All Chapters of I Need You, My Luna: Chapter 191 - Chapter 200

XARION'S POVIt's my father.Of course.I step back from the door and take a breath that I keep very even, because the mood I was in thirty seconds ago was the best mood I've been in for years and I'd like to preserve as much of it as possible.Wilson Luther fills the doorway, looking exactly like himself, with squared shoulders, pressed collar, and irritation barely kept in check.He looks at me.Then at Andrew.Then back at me."Leave us," he instructs Andrew, like he's forgotten Andrew answers to me, not him.Andrew, to his credit, doesn't visibly react to the tone. He just looks at me briefly, a single glance that asks a question without asking it, and I give him the smallest nod.He picks up his tablet, hooks it under his arm, and walks out without making the situation any more awkward than it already is.The door closes.My father stands in the middle of my office, and I stand near the window, and the silence between us lasts just long enough to make it clear that neither of us

MEGAN'S POVAndrew's pacing when I arrive.That's the first thing I see when my driver pulls up to Xarion's mansion, and I'm out of the car before it's fully stopped, my bag swinging off my shoulder, my heart doing a deeply unpleasant flip in my chest.Andrew never paces.In all the years I've known him, Andrew's always been the steady one. The calm one. The person standing slightly to the left of every disaster with a calm look and something useful to say.But now he's pacing.I hurry toward the entrance, Andrew's frantic voice still playing on repeat in my head."Andrew." My voice comes out breathless. "What happened? What's wrong with Xarion? Is he hurt? Is he in the hospital? Why weren't you answering your phone?"Andrew stops pacing and looks at me. There's a look on his face I don't have the headspace to figure out right now."Come inside, Megan," he says. "Quickly.""That's not an answer," I tell him, already following because I don't have another option."I know," he replies,

VANCE'S POVThree weeks.Twenty-one days, give or take, since I sat across from Megan in that lounge and watched her tell me, in the kindest way anyone has ever dismantled something I wanted, that she was choosing Xarion.I've been counting, which is its own kind of problem.I'm not usually a counter. I'm not usually the kind of person who tracks days or replays conversations or sits in his apartment at eleven in the morning on a Tuesday with the curtains half drawn and a cup of coffee that went cold an hour ago and hasn't been touched since.That's not me.Or it wasn't, anyway.Megan has called twice this week.I watched both calls come in and made the conscious decision not to pick up, and then I immediately felt terrible about that decision and made the equally conscious decision not to act on the guilt.She's texted six times across the three weeks.I've read every single one.Replied to none.The first was sent the day after the lounge, short and honest, the way Megan always is.

MEGAN'S POV “Yes, Megan,” Alpha Elias says, nodding once. “He asked if he could have a few minutes. He's been working up to it for a while, I think.” he pauses. "You don't have to, of course.""No," I reply, before I've fully processed whether I'm ready. "I'll see him."“Alpha Elias stands from behind his desk, giving my shoulder a brief, warm squeeze as he passes."I'll give you some space," he murmurs, and then he's gone, the door closing softly behind him.I sit in the silence of his office, and I take one slow breath.And then the door opens again.Vance steps inside.Four months is long enough for the little things about someone to get blurry. The way he moves. The angle of his jaw. The way he carries himself. But it's not long enough to forget someone you cared about, and seeing him again makes all of those details come rushing back.He looks like himself.More himself than the last time I saw him, at the lounge, when something had gone out of his face. That thing is back now.

MEGAN'S POV The pack official conducting the ceremony seems mildly charmed and mildly concerned at the same time, which feels about right. Xarion and I exchange rings. The twins, stationed with surprising dignity in the front row, both burst into tears at exactly the same moment, which sets off a chain reaction through the surrounding rows that includes my father, Gwen, Caitlin, Xarion's mother, and at least three pack members who I'm fairly certain have never met me personally. Wilson Luther, sitting in the second row, does not cry. But he also spent ten minutes before the ceremony finding me in a quiet corner of the estate, and what he said was brief and awkward and clearly cost him something, an apology for the way he'd treated me, for the pressure and the interference and the years of making me feel unwelcome in a place that should've been mine. It wasn't a perfect apology. He's not a man who does perfect apologies. But I accepted it carefully, the way you accept an apology