Cry Harder, Alpha: Your Luna Is The Lycan Queen Now! Chapter 03

Cry Harder, Alpha: Your Luna Is The Lycan Queen Now! Chapter 03

NARA’S POV

The black blood keeps coming, and I cannot stop it. It fills my mouth and spills over the stranger’s arm. The pain in my chest is so loud now that I can barely hear anything else. My ears are ringing. The room is spinning. Royal spirit wolf? What in the goddess’ name does that mean? I’d almost laugh if I wasn’t in so much pain. He must have the wrong woman. Poor delusional man. I am just a dying thing bleeding onto a warm, hard chest that smells so good. Aiden scrambles out of the study. He yanks his shirt up with shaking hands. He is the Alpha of this pack, but in front of the man holding me, he looks small. “King Valerian.” His voice trembles on the name. He bows so fast he nearly trips. “Your Majesty. The border summit is not until tomorrow. We did not expect you this early.” He straightens, and his eyes land on me in Valerian’s arms, and something ugly crawls over his face. “Put her down, Your Majesty, please. She’s filthy. She’s bleeding all over you.” He wipes his own mouth. “Don’t mind her. She’s just my mate. A bitter, jealous hag who fakes a deathbed every time her sister gets a moment of peace. She throws these tantrums for attention.” Then he actually processes how fiercely I am being held. His fear of the Lycan King battles his pathetic pride, and his pride wins. He cannot question a Royal, so he turns his furious glare entirely on me. “Get off of his body this instant and kneel,” he orders, pointing a trembling finger at my chest. “Have you absolutely no shame? Have you been secretly whoring yourself out to the Royals just to spite me?” I would laugh, if I could breathe. He accuses me of cheating with my sister standing right behind him, her shirt still off one shoulder, his marks still red on her throat. Lycan King Valerian does not acknowledge him. He is staring at his own hand, at the black blood pooled in his palm, and his jaw is clenched so tight I can hear his teeth grind. When he finally speaks, his voice is deadly. “You call yourself an Alpha.” He lifts his golden eyes to Aiden. “You hold a territory. And you let your Luna bleed out on the floor of your study while you rut another woman over your desk like a feral dog.” “Your Majesty, I can explain; she is always…” “Is this how you run your pack?” Valerian talks straight over him. “A woman is dying in your house, and not one wolf here has called a healer!” His head turns a fraction toward the door. “I said, bring me a healer. Now! The next one who makes me ask again loses their tongue.” Two guards trip over each other running from the room. Aiden’s throat bobs. “Respectfully, Alpha, you cannot speak to me like this in my own pack. She is my mate. She wears my mark, and I’d treat her however I choose.” “She was never yours,” the Lycan King growls. Valerian shifts me against his chest and reaches into his coat with his free hand. He pulls out a scroll, old and brown at the edges. “Twenty years ago her mother promised her to the Royal Court. It is a childhood betrothal, sealed in blood, witnessed by the old Alphas.” He holds it up, and the elders crowding the doorway go white. “When her mother died, your greedy elders buried the truth. They forced her to marry a worthless nobody just so they could steal her dowry and crown. They dared to break a promise to their king, simply because binding a Spirit Wolf bloodline to trash like you was more profitable.” He looks down at me, and his eyes burn. “She is not your Luna. She is my betrothed. My queen.” My heart skips a beat. He lowers his head until his mouth is close to my ear, and his voice drops so only I can hear it. “I have dreamt of your face for thousands of nights,” he says. “You were the angel in my dreams, which I refused to wake from, yet could never manage to touch. I rode here a day early because my soul was chasing a pull I could not explain. Like finally, I was chasing my true north. And then I found you bleeding out on this floor. I thought my mind had finally gone mad. But here you are, my angel. You are real.” My breath catches, a flutter in my belly. Wait. Has the Lycan King gone mad? “Dear Lycan sir, did you hit your head?” I whisper. “Do Lycans often hallucinate midday? Because reciting epic soulmate poetry to a bleeding woman you just met is clinically insane.” Everyone gasps.