Semua Bab The Alpha’s Rejected Human Luna: Bab 21 - Bab 30

*Ronan*The council chamber smells like old wood and older resentment.I stand at the head of the long table, arms folded, watching the elders file in. Malric takes his usual seat at the far end—the position of a man who wants to see everything and control the conversation from a distance.Six of them in total. Gray heads, lined faces, centuries of tradition pooled in their bones. They built this pack before I was born. They'll try to outlast me if they can."Thank you for coming," I say, not meaning it.Malric's thin smile says he knows."We requested this meeting, Alpha," he says smoothly. "There are concerns that must be addressed.""Then address them."The elder to Malric's right—Vera, sharp-eyed and sharp-tongued—leans forward."The girl," she says. "The human. Whatever she is.""My mate," I correct quietly."Your curse," Malric counters. "Let us not dress it in pretty words. The full moon revealed what she truly is. Half-shifted. Eyes like a wolf's. The prophecy made flesh."The

*Lilah* The morning air tastes different outside the main house. Cleaner. Wilder. Threaded with pine and damp earth and something underneath that hums against my skin—the collective heartbeat of a hundred wolves going about their lives. "Stay close," Cassian says as we step through the main gates. "And try not to start any revolutions before lunch." "No promises," I mutter, but my attention is already drifting. The compound spreads out before me like a small village. I've seen pieces of it from windows—rooftops, smoke curling from chimneys, figures moving between buildings. But being *in* it is different. Real. Leo flanks my other side, silent and watchful. Between the two of them, I'm the most protected—and most watched—human in wolf history. "Training fields are to the left," Cassian says, nodding toward an open expanse where wolves spar in human and half-shifted forms. The crack of fists meeting flesh echoes across the morning air. "Weapons training beyond that. Obstacle cou

*Lilah*I wake up to cold sheets and an empty bed.For a moment, I just lie there, blinking at the ceiling, waiting for the warmth beside me to return.It doesn't.I turn my head. The pillow still holds the impression of his head, the faintest trace of his scent—pine and smoke and something darker. But the man himself is gone.There is no note on the nightstand. There is no lingering kiss on my forehead. No whispered promise to return.Just... absence.I sit up slowly, wincing at the ache in my muscles. My body remembers everything from last night—every touch, every kiss, every moment where I lost myself in him and thought maybe, *maybe*, this was real.The bond hums quietly in my chest, distant and muted. He's awake somewhere, doing Alpha things, being important.And I'm here.Alone.Marked by his touch but not his bite.Something cold settles in my stomach.*What did you expect?* a voice whispers. *Breakfast in bed? Declarations of love? He's an Alpha with a rival Alpha in his terri

*Lilah*Sleep doesn't come.I lie in the dark, staring at the ceiling, replaying everything on an endless loop.Ronan's hands on my skin last night. The way he said my name like a prayer. The bond blazing so bright I thought I might dissolve into it.And then—morning. Cold sheets. Empty room. His absence was like a slap.*He left you.*Jax's voice, smooth and knowing, slides through my memory.*He puts his pack before you every time. That's what he's always done.*I roll onto my side, pressing my face into the pillow. The fabric is cool against my flushed skin.The worst part isn't that Jax said it.The worst part is that I can't argue.Ronan had reasons. I know that. Jax's arrival, the political pressure, the need to show strength. Alpha things. Important things.But knowing the reasons doesn't make the hurt go away.*Do you really trust a man who chose everyone else over his Luna in the last life?*My chest aches. I press my palm flat against my sternum, as if I could hold the feeli

*Lilah*The training yard is empty at dawn.That's why I chose it.No audience. No whispers. No wolves watching the human Luna stumble through exercises designed for creatures three times her strength.Just me, the cold morning air, and the punching bag Cassian strung up last week.I hit it.Again. Again. Again.My knuckles ache. My shoulders burn. Sweat drips into my eyes, stinging, blurring my vision.I don't stop.*Tomorrow, I claim ground.*The words from last night echo in my skull, driving each punch.*Their war waits.*I hit harder.The bag swings, creaking on its chain. The impact jolts up my arms into my spine. Pain blossoms across my knuckles—split skin, probably. I'll deal with it later.Right now, I need this.The burn. The focus. The feeling of doing something instead of being done to."Starting without me?"I spin, and the fists raised.Cassian stands at the edge of the yard, arms folded, one eyebrow arched. He's dressed for training—loose clothes, bare feet, hair tied b