My Alpha Wants Two Lunas? I'M Done (Laila and Holt) novel Chapter 142

09:40 Fri, Apr 24 M

Chapter 142 Heartache

Chapter 142 Heartache

Laila’s POV:

He shook his head slightly and turned his attention to the venison.

He handled his knife and fork with quiet precision, the blade following the grain of the meat, nothing like the blood–soaked wolf king who crushed enemies‘ throats on the battlefield,

Of course. Back at the Royal Court, everyone puts on a performance.

“Mom didn’t do those things.” He paused, then coughed again.

This time, it was clearly from the spice.

He picked up his glass and drained it in one go, but the coughing only got worse, a flush creeping across his cheeks.

He obviously couldn’t handle spice.

Why force it?

I slid the milder braised dishes closer to his side.

“These are lighter. They’re good, too.”

“Thank you…” He cleared his throat, brow pinched–the burn was clearly still raging in his mouth.

I got up, pushed open the door, and asked the Omega server in the corridor for a cup of cold sheep’s milk.

“Milk helps with the heat.” I nudged the cup to his hand and smiled–like coaxing a pup who’d gotten into something too spicy. “Drink this. You’ll feel better.”

He took the cup and drank it down, sip by sip, eyes lowered.

But I caught it–a flash of something close to heartache flickering through his gaze.

“What’s wrong? Not happy?” I asked without thinking.

He was quiet for a beat.

Then, he looked at me.

“Just now, watching you coax me into drinking milk,” his voice dropped low, “I kept thinking–during that year at Ironclaw Pack, did you do the same thing? Patiently waiting on that old hag while she took her

medicine?

“You treated that place like home. You treated them like family.

“And every single one of them betrayed you.

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09:40 Fri, Apr 24

M

Chapter 142 Heartache

“In my heart…”

He didn’t finish.

His knife and fork settled against the rim of the white porcelain plate with a faint, quiet clink.

“…I’m angry.”

“And Maris.” His jawline tensed for an instant. “The punishment she received was far too light.

“Even those military lashes–Holt took them for her.”

49 Free Cour

I hadn’t expected a sip of sheep’s milk to send his thoughts all the way to my days at Ironclaw Pack.

But he was right.

I really had treated Ironclaw Pack like my own den.

I really had wanted to spend my life with Holt.

But…

Maris was a different story.

“She will pay the proper price sooner or later,” I said.

“At the very least, every full–moon night, she has to endure pain no ordinary wolf can withstand. Once, twice, three times–maybe she can grit through that.

“But five? Seven? Eight?

“She’ll go mad.

“And even if she doesn’t, she’ll start dreading full–moon nights–the night every werewolf looks forward to most.”

I remembered how fiercely proud Maris had once been of her wolf blood.

She never tucked away her fluffy ears, and her tail always hung openly past the hem of her skirt, swaying gently with each step.

She’d wanted to climb higher and higher–to become the glory of Rydar Kingdom.

None of that had anything to do with her anymore.

Even if she lived, the next five years would hollow her out–one brutal full–moon night at a time.

“Exactly.”

Samuel nodded. “If she survives the five years, I’ll personally drag her in front of you.”

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