My Dead Hunter Husband Is the Supreme Alpha Chapter 02

My Dead Hunter Husband Is the Supreme Alpha Chapter 02

After he left, the Omega attending me sighed, her voice a soft murmur:

“Luna, the dead are gone. You must move forward. The Alpha is trying to make amends—why push him away?”

I stayed silent.

I knew Sebastian had always looked down on me.

He despised me for my mixed blood, for wedding a hunter.

Every time it was mentioned, his lip curled like he’d tasted spoiled meat.

But he didn’t know those six months with Domi in that tiny settlement were the only happy ones I’d ever known.

After lunch, my sister sent a Beta with a summons.

She claimed she missed me and demanded I attend her at the Supreme Alpha’s den.

In the Supreme Den, she reclined in a carved rocking chair, sipping mulberry wine.

On her table, again, four platters of Moon-Tear Berries—untouched, gleaming like silver coins.

I closed my eyes, then dipped my head in a shallow bow.

After a long pause, she set down her cup and let out a soft, silken chuckle:

“Sebastian came by yesterday. Traded three military honours for a single Moon-Tear Berry. Did you enjoy it?”

I kept my eyes on the floor, voice flat:

“Luna, that wasn’t for me. It was his tithe to the pack.”

Seraphina paused, a flicker of amusement crossing her painted lips. “Is that so? I had assumed…”

She spoke at length.

Of childhood memories with Sebastian—how he’d tracked the finest elk for her, plucked the rarest blooms.

Of his battlefield glories, the territories he’d bled for.

Finally, she straightened, looking down her nose at me:

“Elena, if it weren’t for me, you would never have been fit to be his Luna.”

She wasn’t wrong.

My mother was mortal.

If not for that twist of fate, the pack would never have bothered to reclaim me.

But had I ever wantedto be reclaimed?

I left the Sanctuary and nearly collided with Sebastian, who was striding toward the inner court, his face tight with urgency.

His eyes lit when he saw me—then his grip closed on my arm, voice sharp as a blade:

“Who authorised you to come here?!”

“Did you cross paths with anyone?!”

He interrogated me like a prisoner, his eyes feral, dangerous.

I winced, trying to twist free. “Let go of me!”

He faltered, as if realising he’d overstepped.

His expression flickered, and he released me, turning his face away, voice cold and rigid:

“From now on, you’re not to set foot here without my permission.”

“Why not?!”

He whipped back around, face darkening, sneering:

“You’re a half-breed. What right do you have to sully a place meant for high-born wolves?!”

I shoved him hard, my palms stinging. “Take that up with the Supreme Luna, who summonedme here!”

First, his beloved had put me in my place, and now he was treating me like a trespasser.

What had I ever done to deserve this?

I dragged in a breath, forcing back the sting behind my eyes.

He froze, something complicated flashing in his gaze.

He opened his mouth, as if to speak, then pressed his lips shut and said nothing.

The next few days, Sebastian seemed a different wolf.

Whether from guilt or some other impulse, I couldn’t tell.

He stopped snapping, and whenever he had a spare hour, he’d linger in my den.

Sometimes we played chess, sometimes we shared meals.

He’d even awkwardly press fine dresses into my hands, as if the silk could erase his earlier cruelty.

The only thing that still set him alight was mentioning my late husband.

He hadn’t always been so volatile about it.

When we were on tolerable terms, we’d drink together and speak of the ones we mourned.

I’d complain of his coldness, and he’d laugh and say I wasn’t the one he wanted.

Later, he’d sneer with contempt, at most a cold scoff: “A lowly mortal hunter—worth pining over every single dawn?”

Not like now, where the mere word darkened his face like a storm cloud.

This time, when he entered, I was polishing the dagger Domi had gifted me.

I turned to find Sebastian standing in the shadows, his face thunderous, watching me for gods knew how long.

I frowned.

He was silent for a heartbeat, then suddenly asked:

“He was that good to you? Good enough you’re still tangled up in his ghost?”

I nodded.

He strode forward and seized my wrist:

“What if I told you I could treat you better?”