The Alpha's Mafia Luna novel Chapter 62

Chapter 62

By the time we stepped out of the shower, the steam had filled the

entire bathroom. My skin still tingled, not just from the heat of the

water but from the way Damian had touched me–like I was

something rare. Sacred.

He handed me one of his oversized polo shirts–navy blue, soft and

worn, smelling exactly like him. I slipped into it, letting the hem fall

just above my knees, and couldn’t help but glance in the mirror. My legs looked longer under it, my neck dotted with faint love bites. I

looked like someone who belonged to someone–and I did. To him.

He stood behind me, bare–chested and towel wrapped around his

hips, watching me in the mirror with a look that made my knees

wobble again.

“You sure you can walk now?” he teased.

“Barely,” I muttered, cheeks heating.

“Good.”

He leaned forward and kissed my cheek before heading to get dressed.

I followed a minute later, hair damp, face clean, body still humming

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from everything we’d just done. But now I was starving.

When we made it downstairs to the dining room, Mira was already

sitting at the table with a large bowl of pasta in front of her. She

glanced up, eyes narrowing slightly when she saw what I was wearing.

“Really?” she said, stabbing her fork into the pasta. “You just had to

wear his shirt?”

I grinned and tugged the hem. “It’s comfortable.”

“It’s code for ‘we definitely just did something in the shower,“” she

muttered, dramatically rolling her eyes. “I don’t even know why I

bother making dinner with you two around.”

“You didn’t make dinner,” I said as I slid into the chair beside her. “I

did.”

She dropped her fork and pointed at me. “Oh no, we’re not about to

lie at the table of truth. You cooked, yes. I was there. And I

specifically said what were my exact words?” She raised her voice

and made air quotes. “Don’t touch the stove.”

Damian walked in, now dressed in a fitted dark tee and sweatpants,

hair damp, looking criminally good for a man who just destroyed my

ability to walk properly.

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“She almost burned down the house,” Mira announced to him.

“She’s exaggerating,” I said quickly.

“She literally put a wooden spoon in the oven, Damian!”

“Okay, that was one time-”

“She tried to cook pasta in a frying pan!”

“Stop telling my secrets!” I laughed, reaching across to toss a piece of

bread at her. She caught it and took a bite like a smug raccoon.

Damian sat across from me, grinning like he was watching a sitcom.

“I missed this,” he said. “You two roasting each other over food.”

“Oh, we’re just getting started,” Mira said with a wink. “But let me

tell

you the real tea.” She leaned in, eyes gleaming. “I met someone.”

I raised a brow. “Oh?”

Damian cocked his head. “Poor guy.”

Mira rolled her eyes and shoved him playfully. “Shut up, you jealous man. Anyway, his name’s Luca. He’s tall–like, basketball tall–and he works at the security tech firm downtown. Super smart. Has this

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Chapter 62

quiet, brooding thing going on. Very anti–you,” she pointed at

Damian.

“Sounds boring,” Damian replied.

“He sounds hot,” I said, smiling. “So when’s the date?”

“We’re still just texting,” Mira said with a dramatic sigh. “He’s kind of

awkward, but like, charmingly awkward, you know?”

“You love the awkward ones,” I said, laughing.

“Because they don’t ghost me after two weeks!” she fired back.

Just then, her phone buzzed loudly on the table.

She glanced at the screen and squealed. “It’s him!”

We both leaned toward her as she grabbed it.

“I have to take this upstairs,” she said, bolting up with her plate half-

finished. “If you hear me giggling, mind your business!”

And just like that, she disappeared up the stairs like her ass was on

fire.

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Damian chuckled, shaking his head. “I like her. She’s chaos.”

“She’s my chaos,” I said, smiling after her. “But now she ditched us to

flirt, so it’s just you and me.”

He tilted his head, eyes softening. “Just how I like it.”

After we finished eating–slowly, chatting between bites–I started

gathering the plates, but Damian reached for them too.

“Let’s do this together,” he said. “Domestic vibes.”

I smirked. “Look at us. A couple who showers and scrubs dishes

together.”

He bumped my hip with his. “We make a good team.”

The kitchen lights cast a warm glow as we washed dishes, passing

utensils back and forth, soapy water splashing now and then. My

hands were wet and pruny, but I couldn’t stop smiling. There was

something deeply intimate about this–doing the ordinary, the

mundane, together.

“You’ve been quiet since Ivy left,” Damian said softly as he passed me

a plate to dry.

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I sighed. “I’ve been thinking.”

“About the mark?”

I nodded. “She said it’s tied to the royal bloodline. A Queen’s mark,

not just a magical scar. And that there haven’t been any royal–born wolves in over a century. I don’t know what that means for me. Am I…

a reincarnation? A descendant? A mistake?”

He turned off the faucet and dried his hands before turning to face

1. me. “You’re not a mistake.”

I swallowed hard, voice low. “I just don’t know what I’m supposed to

do with it.”

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