines. Ravencrest itself had been built on that belief long before I ever stepped into power. But they were wrong. I stood at the edge of Ravencrest’s eastern border, fingers brushing the rough bark of an ash tree marked days ago by one of my scouts. The groove carved into the wood was shallow and deliberate. It wasn't a challenge, but a reminder. The scent still lingered beneath the damp earth and moss. Moon Stone, unmistakable, layered with discipline and restraint. Fresh enough to remind Damon that I existed, yet subtle enough to keep him guessing. He hadn’t reacted yet. Good. Impulsive Alphas always disappointed me. They barked too quickly, lunged without thinking, mistaking volume for authority. Damon was not impulsive, and that alone made him dangerous. And dang

Rachel's POV In the dimly lit chamber, my body still hummed with the afterglow of our union, my skin flushed and damp where Damon's touch had branded me. I lay nestled against him on the chaise, my head rising and falling with the steady rhythm of his breathing, the scent of our shared arousal lingering in the air like a heady musk. His fingers traced lazy patterns along my spine, each stroke feeling like a silent apology that soothed the raw edges of old wounds, and I felt the weight of his gaze upon me, intense and unguarded in a way that made my heart ache. The room's shadows danced with the flicker of a single candle, casting warm light over his scarred chest, and I pressed my lips to one of the faded marks, tasting the salt of his skin, a tangible reminder of the battles he'd fought. My pussy still throbbed gently from his thrusts, a lingering echo of fullness that made me shift against him, my breasts brushing his side, nipples pebbling at the renewed contact. In this q

Damon's POV The pack moved at dawn. They were neither hurried nor slow. They were deliberate, and that mattered. Speed suggested fear. Slowness suggested arrogance. What we needed today was control. I stood on the stone steps of the main house, hands clasped behind my back, watching as warriors took their positions. Cloaks were secured, weapons checked, not flaunted. Voices stayed low. No unnecessary movement. Even the wolves beneath our skin understood the tone of the morning. This was not a show of strength, but a test of discipline. I had led men into battle before. I knew the difference between those who wanted blood and those who understood consequence. Today, I wanted the latter. Rachel stepped out moments later. She didn’t look at me right away. That, too, was intentional. If Elijah was watching, whether from a distance, through spies, or through the careful retelling of rumors, he wouldn’t see a Luna seeking reassurance from her Alpha. He would see two leaders movin

Damon’s POV I could hear the pulse of the forest around us, the quiet rustling of leaves, the distant sound of water running. But all I could focus on was Rachel. Her calm composure, her sharp gaze that never wavered even as the air between us was heavy with the weight of Elijah's words. I wanted to pull her back, away from this conversation. To shield her from this manipulation. But I knew better. Rachel was no delicate thing to be protected. She wasn’t the kind to be swayed by threats, even veiled ones. And that’s exactly why I hated that Elijah had played this card. I shot a glance at Caleb, whose expression mirrored my own frustration. His hand was subtly resting on the hilt of his blade, but I knew him well enough to see that his restraint was fraying. But Rachel? She wasn’t backing down. I could feel her energy shift. The slight tension in her body that said she was calculating her next move, weighing each word carefully. Every part of her seemed to be testing the wate