My Luna Became An Alpha After I Rejected Her novel Chapter 194

Chapter 194

Beta Greg and Gloria stood outside, unmoving, the night breeze brushing against their tired faces. The house loomed before them…large, quiet, too close to the pack house for comfort. Greg gut twisted. Every instinct screamed not to set foot on this ground.

He couldn’t believe Damien had brought them here-into the same estate where he lived. The same air that Alpha Alaric Miller breathed. The same man who had torn his life apart, ripped his family into pieces, and left scars that never healed.

Greg’s jaw tensed. His fist tightened at his side until his nails bit into his palm. But then his gaze drifted to the little boy in Damien’s arms. Arthur. His grandson. The child’s soft curls brushed against Damien’s shoulder as he slept, his small hand clutching Damien’s shirt for warmth. The sight punched a hole straight through Greg’s anger.

Gloria looked pale and drained beside him, her shoulders drooping, her steps unsteady. She needed rest. The child needed warmth. And for their sake, Greg swallowed down his hatred.

“Come on,” he said gruffly. “Let’s go.”

Gloria nodded wordlessly, and together, they followed Damien into the house.

“I’ll show you to your rooms upstairs,” Damien said quietly, his voice low so as not to wake the boy in his arms. They climbed the stairs slowly, the air thick with exhaustion and unspoken tension.

He showed Gloria her room first, then Greg’s, before carrying Arthur into the small bedroom across the hall. Damien laid the boy gently on the bed, tucked the blanket up to his chin, and brushed a hand through his hair.

“Sleep well, kid,” he murmured.

He stepped back, staring at the peaceful rise and fall of Arthur’s chest. But his mind wasn’t still. He pulled out his phone for what felt like the hundredth time that night and dialed Cassia’s number again. Still nothing. No answer. Not even a ring.

His throat tightened. Where are you, Cassia?

He turned off the light and stepped out quietly, heading downstairs. The wooden steps creaked beneath his weight, echoing softly in the empty house.

When he reached the living room, he froze.

Beta Greg sat on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring into space. The faint light from a nearby lamp carved deep shadows across his weary face. His eyes looked distant…haunted.

“Beta Greg…” Damien called softly.

Greg blinked, as though surfacing from a storm. He turned his head toward Damien, forcing a small smile that never reached his eyes. “You’re still awake. I thought you’d gone to sleep.”

“I can’t sleep,” Damien admitted.

Greg gave a low, hollow chuckle. “Yeah. Me neither.”

Damien sank into the couch across from him, elbows resting on his knees. Silence stretched between them…thick and, heavy.

“I miss my wife,” Greg said suddenly, his voice breaking the quie The words were fragile, almost trembling. “I wish she were

here.”

Damien’s chest ached at the pain in his voice. “I’m sorry for you loss, Beta Greg,” he said softly.

“All the people she’s loved have hurt her. Even me. Even her mother.” His voice trembled. “She was neglected from birth. Forgotten by her mother. And when she needed me most, I failed her again.”

He looked up at Damien, tears welling in his eyes. “Don’t hurt her too. Please.”

Damien’s throat tightened. “I would never,” he said, voice raw. “I love Amelia more than my own life. I’ll protect her. Always”

Greg studied him one last time, then nodded slowly. “Good.”

He rose to his feet, resting a hand briefly on Damien’s shoulder silent gesture of trust, or perhaps a plea. “You should rest,” he said quietly.

Damien nodded, offering a small smile. “Goodnight, Beta Greg

Greg gave a faint nod in return and walked away, his footsteps fling up the stairs.

When the silence settled again, Damien slumped back onto the couch, his mind spinning. Greg’s words echoed in his head. Neglected from birth. Forgotten by her mother?! What had he ant?

He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, the unease in his che growing heavier. He tried Amelia’s number again, but the

call failed once more.

The screen dimmed. The house was still. And the only sound with the steady thud of his worried heartbeat in the dark.