Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 67

< Alpha’s Discarded Luna

Chapter 65

Talia’s POV

The teacher’s voice is professional, expectant. “Mrs.

Perseus? Are you coming to the school? Aeson’s been in an

altercation.”

Mrs. Perseus. Not Talia. Not Talia. Just an appendage, a title

attached to a man who doesn’t want me.

“Sorry.” My voice comes out flat, detached. “You have the

wrong number.”

A pause. Confusion ripples through the line. “Wrong number?

Isn’t this Aeson Perseus’s mother?”

“No.” The word is calm, final. “I’m just the nanny.”

I hang up before she can respond.

The phone rings again instantly. Different number.

“Hello, is this Robin Thorne’s guardian? There’s been an incident at school. Can you come immediately?”

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My heart lurches. “What happened to Robin? Is he okay?”

“He was involved in a physical altercation with another student. He’s been injured. Please come as soon as possible.”

“I’m on my way.”

I hang up and turn to Electra, fear and anger warring in my

chest. “Robin’s hurt. I have to go.”

Her face shifts to concern. “Go. I’ll handle things here. Call me when you know something.”

The kindergarten is forty minutes away. Forty minutes of

imagining worst–case scenarios, of picturing Robin’s small face bruised and tear–streaked, of rage building at whoever hurt him. The traffic is miserable, each red light an eternity.

When I finally reach the school and approach the office door,

voices filter through the wood.

“-bullies Aeson constantly. Look at these injuries. Today

he actually hit him. Aires, we can’t let this slide. When his

parents arrive, we need to demand answers.”

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I freeze. That voice–Nick. Of course he’s here. Wherever

there’s drama to amplify, Nick appears.

Aires’s response is cool, clipped, unmistakable. “Agreed.”

I pause, hand raised to knock. Then I push through the door.

“Sorry I’m late.”

A child’s voice rings out, sharp with accusation. “What are you doing here?”

Aeson sits in Imema’s arms, cradled like something precious,

his small face pressed against her shoulder. His eyes meet mine, and his chin lifts in that familiar, defiant gesture I know

so well.

“The nanny has no right to be here!”

The words land like slaps. He’s angry–at me for not coming

when his teacher called, for saying I wasn’t his mother. In his

mind, this is another performance, another manipulation. Imema has taught him well.

Imema’s expression morphs into practiced surprise. “Ms.

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< Chapter 65

Perseus? What are you-” She catches herself, hand flying to

her mouth in that theatrical gesture she’s perfected. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean–it’s just, when the teacher called, you

said you weren’t coming. You said you weren’t his mother. I

was so worried about Aeson, so I came instead. Please don’t

misunderstand—I’m not trying to take him from you. I would

never do that.”

The words hang in the air, perfectly designed to wound and to showcase her own saintly concern. The teachers exchange glances. Whispers start immediately.

“So Ms. Volkov is Aeson’s mother? That makes sense–she’s

always the one here.”

“Ms. Perseus didn’t come to the parent–child activities last week. Ms. Volkov came instead. But no matter how busy you are, you should make time for your child.”

“And she actually said she wasn’t his mother. On the phone.

To his teacher. That’s… that’s terrible.”

Aires’s voice cuts through like ice. “Talia. I’ve tolerated your games with me. But this is Aeson.” He holds my gaze, accusation burning in those cold eyes. “I won’t let you use him as a pawn in whatever scheme you’re running.” 4/8

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< Chapter 65

Imema’s eyes fill with tears–on cue, always perfectly on cue.

“Ms. Perseus, I know you don’t like me. I know you don’t want

me near Aeson. But you haven’t been home, and Aires is

busy with work, so I’ve been helping. That’s all. If you’ll come

back, I promise–I’ll stay away. I’ll never see Aeson again. I’ll disappear from your lives completely.”

Her voice breaks beautifully on the last words. A masterpiece

of manipulation.

Aeson’s face contorts with fury. “No! She doesn’t want to

take care of me! She doesn’t want to be my mom!” He points

at me, his small finger trembling with emotion. “If I have to

choose between Ms. Volkov and her, I choose Ms. Volkov!

Every single time!”

The room goes absolutely still.

No one looks at Aeson with judgment. He’s a child, wounded, acting out because his mother has failed him. Their

sympathy flows toward him like a warm tide, protective and

maternal.

Their gazes turn to me–cold, assessing, condemning. A mother whose own son rejects her publicly. A woman who

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< Chapter 65

must have done something unspeakable to deserve this.

The teacher, a woman in her forties with kind eyes that have just turned hard, sighs softly. “When Aeson transferred here,

I always wondered…” She trails off, glancing at me, then at Imema with open approval. Imema handled the enrollment. Imema attended every activity. Imema picked him up,

dropped him off, signed permission slips.

Of course they assumed she was the mother. The real mother

was invisible. Absent. A ghost.

Imema’s eyes gleam with quiet triumph, quickly masked by

more tears.

A small voice breaks through the condemnation.

“Ms. Perseus! You came!”

Robin pushes through the crowd, his small body wiggling

past adults until he reaches me. His face lights up at the sight of me, pure joy cutting through the tension.

My cold expression softens instantly. I crouch to his level,

scanning him for injuries.

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“Robin. Are you okay? What happened?”

His eyes go red, guilty. He stares at the floor, unable to meet my gaze. “Ms. Perseus, I’m sorry.” His voice is small,

ashamed. “I hit Aeson. I know I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I

didn’t mean to make trouble for you.”

He wipes at his eyes with his sleeve, trying to be brave.

The sleeve slides up.

My breath catches in my throat.

Bruises. Old ones, fading to yellow and purple at the edges,

scattered across his small arm like a map of pain. These

aren’t from today. These aren’t from this fight. These are

days old, maybe longer.

“Robin.” My voice sharpens with sudden fear. “What happened to your arm?”

He tries to pull away, to hide it behind his back. “Nothing. It’s

nothing. I just fell.”

I hold him gently but firmly, examining the marks. These

aren’t playground injuries, it’s something deliberate. 7/8

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< Chapter 65

The room behind me fades to static. Aires, Imema, Aeson,

Nick, the teachers—all of them become background noise,

irrelevant.

“Robin.” I keep my voice soft, steady. “Who did this to you?

You can tell me. I won’t let anyone hurt you again.”

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