Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 73

Chapter 71

Imema’s POV

I watch Aeson’s face as he stares at Talia and that boy

sharing their milkshake. The jealousy is obvious, perfect fuel for the fire I’ve been carefully stoking.

“That child has a milkshake,” I murmur, just loud enough for

Aeson to hear. “Aeson will feel so left out if he doesn’t get

one too. He’s not any less deserving than that bully. I don’t

understand why Ms. Perseus is so kind to the boy who hurts

him.”

Aeson’s small fists clench at his sides. I see the thought

forming behind his eyes: Yes. Why does she choose him over

me?

I catch the waiter’s attention, smiling sweetly. “We’ll have the

same dishes as that table, please.”

The waiter nods and disappears.

Soon, our table fills with desserts–milkshakes, cakes, ice

cream, the same spread Talia ordered for Robin. Aeson’s eyes widen.

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< Chapter 71

I lean toward him conspiratorially. “I heard this restaurant

is famous for desserts. Ms. Perseus certainly knows what

children like, doesn’t she?”

Aeson’s face darkens. “We’ve been here before. She never

ordered any of this for me. She wouldn’t even let me have

them!”

Aires’s voice is calm, measured. “These are all dairy

products. Your mother was concerned about your health.

That’s all.”

I glance at him sharply. Defending her? That’s new.

I cover quickly, turning back to Aeson. “Sweetheart, you promised me you’d only have a tiny bit, remember? Your

health isn’t strong, so we have to be careful. But you’ll keep

your word, won’t you?”

Aeson pouts but nods reluctantly. “Okay.”

I let him taste each dessert–small sips, tiny bites, just enough

to remind him what he’s missing. Just enough to make him

resent the mother who denied him.

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He eats his regular meal afterward, but I see the thoughts churning behind those young eyes.

He successfully believes that if his mother hadn’t failed to

protect him when she was pregnant, he wouldn’t be sick

today.

Thanks to Diana, Aeson thinks it’s something Talia owes him

for, and now, being nice to him is her duty.

Perfect. That’s exactly what he should think, because that’s

exactly what will drive them further apart.

Aires‘ POV

Halfway through the meal, my phone vibrates. Athena’s name flashes on the screen. I excuse myself, stepping away

from the table where Imema coos over Aeson’s milkshake.

“What’s wrong?”

Athena’s voice is strained, urgent. “Mother dropped her medicine–the bottle shattered. She’s been suffering with headaches for days, Aires. You need to get Talia to send more. Immediately.”

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I say nothing, waiting.

“Mother is an elder,” Athena continues, defensive now.

“What’s wrong with scolding Talia occasionally? Besides,

Talia talked back, made Mother faint. She brought this on

herself.”

I let the silence stretch, then: “Has Mother always treated

Talia like this?”

A pause. Athena coughs, guilt bleeding through her voice.

“You know Mother never liked her. And this time, Talia tried to

control her with medicine–withheld it deliberately. And more

importantly, Aeson is being bullied, and Talia doesn’t care.

She-”

“You didn’t answer my question.” My voice is cold, cutting.

The silence on the other end tells me everything. Athena’s

hesitation, her deflections–they’re habits. Learned

behaviors. The way she stumbled through that explanation suggests she’s witnessed this countless times.

“Well… there were some incidents before,” Athena admits

reluctantly. “But it’s been much better the last two years. If Talia hadn’t courted controversy again, if she hadn’t 4/8

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< Chapter 71

abandoned Aeson, Mother wouldn’t have reacted so harshly.”

Better. She says it’s been better. Which means before, it was

worse. Much worse.

“I’ll handle the medicine,” I say finally. “Don’t worry about it.”

Relief floods Athena’s voice. “Good. Thank you, Aires. I—”

A scream rips through the restaurant. Imema’s voice, high and panicked: “Aires! Come quick! Something’s wrong with

Aeson!”

I’m moving before I consciously decide to, phone forgotten,

Athena’s voice fading behind me.

Aeson’s face is covered in red welts. His skin is flushed,

almost purple, and his breathing comes in rapid, shallow gasps. His small body trembles, eyes rolling back.

I drop to my knees beside him. “Aeson. Aeson!”

No response.

Imema stands frozen, face pale, hands pressed to her mouth.

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“Call an ambulance!” I bark at her. “Now!”

She fumbles for her phone, tears streaming.

Around us, the restaurant has gone quiet. Other diners stare, whispered speculation spreading like fire.

Someone shouts, “That boy’s having an allergic reaction! He

needs treatment immediately–he might not make it until the

ambulance arrives!”

Imema sobs, “Aires, what do we do? What do we do?”

I don’t know. I’ve never seen Aeson like this. I don’t know

what’s wrong, what to do, how to help him. I’m afraid to move

him, afraid to make it worse.

I scan the crowd, voice rising with desperate authority. “Is

there a doctor here? Anyone? I’ll pay one hundred million to

whoever saves my son!”

A hundred million. The crowd gasps. They look at each other,

at me, calculating. My clothes, my bearing–they believe I

can pay.

A man pushes forward, eyes alight with greed. “I can help! 6/8

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I’m a doctor!”

I study him. “You can save my son?”

He hesitates, just for a second, then steels himself. “I’m a

surgeon. I have experience with emergency response.”

He pulls out his license, flashes it. I glance at it—real,

legitimate. I nod, allowing him to approach.

He examines Aeson, then positions himself to begin CPR.

“Stop.”

The voice cuts through the chaos like a blade.

Talia pushes through the crowd, moving with purpose. Her eyes are fixed on Aeson, on our son, and something in her

expression makes the surgeon freeze.

She reaches us in seconds, dropping to her knees beside

Aeson.

“What are you doing?” I demand. “He needs help-”

“Not from him.” Her hands are already moving, checking 7/8

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Aeson’s pulse, his breathing, his pupils. “He’s going into

anaphylactic shock. CPR won’t help—he needs epinephrine,

now. Does anyone here carry an EpiPen?”

The crowd murmurs, shakes heads.

Talia’s jaw tightens. She looks at Aeson, then at me. “I need to

stabilize him until the ambulance arrives. Get out of my way

and let me work.”

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