Alpha’s Scumbag: Sorry My Luna のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 121 - チャプター 130

Georgia’s POVThe air in Kael’s chamber was thick with the weight of his words, the promise of truth hanging between us like a fragile thread. I sat on the edge of a carved wooden chair, my hands clasped tightly in my lap, my eyes locked on his. Kael stood by the hearth, the firelight casting shadows across his sharp features, making him look both divine and haunted. His admission that Lydia was no longer his lover had loosened something in me, but the questions still churned, about her, about why Kael’s fear seemed to pulse with a life of its own.“Start talking,” I said, my voice steadier than I felt. “I need to know everything.”Kael exhaled, his shoulders sagging as if the weight of centuries pressed down on him. “Lydia was my mate, long ago,” he began, his voice low, almost a whisper. “Not by choice, but by a ritual forced upon us by the old gods. It was meant to bind our power, to make us stronger against threats to the pack. But it was never love. Not for me.”I swallowed, the

Georgia’s POVThe world seemed to hold its breath, the mist curling around us like a living thing, heavy with Lydia’s dark magic. Kael’s hand was still in mine, his grip so tight it hurt, but I couldn’t pull away. His eyes, stormy and tormented, held mine for a heartbeat longer before he turned to face Lydia. “Lydia,” Kael said, his voice steady despite the chaos, “I won’t marry you. I won’t bind myself to you again. Not for the pack, not for the Tear, not for anything. You need to let this go.”Lydia’s face twisted, her triumph curdling into something feral. “Let it go?” she spat, her voice rising, sharp enough to cut. “You think I can just walk away from you? From us? You were mine, Kael. Mine!” Her hands clenched, and the dark tendrils in the mist surged, snapping like whips toward Sylvara’s wards. The shimmering barrier flickered, and Sylvara grunted, her knees buckling as she fought to hold it.“Kael, we don’t have time!” Sylvara shouted, her voice strained. “The wards are faili

Kael’s POV Later that evening, I was in my chamber, sitting near the hearth with a half-empty glass of wine when Karl walked in. His expression was unreadable as usual, but the faint twitch in his jaw told me he was holding back questions.“I heard what happened,” he said without preamble. “Between you and Lydia.”I let out a breath, rubbing my temple. “It’s been handled.”“Handled?” He stepped further into the room, arms crossed. “That’s all you’re going to say?”I looked up at him. “Yes.”Karl raised a brow. “Should I be worried?”“No.” I leaned back against the chair. “She’s been kept in her place. Loud and clear.”Karl stared at me for a few seconds longer, then gave a curt nod. “Good.” He walked toward the window, staring out at the darkened woods. “There’s been some murmuring about the pack house.”“What kind of murmuring?”“Just… talk. About the damage, the part that burned during the last attack. People are beginning to ask what the plan is.”I nodded slowly. “Calyx should’ve

Georgia’s POVThe plane hummed beneath us, a steady drone that should’ve lulled me to sleep but didn’t. My stomach churned with a mix of anticipation and nerves, my hands fidgeting with the edge of the tray table. Leah, sprawled in the seat next to me, had her earbuds in, bobbing her head to some upbeat tune while flipping through an in-flight magazine. She looked so relaxed.I glanced out the window, the clouds below us glowing faintly in the dawn light. Somewhere down there, thousands of miles away, Kael was waiting. Waiting for me. Waiting for Nathaniel and Nathalie. My heart squeezed at the thought of their little faces, their wobbly steps, their garbled attempts at words. They were with Ruth, their caregiver, back at the estate, probably toddling around the nursery or giggling over some toy. I hadn’t told Ruth we were coming to get the kids yet, how do you explain to one-year-olds that they’re about to see their father for a holiday? But I could already imagine their wide, curiou

Damien’s POVI sat in the sterile, too-bright waiting room, my foot tapping anxiously against the tiled floor. The last time I had spoken to Dr. Hughes was two weeks ago, over the phone. I had stumbled over my words, my face burning even though no one could see me.“I can’t ejaculate this days no matter how hard I try… finish,” I’d said, my voice tight with shame.There was a pause on the line, then the doctor spoke in his calm, professional tone.“I understand. Let’s run some tests. Hormonal panels, blood flow studies, ultrasound. It could be anything from stress to something more physiological.”That “something more” haunted me for days.Now, today, I was here for the results.The nurse finally called my name. I got up, legs slightly unsteady, and followed her down a short corridor lined with faded health posters. When she opened the door to Dr. Hughes’ office, he stood from behind his desk, offering a polite but tight smile.“Good afternoon Alpha,” he said, gesturing for me to sit.