His Luna Was Never Me - Chapter 15: Chapter 15
You are reading His Luna Was Never Me, Chapter 15: Chapter 15. Read more chapters of His Luna Was Never Me.
Ronan's face was a picture of stunned disbelief as the damning recording played from my phone. His eyes widened, the festive atmosphere of the room dissolving into thick, suffocating tension. Adeline's panic twisted her features as she lunged for the device, fingers clawing desperately. "Anastasia, how could you do this to me?" Her voice was shrill, bordering on hysterical.
I dodged her frantic grab, my pulse hammering with a mix of vindication and cold fury. "You forced my hand," I shot back, my tone sharp as ice.
Ronan snapped out of his daze with violent clarity. He shoved Adeline so hard she crashed onto the shattered glass littering the floor. Her scream—raw and piercing—ripped through the murmurs of the crowd. The guests stood frozen, eyes wide with horror as the scene unfolded.
Ignoring the fresh wounds, Adeline scrambled toward Ronan, clutching at his pant leg with bloodied fingers. "It's not what you think! I can explain! I loved you—but you all chose her! I was just trying to keep you!" Her voice cracked under the weight of desperation.
Ronan didn't hesitate. He kicked her away, his expression carved from stone. She collapsed back onto the glass, her cries more ragged now, her control slipping with every sob.
"Ronan!" she wailed, voice breaking. "You promised to cherish me forever! Why are you doing this?"
His gaze locked onto her, cold and unyielding. "The kindness I showed you was borrowed," he said, voice steady. "And it was never meant for you."
Then he turned to me, concern etching deep lines into his face. "Anastasia, are you okay?" His hand reached out—
I recoiled. "Don't touch me." The sight of him, broken and pleading, only solidified my resolve. He wasn't worth another second of my pain.
Before he could respond, the crowd parted. Alpha Atlas moved like a storm, effortless and commanding, sweeping me into his arms as if I weighed nothing. His voice was a deep, velvety rumble, laced with dark amusement. "How did you survive growing up with these miserable people?"
The words, so casually cruel, brought fresh tears to my eyes. The air between us crackled—something primal, electric. My human senses had always been drawn to his presence, but now, my wolf howled in restless longing. It had waited too long, endured too much. Now, it craved him—his scent, rich with earth and pine, sharp with wild musk.
Atlas was intoxicating. His wolf was dominance incarnate, an Alpha whose mere aura demanded submission. And mine? It wanted nothing more than to press closer, to bask in his power.
Ronan's voice shattered the moment. "You have no right to hold her! Let her go!" He advanced, fists clenched, fury radiating off him.
Atlas turned, his gaze glacial. "And you do?"
Realization struck Ronan like a lightning bolt. "What the hell did you do? Why can't I feel our bond anymore? Did you steal my mate, you bastard?" His roar sent shockwaves through the room.
But the truth was simple: Atlas hadn't stolen me. Our wolves had chosen each other—inevitable after years of neglect. Mine had longed for a true Alpha, and now, it had found one.
I couldn't stand the sight of Ronan any longer. "Just leave," I said, voice firm. "Get lost."
He staggered back as if struck. The betrayal in his eyes was almost pitiable. Without another word, he turned and walked away, the room deathly silent in his wake.
Atlas carried me to the Obsidian Howl Pack's infirmary, where my wounds were tended with surprising gentleness.
By the next day, Adeline's name was mud across the continent.
As for Ronan? He haunted the pack borders night after night, refusing to disappear. I finally cut him loose for good—returning his belongings, his wealth, every last thread tying us together. Still, he lingered.
Then, one evening after Atlas had visited, I found Ronan kneeling at the border, waiting.
I dodged her frantic grab, my pulse hammering with a mix of vindication and cold fury. "You forced my hand," I shot back, my tone sharp as ice.
Ronan snapped out of his daze with violent clarity. He shoved Adeline so hard she crashed onto the shattered glass littering the floor. Her scream—raw and piercing—ripped through the murmurs of the crowd. The guests stood frozen, eyes wide with horror as the scene unfolded.
Ignoring the fresh wounds, Adeline scrambled toward Ronan, clutching at his pant leg with bloodied fingers. "It's not what you think! I can explain! I loved you—but you all chose her! I was just trying to keep you!" Her voice cracked under the weight of desperation.
Ronan didn't hesitate. He kicked her away, his expression carved from stone. She collapsed back onto the glass, her cries more ragged now, her control slipping with every sob.
"Ronan!" she wailed, voice breaking. "You promised to cherish me forever! Why are you doing this?"
His gaze locked onto her, cold and unyielding. "The kindness I showed you was borrowed," he said, voice steady. "And it was never meant for you."
Then he turned to me, concern etching deep lines into his face. "Anastasia, are you okay?" His hand reached out—
I recoiled. "Don't touch me." The sight of him, broken and pleading, only solidified my resolve. He wasn't worth another second of my pain.
Before he could respond, the crowd parted. Alpha Atlas moved like a storm, effortless and commanding, sweeping me into his arms as if I weighed nothing. His voice was a deep, velvety rumble, laced with dark amusement. "How did you survive growing up with these miserable people?"
The words, so casually cruel, brought fresh tears to my eyes. The air between us crackled—something primal, electric. My human senses had always been drawn to his presence, but now, my wolf howled in restless longing. It had waited too long, endured too much. Now, it craved him—his scent, rich with earth and pine, sharp with wild musk.
Atlas was intoxicating. His wolf was dominance incarnate, an Alpha whose mere aura demanded submission. And mine? It wanted nothing more than to press closer, to bask in his power.
Ronan's voice shattered the moment. "You have no right to hold her! Let her go!" He advanced, fists clenched, fury radiating off him.
Atlas turned, his gaze glacial. "And you do?"
Realization struck Ronan like a lightning bolt. "What the hell did you do? Why can't I feel our bond anymore? Did you steal my mate, you bastard?" His roar sent shockwaves through the room.
But the truth was simple: Atlas hadn't stolen me. Our wolves had chosen each other—inevitable after years of neglect. Mine had longed for a true Alpha, and now, it had found one.
I couldn't stand the sight of Ronan any longer. "Just leave," I said, voice firm. "Get lost."
He staggered back as if struck. The betrayal in his eyes was almost pitiable. Without another word, he turned and walked away, the room deathly silent in his wake.
Atlas carried me to the Obsidian Howl Pack's infirmary, where my wounds were tended with surprising gentleness.
By the next day, Adeline's name was mud across the continent.
As for Ronan? He haunted the pack borders night after night, refusing to disappear. I finally cut him loose for good—returning his belongings, his wealth, every last thread tying us together. Still, he lingered.
Then, one evening after Atlas had visited, I found Ronan kneeling at the border, waiting.
End of His Luna Was Never Me Chapter 15. Continue reading Chapter 16 or return to His Luna Was Never Me book page.