Page 27 of Lunar's Ruined Alpha
“Thank you, Lillian. You may go. In fact, everyone may go.”
Normally, I’d insist on sticking around to discuss this new development with my father, but I’m out the door faster than anyone else. My truck is parked in my father’s driveway, and I stalk toward it.
“Where are you going?” Cal calls out after me.
“For a run,” I grunt over my shoulder.
“In your truck?”
“Heading back to my place, then going for a run,” I lie.
Cal jogs to catch up with me. “I’ll join you.”
“No.”
My cousin frowns as I hop up into the cab. I can tell he’s hurt bythe immediate and unapologetic rejection. We usually run together. We have since we were kids. It’s why I knew he’d always become my second-in-command. Cal never fails to remain dutifully at my side.
“What’s going on, man?”
I start the engine and let out a loud exhale. “Don’t worry about it.”
“You’re heading back to Whiterose territory, aren't you? At least let me watch your back.”
“Not tonight.”
I try to swing the door shut, but Cal braces a hand against it and halts the momentum. I lock eyes with him, bearing down on him with the full weight of my alpha influence until he flinches slightly and lets go. The door remains hanging open, however, as a trickle of guilt arises.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him. “There’s something—I don’t like the idea of keeping something from you, but it’s complicated. I ask that, as my Beta, you trust me for now.”
Cal works his jaw. He wants to argue, wants to demand that I tell him what’s going on. Not because he has a habit of chomping at the bit, but because it’s his instinct to collect information that serves his purpose as my Beta. He just wants to do his job well, and I’m making it difficult for him.
He takes a deep breath, then forces out a faux-calm, “All right, then.”
I nod once at him, then close the door. A moment later, I’m peeling off into the night.
It’s been two days since I last set foot in West Pond, and I’m going insane at the separation. I can barely remember how I got through the past ten years. It’s like, ever since I learned where Alina is and that my son is with her, every cell in my body is screaming for me to go to her. To reclaim her.
But I saw Kseniya in town earlier today, and it was a stark and painful reminder about why I can’t do that. I can never have Alina. Not fully.
Still, I can protect her. I can protect Noah.
It doesn’t take long for me to get to the outskirts of West Pond. The roads are mostly empty, and the route is familiar enough by nowthat I can test the speed limit without careening off the road from a sudden sharp turn.
Within half an hour, I’m pulling into the driveway of Alina’s house. The lights are on downstairs. It’s dinnertime, I think. Noah will be heading to bed soon.
I hop out of the truck and breathe in deeply as I head to the porch. There’s no sign of the sour Blackburn scent, but that doesn’t mean they can’t be lingering within a few miles of here. Those beasts can be stealthy, after all. It’s how they managed to kill Alina’s parents—by sneaking up on them.
My knock on the front door is loud and insistent.
Light, rapid footsteps follow. Alina yanks open the door, a scowl already on her perfect face. She’s barefoot, wearing leggings and an oversized tee. There’s a sponge in one hand and a soapy spatula in the other. Cleaning up after dinner, then.
“What are you doing here, Rowan? You can’t just show up out of the blue like this.”
“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”
“No, you can’t—”
“Alina.”
