Under the Blood Moon: When Alpha's Love Becomes Luna's Poison - Chapter 16: Chapter 16

After Celine died, Damien couldn't stop wondering what she'd been thinking when she signed those organ donor forms.
He never imagined that the day he dragged Piper away would be the last time he'd see his mate alive.
She'd watched him struggle with Piper so calmly, showing that same indifference she always wore—like she couldn't care less if he loved someone else.
But something told him that was the moment her heart truly died.
So she didn't wait for him to return. Didn't give him a chance to explain.
The hospital took her body for research. He couldn't even claim her ashes.
Celine had been ruthless to the very end.
Now he regretted not telling her the truth immediately—that yes, Piper was pregnant, but the pup wasn't his.
That night at the bar, she'd been drugged and assaulted in the bathroom while he was fighting off her supposed "rogue."
By the time Damien found her, it was too late.
Piper was a master manipulator. She sobbed that she never drank, that this never would have happened if he hadn't broken her heart by choosing his luna.
Damien knew it was emotional blackmail, but watching her cry reminded him painfully of Celine.
So he'd gone soft. Had the rapist arrested, paid for her abortion, gave her money to disappear.
He'd thought she was just a spoiled but harmless wolf.
He never realized he'd been harboring a venomous snake who'd been waiting for the perfect moment to strike.
Celine must have hated him when she died.
Then again, she'd abandoned him first all those years ago. What right did she have to hate him?
In his dreams, he asked her over and over: "Why did you break up with me? You loved me, didn't you? You had to have loved me."
But then Lilith would appear, shielding Celine protectively.
"Where the fuck were you when she tried to tell you?" she'd snarl. "You wouldn't listen then, and now that she's dead you want answers? You're pathetic!"
That's when he'd wake up, heart pounding.
It wasn't Lilith he feared—it was hearing Celine say she'd stopped loving him long ago.
His heart started giving him problems. The doctor urged him not to grieve so intensely.
But he insisted he was fine. Perfectly calm. He'd even taken up gardening.
On the balcony, he'd found Celine's collection of succulents—all dead by the time he noticed them.
He'd heard succulents were resilient. Maybe he could bring them back to life.
Every night he'd crouch beside the withered plants, talking to them softly.
He remembered seeing Celine do the same thing on some sunny afternoon, hugging her knees as she tended her little garden.
She'd looked up to see him walking in with another woman.
Damien slapped himself hard across the face.
He began rewriting his memories, inserting himself into all those lonely moments when Celine had been alone.
In his new version, he held her close, kissed her gently, never left her side.
At a recent pack gathering, he'd beaten a cheating Alpha bloody for bragging about his affairs.
His old friends called him crazy. "What's wrong with you?Alpha Damien.You went through women like tissue paper, and now you're judging us? Why don't you just kill yourself?"
He'd lost it completely, trashing the private room, screaming that they were all lying.
He loved his wife more than anything.
Until someone showed him photos of himself kissing Piper. He'd stared in shock before fleeing.
Someone must have set him up. Photoshopped those images.
He needed to figure out how to explain this to his wife. He couldn't bear to upset her.
Stress was so bad for her health.
He rushed home, but stepping off the elevator, he found a heavily pregnant woman waiting by his door.
He recognized her—the woman from those fake photos.
Panic seized him. Had she already spoken to Celine? Had she upset his mate with lies?
He grabbed her hair and dragged her into the stairwell, snarling, "Piper, you really have a death wish."
His hands found her throat, forcing her backward, backward, until—
She lost her footing and tumbled down the concrete stairs.
Watching the blood spread across the steps, Damien smiled.
Perfect. No one could threaten his marriage now.
Two weeks later, he was committed to a psychiatric facility.
His behavior seemed mostly normal, except for one peculiar habit.
He talked constantly to a broken wooden totem—a carved she-wolf held together with glue, cracks spider-webbing across its surface. A piece was missing from the chest area, like a heart torn away.
He kept it by his bedside, smiling at it for hours.
"Why haven't you visited me yet, sweetheart? Damien misses you so much."
"Do you miss me too?"
After a moment, his eyes would fill with tears.
"I forgot," he'd whisper. "People without hearts don't know how to miss anyone."
Then he'd remember.
He'd lost luna Celine's heart long, long ago...