All Chapters of In Search of Liberation: Luna In name Only: Chapter 41 - Chapter 50

Sempa shimmered under the late morning haze, its towering council building rising like a fortress of glass and steel above the city. The summit grounds were crowded, sleek cars lined up in neat rows, guards in uniform posted at every entrance, and wolves from all ranks moving briskly through the courtyard. The scent of power lingered thick in the air, laced with dominance, ambition, and deception.Patrick stepped out of the car, his mind a chaos of irritation and anxiety. Rebecca followed, adjusting her sunglasses, while Clifford hurried ahead to open the heavy glass doors leading into the building. The cool air-conditioning inside hit them like a slap. It smelled faintly of polish and incense, expensive, sterile, calculated.The meeting was still in session. Patrick could hear the low hum of voices from the main chamber, the rise and fall of arguments, the occasional slam of a fist on the table. The Council of Alphas never did anything quietly.He hated being here, hated the way the

(Back To Michelle and Jason.)The soft amber light of evening seeped into the guest room through half-drawn curtains. The air still carried the faint scent of rain and pine from the forest beyond, mixing with something heavier, sweat, skin, and the quiet, unmistakable trace of intimacy.Michelle stirred first. For a moment, she didn’t know where she was. Then warmth, steady, alive, pressed against her cheek, and she realised her head was resting on Jason’s chest. His heartbeat was slow, calm, hypnotic. His arm was wrapped around her protectively, his breath fanning over her hair.It hit her all at once.The night. The trembling hands. The way he had touched her, not with ownership or dominance, but with care, reverence even.Her chest fluttered. Giddy. Nervous. A little afraid.She turned her head slightly and peered up at him. Jason was still asleep, his face softened in rest, the tension that usually guarded his expression gone. In the dim light, he looked younger, almost boyish, an

The candlelight from the restaurant table cast a warm glow across Michelle’s face. She looked at peace. The tension that usually lived in her shoulders had softened, and there was even a spark of playfulness in her eyes as she looked around the softly lit dining room. Jason smiled at her across the table, his hand loosely clasping the stem of his glass. “So, do you like it?” he asked. She looked around slowly, the flickering candles, the faint hum of conversation, the smell of roasted lamb, and nodded. “It’s been a long time since I came on a date,” she said softly.“Thank you.” Her voice carried a shy sincerity that tugged at him. When she smiled, it wasn’t the polite mask she usually wore in public; it was real, quiet, and filled with something fragile. Jason reached across the table, his fingers brushing against hers. “You deserve it.” The touch startled her, and she looked down quickly, cheeks warming. Her shyness only made her more irresistible. It was strange, after ev

Two days had passed in quiet defiance of the world outside. The summit in Sempa was winding down, and Range pack was strangely calm, too calm, like the silence before a storm.For Michelle, those forty-eight hours had felt like a reprieve from hell. For Jason, they had been both heaven and torture.He had given her everything he could, time, laughter, warmth, protection. He’d made her eat, made her smile, made her remember what it felt like to be treated gently. He never mentioned Victoria again; he didn’t want Michelle to know he’d ended things. That truth might make her feel responsible, and guilt was the last thing he wanted from her.He wanted her light. Her smile. Her peace.Every time she laughed, his heart tightened. Every time she reached for him without fear, something inside him healed. And yet, every time he looked at the faint mark on her neck, Patrick’s mark, the old rage returned.He told himself he could live with it, that being near her was enough. But he knew it wasn’

Michelle sat in the living room, motionless, her eyes fixed on the television but not really watching. The air in the house felt tight, suffocating, heavy with the weight of dread. Outside, through the thin lace curtains, she heard the low growl of an engine drawing near.Patrick’s car.Her stomach clenched. Every muscle in her body tensed in anticipation.He was home.It had been two days since he’d left for the summit, and every passing hour of his absence had felt like borrowed time. With Jason gone that morning, the house had fallen silent again, and now that silence was about to break.The familiar crunch of tyres on gravel made her heart beat faster. She inhaled sharply, steeling herself. Her wolf, Mia, stirred uneasily within her, restless, anxious.He’s back, Mia whispered. We’re not ready.Michelle swallowed hard. She wasn’t ready. She would never be ready.Before he came inside, she had already scrubbed every trace of Jason from her body, the scent, the warmth, the memory. S