All Chapters of His Dearly Beloved Luna: Chapter 11 - Chapter 20

So I dug a dark pit in my mind and buried the feeling before it had the chance to grow. Because whatever my body was trying to tell me…I'm sure It's wrong since Elias had already made himself perfectly clear. And I wasn't about to stand here inventing hope where none existed. I’d spent most of my life learning how to power through disappointment. One more wouldn’t break me. My mother had seen to that. She’d taught me how to smile after a slap. How to thank someone for criticism dressed up as advice. How to make myself smaller until no one remembered I was in the room. Compared to those years…This was manageable. I lifted my chin.“May I come in?” “Of course,” Father answered immediately. I stepped forward. Elias was still standing in the doorway, leaving only a narrow gap between himself and the frame. I turned my shoulders sideways to carefully pass so not even the fabric of my clothes could brush against his shirt. The moment I was beside him, that stran

I barely have time to catch my breath before the first sob tears through me. I shove my fist against my mouth and bite down hard, desperate to keep the sound trapped inside. The metallic taste of blood reaches my tongue, but even that doesn’t stop the tears. They spill down my face anyway. My shoulders shake with every uneven breath, and I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to force myself back under control. This isn’t the first time someone has called me less. I’ve heard worse. Weak. Useless. A burden. I’ve spent years listening to people talk about me as though I wasn’t standing right there. I’ve survived Mother’s cruelty, the pack’s judgment, and all those lonely years away from home. I’ve learned how to take the hurt and lock it somewhere no one can reach. So why does this hurt so much? Why does hearing those words from Elias feel different? I press my fist harder against my mouth as another sob escapes. He shouldn’t matter to me. He’s just a man who thinks I’m incapabl

“Why?” I cut in, looking directly at Edmund. My voice stays firm as I hold Martha’s trembling wrist. “If she was comfortable saying all of that in front of everyone here, why shouldn’t she repeat it in front of the Alpha?” “Please, Miss Sylvia,” Martha says quickly, her voice shaking. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said it.” “You meant it.” I turn my attention back to her, making sure she can see that I’m no longer the frightened girl everyone remembers. “So stand by your words.” Her face crumples. “Please don’t do this. I need this job. I have grandchildren depending on me.” For a moment, I say nothing. Then I let go, and Martha immediately pulls her arm against her chest, rubbing the sore spot while tears gather in her eyes. “I might be weak,” I tell her quietly as I step away, “but that doesn’t mean I’ll let people treat me however they want.” I glance around the kitchen before continuing, “I’m not asking anyone here to like me. I’m perfectly happy keeping to myself and

~ Elias ~ I can’t stop watching her. From where I sit, the entire office floor is visible through the glass surrounding my office. I should be paying attention to the reports waiting on my desk, the calls I need to make, and the people moving around me, but every few minutes my eyes find Sylvia again. She’s working a little farther away, close enough for me to keep her in sight without having to leave my office. Her laptop is open, and she has been focused on it since she arrived. She reads, types, pauses to check something, then continues as if nothing else in this building exists. She hasn’t looked at me once since she walked through those doors. I lean back and stare at the ceiling for a moment before my attention drifts toward her again. Her red hair is pulled back, though a few strands have fallen loose around her face. When she turns slightly, I catch a glimpse of her blue eyes fixed on the screen before she returns to whatever she’s reading. My wolf stirs immediat

The silence stretches. And Sylvia still doesn’t defend herself. She doesn’t even turn to look at Darla. She simply stands there, letting the accusation hang in the air while everyone waits to see what she will do. Then the elevator gives a soft chime, and the doors slide open. I hear Sylvia’s footsteps start again, measured and steady, and when I turn, she is already stepping inside without saying a word or giving anyone a backward glance. Her expression is blank, carefully composed, but just before the doors close, I catch something in her eyes that hits me harder than anger ever could. That same tired look. Like she expected this treatment. Like she has already accepted that this is what her life will look like wherever she goes. The doors meet, hiding her from view, and whatever restraint I had left finally snaps. I grab Darla’s wrist, my grip firm enough to make her gasp as authority rolls off me in heavy waves. I watch the change come over her almost immediately. Her knees be