All Chapters of My Ex's Uncle Claims Me as His Luna: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

Samuel’s POVThe room felt different with just Charlotte and me in it. Larger somehow, but also more tense, like the air before a thunderstorm. I stood near the window, my mind still reeling from everything that had happened in the last hour.Charlotte was alive. After five years of searching, of following dead-end leads, of refusing to accept that she was gone—she was actually here, standing in our living room.“She’s quite attached to the nanny,” Charlotte said, breaking the silence that had fallen between us.I turned to find her moving around the room with the ease of someone reclaiming familiar territory. She picked up a framed photo from the mantelpiece—Annie’s sixth birthday party—and examined it closely before setting it down in a different position.“Layla has been wonderful with Annie,” I said carefully. “The progress she’s made with her therapy—”“Yes, I could see that,” Charlotte interrupted. She moved to another photo, this one showing Annie taking her first assisted steps

Samuel’s POVCharlotte pulled away from the kiss, her face wet with fresh tears. She wiped her cheeks roughly, leaving red marks where her fingers dragged across the skin.“I always wondered,” she said, “if you had chosen Barbara as your Luna instead of me.”“What? Charlotte, that’s absurd. I never—”“Don’t lie to me, Samuel.” Her voice rose sharply. “You think I didn’t know? You think I couldn’t see how she looked at you, how she hung on your every word?”“Barbara was your sister. She was here because—”“Because she was in love with you!” Charlotte shouted, her composure cracking completely. “She was always in love with you, from the moment you and I started dating. And you were too naive to see it.”I stared at my wife, seeing the five years of pain and abandonment written across her face in harsh lines.“Charlotte, I swear to you, there was never anything between Barbara and me. Never.”“Wasn’t there?” she demanded. “Then why did you let her stay here for so long while I was gone? W

Samuel’s POVLayla tried to pull her hand away, but I caught her wrist gently and turned her palm upward. Her fingertips were bright red, the skin already beginning to blister where the hot water had hit.“Goddess, Layla,” I breathed. “These are second-degree burns.”“They’re fine,” she insisted, trying to tug free from my grip. “I just need to run some cold water—”“Kitchen,” I said firmly, not letting go of her wrist. “Now.”She flinched when my fingers tightened around her arm, as if my touch burned worse than the scalding water had. Her whole body trembled—not just her injured hand, but her shoulders, her legs, even her breathing came in quick, shallow gasps.“Samuel, really, I can handle—”“No arguing,” I interrupted, already pulling her toward the kitchen doorway. “This needs proper treatment.”She stumbled slightly as I guided her down the hallway, her feet unsteady beneath her. Under the harsh lights of the kitchen, I could see how pale she’d become, how the tears she’d been fi

Layla’s POVMy belongings fit into two small suitcases—a reminder of how little I’d actually brought to this house, and how little I would take when I left. The room looked exactly as it had on my first day, impersonal and temporary.I carried the suitcases downstairs and set them by the front door. The house felt different now, like I was already a ghost haunting spaces where I no longer belonged.In the elegant foyer, I reached into my purse and pulled out the car key Samuel had given me months ago. I placed it gently on the storage table beside the door, next to the crystal bowl where the family kept their own keys.It looked small and insignificant there, just another piece of metal among many.I memorized everything now—the fresh flowers Mrs. Hayes arranged every Tuesday, the family photos that lined the hallway, the carved bannister I’d run my hand along countless times. This house had felt like home in a way nowhere else ever had.But it wasn’t my home. It never had been.I walk

Layla’s POVThe Alpha Council building was crowded with people as the second round of the Chairman election drew to a close. Pack members from across the territories crowded into every available space.I’d thrown myself into work over the past week since leaving Samuel’s house, arriving at the council building before dawn and staying until the security guards practically had to escort me out.My colleagues attributed my grimly workaholic nature to pre-election stress, and I let them believe it. Better that than trying to explain the real reason I couldn’t bear to allow myself to think about anything but work.“Ballot box seven needs another counter,” Elder Raymond announced from his position at the central desk. “Layla, Cora, you’re assigned there.”I gathered my supplies—red ink pens, correction fluid, stamping pad—and followed Cora to the small table positioned near the back wall of the counting area. The repetitive work of marking and counting was a welcome distraction, though I fou