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

(Natalie's POV)I pushed my plate away, feeling satisfied after another surprisingly delicious meal. Florian had prepared venison steak with herbs that reminded me of home—the real home in Moonhaven, not the prison that was the Silverstone pack house."You should stop cooking," I commented, watching him methodically cutting his meat. "Aren't Alphas supposed to have others cook for them?"Florian didn't look up, continuing to eat without expression. There was something mechanical about the way he consumed food—as if it were merely fuel rather than something to enjoy."I'll stop when you're healthy," he replied simply.I couldn't help but notice how his amber eyes constantly assessed me, checking my plate to ensure I'd eaten enough. The intensity of his care was both comforting and unnerving.Later that evening, I was attempting to study, my textbook propped open on my knees as I sat on the bed. The small apartment didn't have proper lighting for reading, but I needed to prepare fo

(Natalie's POV)Florian studied my face with those penetrating amber eyes. The intensity of his gaze made me shift uncomfortably on the sofa."Actually," he finally said, his lips curving into a knowing smile, "you've used the hunter mentality more than once in Silvercrest Valley."I frowned, not understanding what he meant. "How so?""Think about it," he encouraged, leaning forward slightly. "You've been using everyone as your chess pieces or prey—the Silverstone pack, the Redwood pack, even me."His words sent a chill down my spine. Had I been that transparent?"The entire Silvercrest Valley was your hunting ground," he continued, seeming more impressed than offended. "You naturally switch roles, create chaos while emerging unscathed, hunt with precision, and achieve your goals."I remained silent, processing his assessment. It wasn't entirely wrong."As you said yourself about that painting—why should the protagonist be a small boat?" His eyes glinted with appreciation. "Bre

(Natalie's POV)I set down my brush, suddenly aware of how long I'd been standing at the canvas. My body ached from the intensity of creation, but my mind felt lighter, clearer. The painting before me—"Rebirth"—captured something I hadn't been able to express in words.Florian stood beside me, his paint-stained hand still held up as if frozen in place. His amber eyes moved from the painting to my face and back again, filled with something that looked like wonder."This is..." he began, then fell silent, seemingly at a loss for words.I watched him study the artwork—the burning background, the puppet strings now cut, the silver-blue streak of his own contribution extinguishing the flames. He understood what I had painted: my life story, my transformation, my rebirth."Your hand," he said finally, "it can also serve as a painting tool?"I wiped my own hands on a cloth, a small smile playing at my lips. "Breaking rules, as you said today—anything in this world can be used for painti

(Florian's POV)The afternoon dragged on as we continued our discussion, moving from the territory expansion project to various other family matters. My father, Magnus, was particularly interested in the Eastern Territory market penetration, asking pointed questions about timelines and resources."The Eastern Territory represents our greatest opportunity for expansion," he noted, scrolling through the projections on his tablet. "But their markets are notoriously difficult to enter."I leaned back in my chair, watching how my proposal had transformed from a simple art gallery into a comprehensive market strategy. This was the Nightshade way—never doing anything by half measures."The cultural approach is innovative," Bernard admitted grudgingly. "Less resistance than direct territorial claims."Derek nodded. "Art first, then commerce, then influence. A gentler conquest."When the meeting finally concluded, Derek and I left the conference room first, leaving our father and uncle to

(Third-person's POV)The venison restaurant buzzed with energy as wolves from the New Zealand Academy of Art gathered to celebrate Full Moon Eve. Laughter and animated conversations filled the air as multiple tables were pushed together to accommodate the large group of twenty-five students.Samuel Carter's eyes narrowed as he watched Natalie Silverstone chatting comfortably with Charlotte Reed. His resentment had been building since she'd ignored his greeting earlier."You know," he said loudly enough for nearby wolves to hear, "some people get so caught up in their success that they forget who they used to know."Conversations around them quieted as others sensed the brewing conflict.Natalie continued her conversation with Charlotte, seemingly oblivious to Samuel's comment."I suppose that's what happens when you become a high and mighty pure art beauty," Samuel added, his voice dripping with sarcasm.This time, Natalie turned slightly, acknowledging his presence with a cool