All Chapters of His Abandoned Luna: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

|| Lilac’s POV || I woke to the cold emptiness of the bed, the sheets tangled around my legs and the space beside me devoid of Alaric’s warmth. My hand reached out instinctively, brushing against the cool fabric where he had lain. The absence of his body, his heat, his steady breathing, was jarring, and I felt a pang of longing that settled deep in my chest. I missed him already, and he hadn’t even been gone long. Sitting up, I ran a hand through my disheveled hair, the faint scent of pine and earth lingering on the pillow. My gaze fell to the oversized t-shirt I wore— one of Alaric’s— its soft fabric falling to my knees. I brought the collar to my nose, inhaling deeply. It smelled like him, like the woods after a rainstorm, like warmth and safety. For a moment, it felt as though he was still here, his arms wrapped around me, his breath warm against my skin. I stood, padding over to the mirror that hung on the far wall. My reflection stared back at me, my hair a me

|| Lilac's POV ||The pack territory was breathtaking, a perfect blend of nature and community. The goddess was right. The houses were scattered discreetly among the trees, their wooden frames blending seamlessly with the surroundings. The mountains loomed in the distance, their peaks kissed by the morning sun. We walked through the woods, the path winding through tall trees and lush greenery. The air was filled with the scent of pine and earth, and the sound of a nearby stream added to the serene atmosphere. As we walked, I could feel the presence of other wolves nearby, their eyes watching us from the shadows. They didn’t approach, but their curiosity was palpable. I could sense their respect for Alaric, their Alpha, and their curiosity about me— the woman he had brought into their territory. Soon, we reached a clearing, and there it stood the packhouse. It was a magnificent structure, tall and imposing, yet somehow harmonious with

|| Alaric’s POV || The grip on the wheel tightened as I heard her. She didn’t want to be seen with me! “Are you ashamed of me?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as calm as possible. Was I not good enough? Was this because I never stood in the election or shared Kael’s dream? She bit her bottom lips for a moment. “No,” she said quickly, her heart pounding. “It’s just… complicated.” I let out a bitter laugh, the sound sharp and cutting. “Nothing is complicated here, Lilac. Either you love someone and want to be with them, or you don’t. There’s no in-between.” And that was it. As soon as I pulled over, she left. No words, no goodbye. She didn't even look at me! She just fucking left! So that's all you had to say! I watched her walk away, her figure growing smaller as she disappeared into the distance. The ache in my chest was unbearable, a mix of anger, frustration, and something deeper— something I didn’t want to name. She was mine. She had always be

|| Alaric’s POV || I stepped out of the car, the cool night air doing little to calm the storm inside me. The packhouse loomed before me, its familiar silhouette offering no comfort. I walked inside, the sound of my footsteps echoing in the empty halls. My office was my sanctuary, the one place where I could shut out the world and focus. But even there, Lilac’s presence haunted me. I sat at my desk, the files in front of me blurring as my mind wandered. The memory of her in my arms, the way she had looked at me, the way she had kissed me— it all played on a loop in my mind. But then, the doubt crept in. The way she had pulled away, the way she had questioned our bond. It gnawed at me, a constant ache in my chest. A knock on the door pulled me from my thoughts. I exhaled sharply, trying to rein in my emotions before calling out, “Come in.” The door creaked open, and Marcus stepped in, his usual smirk plastered on his face. His dark eyes gleamed with amusement

|| Kael’s POV || The heavy oak doors of the study creaked open as I stepped inside, the scent of aged wood and leather filling my nostrils. My father sat behind his desk, his expression dark and unreadable, while my mother stood by the window, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. The tension in the room was palpable, a thick fog of disappointment and frustration that made it hard to breathe. “Where have you been?” My father’s voice was low, edged with barely restrained anger, but it was his eyes that made my blood run cold. They bore into me, sharp and accusing, as if he already knew the answer but wanted the satisfaction of hearing me admit it. I didn’t flinch under his scrutiny, but my pulse pounded in my ears. My mind raced for an excuse, something that wouldn’t set him off even more. “I was busy,” I said finally, keeping my voice even, though the lie sat heavy on my tongue. His lips curled in displeasure. “Busy doing what?” Before I could r