Alpha's Discarded Luna (Talia) novel Chapter 78

Chapter 76

Talia’s POV

The elevator doors slide open with a mechanical hiss, and

two figures burst into the corridor like avenging furies. Diana

and Athena.

Diana’s eyes sweep the hallway, landing on Aires, then darting to the emergency room doors. “Where’s Aeson? Is he

alright? What happened?”

Aires steps forward, his voice carefully controlled. “He’s in emergency, but he is stable. No life–threatening danger.”

Relief flickers across Diana’s face—then her gaze finds me.

Sitting on the hard plastic chair. Hair disheveled. Clothes

wrinkled from the chaos. Looking exactly like what I am: a

woman who’s been through war.

Her expression hardens into something ugly. She strides toward me, heels clicking against the linoleum like a

countdown.

den’t move. Don’t flinch. Don’t prepare.

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Her hand connects with my cheek.

The slap echoes off the sterile walls–sharp, shocking, brutal.

My head snaps to the side. My skin burns, already swelling. I

taste blood where my teeth cut the inside of my cheek.

“This is how you take care of Aeson?” Her voice is shrill,

venomous. “This is what happens when you’re in charge?”

Robin gasps beside me. “Ms. Perseus!”

Aires catches his mother’s arm. “Mom. Stop.”

Athena rushes over, playing peacemaker. “Mother, calm

down. There must be an explanation—”

I see Imema in my peripheral vision. She’s not rushing to help. She’s watching. Smiling. Enjoying the show.

Diana shakes off Aires’s grip, her fury undiminished. “Explanation? She’s supposed to care for him! She’s

his mother! And now he’s in emergency because of her negligence! Eleanor, if anything happens to my grandson, I’ll make your life a living hell!”

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The words wash over me. I should be angry. I should be hurt.

Instead, I feel something strange–a cold clarity, a sudden

understanding of exactly where I stand in this family.

I look down at my lap. My hair has fallen forward, hiding my face. Through the strands, I see Robin’s small hand reaching

for mine.

“Ms. Perseus…” His voice is worried, frightened for me.

I squeeze his fingers. They’re warm. Alive. Good.

“I’m fine.”

I lift my head. Look at Diana–this woman who has tormented

me for years, who has never accepted me, who just proved

exactly what she thinks of me in front of everyone.

And I smile.

The room goes still. Even Diana freezes, thrown by my

reaction.

I stand. Walk toward Aires. He watches me approach, confusion flickering behind those cold eyes.

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I raise my hand and slap him.

Once. Twice.

The sounds are sharp, satisfying, absolutely deliberate.

Gasps ricochet around the corridor. Athena’s hand flies to

her mouth. Diana’s face cycles through shock, disbelief, and molten fury.

“Eleanor!” Diana’s voice trembles with rage. “You–you dare

to strike my son?”

I meet her eyes without flinching. “Aires is your son. He’s

also my husband. And Aeson’s father.” My voice is calm,

conversational, utterly terrifying in its composure. “Those two slaps were on your behalf.”

Diana shakes, literally shakes with anger. “How dare you!

How dare you!”

“Why wouldn’t I dare?” I tilt my head, studying her like she’s

a specimen. “I did nothing wrong, yet you struck me. Aires took Aeson out today. He allowed this situation to happen. He deserves those slaps far more than I deserved yours.”

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Diana’s fury stutters. She turns to Aires. “You? You took Aeson

out? You caused this?”

Aires’s jaw tightens. Two red marks bloom on his cheeks. His

expression is murderous.

“Mother.” His voice is ice. “This has nothing to do with

Eleanor.”

Diana’s chin lifts, defiant even in the face of her mistake. She won’t apologize. She never apologizes. “A woman’s duty

is to care for her family. Even if this specific incident wasn’t

her fault, as Aeson’s mother, she bears responsibility for his

wellbeing!”

My eyes narrow. “I accept responsibility for my actions. But should I also answer for his father’s failures? For your son’s

choices?” I pause, letting the words land. “You speak of

women’s duties while standing there as a woman yourself.

The irony seems lost on you.”

Diana’s hand twitches. She wants to strike me again.

I smile, cold and sharp. “Try it. One more slap, and I’ll call

the police. Assault is assault, even when the victim is your

daughter–in–law.”

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She laughs, bitter and disbelieving. “The police? You struck

Aires! You’d be arrested too!”

“Incorrect.” I shake my head slowly. “Aires is my husband.

Domestic disputes are complicated. The police rarely

intervene in marital matters.” I pause. “But you? You’re my husband’s mother. You have no legal standing to strike me. If

you do it again, I will press charges.”

Diana’s lips part, but no words come.

“Moreover.” I step closer, holding her gaze. “You slapped me.

I slapped your son in return. That seems fair to me–you hurt

me, he absorbs your punishment. But if you touch me again,

I’ll return the favor directly. To you.”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Test me.”

The silence stretches, electric and absolute. Diana’s eyes

search mine, looking for weakness, for the cowering woman

she’s always known.

She doesn’t find her.

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Aires’s voice cuts through, low and dangerous. “Eleanor. That’s enough.”

I turn to him, letting him see the full weight of my contempt.

“You’re the last person who has any right to say that to me.”

Imema can’t help herself. She never can. “Ms. Perseus, Mrs.

Perseus is an elder. How can you speak to her like that?”

I glance at her, dismissive as lint. “You’re so concerned. Why don’t you slap yourself a few times and show us how it’s

done?”

She shrinks back, silent.

The emergency room doors swing open. A doctor emerges,

weary but calm.

“Family of Aeson Perseus?”

Diana rushes forward, all maternal concern now. “I’m his

grandmother. How is he? Is he alright?”

The doctor’s expression is professionally neutral, but his eyes.

carry reproach. “He’s stable. We pumped his stomach. He’s

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out of danger.” He pauses. “But I must emphasize–this child has a severely compromised constitution. Multiple allergies, lactose intolerance, general weakness. He

cannot eat randomly. He needs careful, consistent dietary

management.”

His gaze sweeps over us–Diana, Aires, Imema, me.

“Surely you all know about his nut allergy?”

Diana’s eyes cut to me, accusatory. But after our

confrontation, she holds her tongue.

The doctor continues. “External food is risky for him.

Home–prepared meals are safest. Please be more vigilant going forward.”

He walks away, leaving his warning hanging in the sterile air.

Diana says nothing. For once.

I turn away from them all, returning to Robin’s side. His small hand finds mine again, squeezing.

“Ms. Perseus,” he whispers, “you were so brave.”

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I look at this child–this extraordinary, perceptive, loyal child

-and feel something shift in my chest.

“Bravery is easy,” I murmur, “when you’ve stopped caring

what they think.