All Chapters of The Alpha’s Dead Luna: Chapter 81 - Chapter 90

JULIANI knew I would have to tell her that night.The knowledge sat heavy in my chest all through dinner.Afterward, while Emily stayed behind in the kitchen to help Linda with the dishes, I went down the hall to Gabby’s room to make sure the boy was getting ready for bed.He was already sitting on the mattress when I stepped inside, wearing nothing but a thin pair of cotton pajama bottoms. His hair was still damp from washing, and he grinned when he saw me.“Already washed up?” I asked.“Yes, Papa.”I walked over and lifted his hands, inspecting them carefully. They were clean. Then I reached out and gently tugged one of his earlobes between my fingers, rubbing it lightly.“Ears?”“Yes, Papa. I washed my face and hands and feet and ears and brushed my hair!”“Teeth?”His expression darkened immediately.I raised an eyebrow.“Brush your teeth,” I said with firm paternal authority.He scowled but slid off the bed and trudged obediently toward the washroom.A few minutes later he retur

EMILY When Julian left, I drifted toward the glass doors that opened onto the balcony and pushed them wide. The sheer white drapes billowed inward with the breeze, brushing softly against my skin as I stepped out.Below, the street bustled with the ordinary rhythm of a small town, and I found it unexpectedly comforting.Women walked arm in arm beneath parasols, their laughter floating upward as they chatted and carried little shopping bags. A few mothers strolled with their children, and across the way, a small boy kicked a ball along the boardwalk. It bounced wildly and struck a well-dressed gentleman in a blue linen jacket and crisp white trousers. He paused, clearly offended, and began scolding the child.I smiled faintly.Nearby, a farmer dressed in simple cotton and sandals emerged from a saloon alongside a fisherman still wearing knee-high rubber boots. Moments later, two dusty vaqueros pushed their way inside, replacing them.It all felt so… alive.So normal.After a while, my

JULIANThe pack priest in the town just outside Matamoros flat-out refused to marry us.He looked at me first and asked if I was a pack member. I didn’t hesitate. I met his gaze and answered in the affirmative without blinking, my tone steady, my expression unchanged. He took my word for it an outright lie, though he didn’t know it.Then he turned to Emily.That was where things began to unravel.She went red almost instantly, and instead of giving a simple answer, she launched into a detailed account of her family history, something I had not anticipated. I jabbed her sharply in the ribs, a silent warning to keep it brief, but she barely reacted. If anything, she pushed forward with even more detail. Her grandmother had been a west pack member. Her mother’s parents had been members as well… Irish, too, she added, as though that would somehow help her case.The priest pressed her for more relevant information, and with each question, Emily only grew redder and more flustered.“Well… I

JULIAN“Now what?” Emily whispered, her voice thin with fear, barely more than breath against my chest.“We’re jumping,” I said grimly.I didn’t give her time to argue. My arm locked around her waist and I pushed us both out through the glass doors before she could so much as draw in a proper protest.We landed on the balcony and froze instantly, flattening ourselves against the glass, directly beneath the overhanging edge of the roof. My senses sharpened immediately.Because I thought I had heard something.From above.I stilled completely and listened. But I heard nothing. Not a damn thing.But I didn’t move. I kept listening, every nerve stretched tight. Emily’s breathing came harsh and uneven, too loud in the silence, and in my arms she was trembling—small, uncontrollable tremors that made it harder to focus.I shut everything else out.Waited.And then a faint, unmistakable sound.A piece of tile scraping loose.It skittered over the edge of the roof and dropped, hitting the grou

JULIAN We never stood a chance. Not once the Alessandro and his hired army closed in around us. One moment I was still fighting to stay upright in the saddle, the next, a dozen agents were on me—hands everywhere, dragging me down, slapping irons on my wrists, hauling me onto a horse like I was nothing more than cargo.I barely stayed conscious on the ride back. The pain in my neck burned and throbbed with every jolt of the horse beneath me, blood loss making the world tilt and blur at the edges. Crossing the border felt like it took forever, and the hard gallop dragged on endlessly. If I didn’t slump off that saddle, it wasn’t strength keeping me there, it was anger. Pride. Sheer stubborn refusal to collapse in front of them.I didn’t see Emily. Not once. I knew she was back there somewhere, surrounded by his men like I was some kind of disease they had to quarantine her from.By the time we reached town, I was half-dead on my feet. They threw me into a cell without ceremony, and a p