The Sickened Luna's Last Chance - Chapter 83: Chapter 83

Ella
The media storm began within hours.
Apparently, someone in the hospital waiting room had recorded Alexander marking me on their phone. By the time we got home, the footage was already all over social media.
Thankfully, Alexander marking me wasn’t discovered—his body had conveniently blocked the view of what had really happened. That was a relief, at least.
But people wanted to know why I had come running out of the exam room in nothing but a hospital gown. And more than that, they wanted to know why I had collapsed and been rushed away by the nurses.
And knowing how relentless the internet could be, I knew it would only be a matter of time before people found out the truth.
I was sitting in the living room the morning after the incident, scrolling through the comments on one such particular post speculating on my condition, when Alexander practically came barreling into the room with his phone clutched in his hand.
“I’ve got a plan,” he said.
Of course he had a plan. Everything was always about strategy with him.
“We’re going to announce the pregnancy. I just hired a photographer to come and do a photoshoot, and we’ll do a press release first thing tomorrow morning.”
My heart jumped, phone slipping from my fingers, forgotten. “We’re going public with the baby?”
“It’s the only way to control the narrative.”
Controlling the narrative. Right. I supposed, in a naive way, I had hoped that marking me might change everything. That maybe Alexander had feelings for me after all, and we could just announce the pregnancy as a real, loving couple.
But that was silly of me; he only marked me to save the child, and he was only going public because it was the most logical course of action. Not because he was excited about showing off our little family.
I nodded and shoved down the hollow feeling in my chest, not just for myself, but so he couldn’t sense it through the newly formed bond. “When?”
“She’ll be here in two hours.”
The photoshoot was scheduled for the mansion’s garden, where the late afternoon light would be most flattering. I spent an hour getting ready—hair curled and pinned in an elegant updo, makeup applied to perfection, dressed in a flowing cream-colored dress that hugged my still-flat belly.
When I looked in the mirror, I barely recognized myself. The sickness had stolen so much from me over the past months. My color, my strength, my confidence. But now, with my wolf back and the mark fresh on my neck, I looked radiant.
Healthy. Happy. Like a Luna who was deeply in love with her Alpha.
If only it were real.
The photographer arrived before I knew it, and soon we were being swept out into the gardens, where she had already set up her various cameras and equipment. She ushered me over to the bench beneath the cherry tree, although the pink petals were all gone now, green with the promise of a hot and long summer.
While the photographer rushed around making sure every little detail was perfect, Alexander appeared at my side. He’d changed into a charcoal gray suit that emphasized his broad shoulders, although I tried not to think about how stupidly handsome he looked.
I also tried not to think about how delicious it had felt to have his mouth on my neck.
But my efforts, apparently, were futile. Alexander shot me an arch look. “Can you tone it back a little? It feels like the mate bond is on fire.”
My face went aflame, and I quickly slammed up my mental defenses, cutting off the bond so quickly that it made my wolf whine in protest. “Sorry. Still getting used to it. My wolf…”
“Don’t blame me!” my wolf chuffed. “You want him just as much as I—”
“Are we ready?” The photographer’s voice cut through the awkwardness, which I was thankful for. I quickly nodded and shoved my wolf down, all the while ensuring that my mental blocks were firmly in place.
And it was an easy task, considering the fact that the first poses were simple enough: Alexander and I sitting together on the stone bench, his arm around my shoulders, both of us looking directly at the camera. Professional. Composed. A little close for comfort, but I was still capable of keeping the bond neutral.
Until the photographer started asking for more intimate shots.
“Alpha, could you place your hand on Luna Ella’s stomach? We want to emphasize the pregnancy.”
Alexander’s large hand settled over my belly, his fingers splaying wide in a gesture that was both protective and possessive. I tried to ignore the flutter in my chest at his touch, the way my body immediately responded to his proximity, the bond flickering like a candle flame.
He was just playing his part. Nothing more.
“Beautiful,” the photographer murmured, snapping away. “Now, Luna, lean back against him slightly. Like you trust him completely.”
My heart thudded violently, but I did as she asked and cautiously let my head rest against Alexander’s shoulder. I must have looked like a deer in headlights, because the photographer giggled and said, “No need to be shy, Luna!”
“Here.” Alexander’s deep voice practically vibrated against my back as he tugged me closer, one hand coming up to stroke my hair.
Goddess, I felt like I was going to die.
But I would certainly die happy in this little lie we had built. Because for those moments, as the photographer snapped pictures of us in increasingly romantic poses, I could almost forget that it was all for show.
Almost.
Three days later, the photos were everywhere, and we had hit our mark. The photographer had truly outdone herself, creating an image of a loving couple with an heir on the way. Before I knew it, the entire pack was buzzing with the news, and the incident in the hospital waiting room was explained away as early pregnancy complications that had been resolved thanks to my mate’s presence.
And the pictures… They were everything the photographer had promised. Intimate. Elegant. Tender.
Like a real couple in love and not… Whatever we were.
I’d downloaded every single image to my phone and found myself scrolling through them at odd moments throughout the day. Not because I was narcissistic, but because looking at them felt like glimpsing into an alternate reality where everything I’d ever wanted was actually true.
In the photos, Alexander’s eyes held warmth when he looked at me. His touches seemed genuine rather than performative. The way he held me looked like love instead of duty.
I knew it was dangerous to torture myself this way, but I couldn’t help it. For just a few stolen moments, I could pretend that the tender expression on his face was real. I could let my silly little heart believe that when he’d whispered sweet nothings in my ear during the shoot, he’d meant every word.
“Ella?”
My head snapped up as Alexander stepped into the room. His eyes immediately flicked to the phone in my hand, where one such picture—one depicting us standing beneath the cherry tree, foreheads pressed together, fingers tangled over my belly—was on display.
I’d been staring at it. Again.
Face flushing, I quickly shut my phone off and shoved it into my pocket. “Yes?”
Alexander studied my face for a long moment without answering, and I fought not to squirm under his intense scrutiny. Could he somehow tell what I’d been doing? Could he sense my pathetic longing through our new mate bond?
I’d tried my best not to show my emotions through the bond, of course. It hadn’t been easy, especially not with my wolf pining for that connection every chance she got, but I couldn’t let him see just how utterly and stupidly lovesick I was these days.
Blame it on the hormones.
Finally, Alexander stepped into the room, loosening his tie.
“I just got off the phone with Liam,” he said.
“Oh?” I sat up a little straighter, watching as Alexander crossed to the window. He looked out for a long moment, and the tension in his shoulders made my stomach sink. I braced myself for bad news.
But then Alexander turned, and for the briefest of moments, a radiant smile flickered across his face. “He gave me a good score,” he said. “I’m advancing to the real election phase.”