Semua Bab The Feral Alpha’s Rejected Luna: Bab 321 - Bab 330

Diana Natasha doesn’t speak at first. She just stares at me, like she’s trying to find the words—like they’re stuck somewhere deep in her chest. She opens her mouth once, then closes it again. And finally, in a quiet, trembling voice, she says, “I’m sorry.” I say nothing. She swallows hard, then adds, “I mean it, Alpha Diana. I’m so, so sorry. I’ve wanted to say this to you for a long time, but I didn’t know if I’d ever get the chance. And even now, I know it won’t be enough. But I have to say it anyway.” Still, I wait. She shifts on her feet. Her hands hover protectively near her belly, then curl into fists. “When my father proposed the alliance to Alpha Magnus… it wasn’t just about our packs. He used the witches as justification, but the real reason…” Her voice breaks slightly. “The real reason was me. I was twenty-six. I hadn’t met my mate. Everyone assumed he was dead. And… I’d always admired Magnus. Since we were kids. I thought maybe… maybe I’d get a life I never tho

Diana “She has to go back,” Dom says quietly. “To her pack. To her mate. We can’t keep her under guard here forever.” I nod slowly, but the unease in my chest doesn’t ease. “But even if we did,” he continues, “what’s stopping the witches from picking someone else?” I blink. “What do you mean?” “They’re watching her,” he says, his tone growing tighter. “Not any of the thirty-six Alphas sitting in that room. Not any of their Betas either. Just her. A pregnant woman. She’s an Alphas daughter yes, but not even his heir. That’s not random.” I swallow. “It’s deliberate?” Dom nods. “I know it is. Which means she’s part of something bigger. Something specific. And if we remove the spell now, we’ll only be warning them that we’re onto them.” I feel my blood go cold. “They’ll adapt,” he says. “Maybe choose someone else for their plan and then we lose sight of them. Or worse, decide to speed up whatever plans they have for her and that could be dangerous.” I stare at him, hea

Diana The trees part slightly. The light shifts. And there it is. Half-hidden beneath a canopy of branches and vines—Twisting arches leaning like tired sentries. A trail, thin and overgrown, but there. Waiting. Breathing. My breath catches. “I see it,” I whisper. “It’s there. Right in front of us.” Dom steps forward again, brows furrowed. He peers into the space I’m staring at, but it’s like his vision skates over it, like his eyes refuse to catch on the truth right in front of him. “I don’t see anything,” he says quietly. “But… I do feel the magic.” I blink in shock. He can’t see it. But I can. I don’t know how I know it’s real—but I do. Like something in my blood hums louder here. Like the place in front of me is whispering my name. I take a step forward. He calls my name. “Diana—wait—” “It’s okay,” I murmur, not looking back. And I walk. The moment I pass through, I feel it—like walking through a curtain of warmth and static. Not heavy. Not cold. Jus

Diana “Hi, Daddy.” I whisper. The words are small. Barely there. But they echo inside me like a bell. He looks so young. So full of life. Like he’d be the kind of man who’d sneak desserts before dinner, or wink during serious speeches just to make someone smile. A good Alpha, yes—but a better father. He was mine. And he’s gone. Dom says nothing. I can still feel him behind me, giving me this moment. I move deeper into the house, leaving the hallway of portraits behind. The corridor opens up into a smaller living area. It’s different from the grander space I passed through earlier—that must have been used to receive guests. This one is more lived-in. Softer. Cozier. Probably meant only for the family. The destruction has reached here too—furniture upturned, drawers yanked out and left open, cushions slashed and spilling faded fluff. The dark witches were looking for something. The Seal, probably. They must’ve torn the house apart trying to find it. My eyes cat

Dominicus I catch her before she hits the ground. One second she’s walking—drawn forward like a moth to flame—and the next, her knees give out. No warning. No sound. Just gone. My arms are under her before I even register the movement, catching her limp weight like instinct, like reflex. I sink to my knees, clutching her against me, stunned by the sudden silence that follows. “Diana?” Her name tears out of me. Her head lolls gently to the side, her cheek brushing my chest. Her face is so peaceful it’s wrong. There’s no tension, no awareness, not even the little furrow between her brows that she gets when she’s concentrating. “Diana,” I say again, firmer this time. I shift her slightly, try to wake her. “Dulcis. Wake up. What’s wrong?” Nothing. My breath shortens. Panic prickles up my spine like static. I press a hand to her cheek—cold. Not freezing, but colder than she should be. I gently tap her face. Once. Twice. “Hey… hey, come on,” I whisper, panic cracking my voice. “Do