The Scorned Luna-Chapter 83: Fighting Over Her

The guard led Sofia to a small cottage far from the main mansion. It was a lovely house, but to Sofia, it felt like just another cage with prettier walls.

​Sofia walked inside and dropped her bag on the floor. Her body felt heavy. Her thick thighs ached from the long day, and her mind was tired of fighting. She didn’t explore the house. She didn’t look at the food in the kitchen. She simply crawled into the bed and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

​Hours later, a sharp knock at the door startled her awake.

​Sofia sat up, her heart racing. The sun wasn’t up yet, and the house was dark. She stayed quiet, wondering if it was Damien coming to beg for forgiveness again.

​The knock came again, steady and firm.

​She stood up and walked to the door. She peeked through the small window and gasped. It wasn’t Damien; it was Alaric.

​Sofia quickly unlocked the door and pulled it open. Alaric stepped inside, filling the small room with his powerful scent of dark spice. He looked around the cottage, his jaw tight with anger.

​"He used his Alpha command on you," Alaric said, his voice a low growl. "I felt the energy shift in the air from miles away."

​Sofia looked at him, confused and a bit relieved. "How did you find me?"

​Alaric moved closer, his hand reaching out to touch her flushed cheek gently. He looked down at her with a soft, dark smile.

​"I am a King, Sofia," he murmured. "I have my ways. There is very little that happens in these lands that I do not know about."

​Sofia swallowed hard and sat on the couch while Alaric kept moving, staring around before his eyes landed on her.

​"What’s next?" he asked curiously. He was so worried for her; he wanted her to be comfortable.

​Sofia sighed. "I’ll look for a job," she whispered, her voice tired. "I need to earn my own way."

​Alaric’s lips quirked into a shadow of a smile. "I own a textile factory not far from the border of this pack. I can give you a position there. You’ll be safe, you’ll be paid, and you’ll be under my protection."

​Sofia looked up at him, her heart fluttering. "Thank you, Alaric. Truly."

​He reached down, his large, warm hand cupping her chubby, flushed cheek. The air between them suddenly turned electric. Sofia’s breath hitched. She knew this was dangerous; she was still bonded to the man who lived in the mansion on the hill.

​"We shouldn’t be doing this," she breathed, even as she leaned into his palm.

​"I know," Alaric rasped, his voice husky.

​But Sofia didn’t pull away. Instead, she stood up, her body brushing against his hard chest. She reached up, grabbed his collar, and pulled him down into a deep, desperate kiss.

​Alaric let out a low, guttural groan. He didn’t hesitate. His hands slid down her back, gripping her thick, soft ass with possessive force as he lifted her and pressed her back into the cushions of the couch. He moved like a man starved, his mouth traveling down her neck, leaving a trail of fire.

​He dropped to his knees between her heavy, spreading thighs. Sofia arched her back, a soft moan escaping her lips as Alaric’s tongue found her. He was relentless, tasting her deeply, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of her hips. His own thick, hard cock was straining against his trousers, pulsing with the need to sink inside her, but he held back. He wanted her to beg for it. He wanted her to choose him completely.

​Suddenly, miles away in the Alpha’s mansion, Damien bolted upright in his bed.

​His chest felt like it was on fire. Through the mate bond, a wave of heat and betrayal slammed into him. His wolf let out a deafening, murderous howl inside his mind.

​Someone is touching her! Someone is marking what is MINE!

​Damien didn’t even put on shoes. He ran out of the mansion, his eyes glowing. He jumped into his car, the tires screaming as he raced toward the north cottage.

​Back at the cottage, Alaric had just lifted his head, his lips wet and his eyes dark with lust, when the front door was literally ripped off its hinges.

​The wood splintered with a thunderous crash.

​Damien stood in the doorway, his chest heaving, his face contorted in a mask of pure, animalistic rage. He saw Sofia on the couch, her clothes disheveled and her skin flushed, and he saw his uncle kneeling between her legs.

​"GET AWAY FROM HER!" Damien roared, the sound shaking the very foundations of the house.

​Before the two men could collide, Sofia scrambled off the couch. Her hair was messy and her lips were swollen from Alaric’s kisses, but she didn’t hide. She stepped directly between them, her body a shield in front of Alaric.

​"Get out, Damien!" she shouted, her voice cutting through his murderous growls.

​Damien stopped, his claws digging into the doorframe. He looked at her with a mix of agony and fury. "Sofia, move. He’s taking advantage of you. He’s touching what belongs to me!"

​"I belong to no one!" Sofia snapped back. She stood taller, her chest heaving.

​"We are mates, Sofia!" Damien’s voice broke, sounding more like a wounded animal than a leader. "The bond... I felt what he was doing to you. It nearly killed me."

​"Then let it kill you," Sofia said coldly. The words hit Damien like a physical blow. He staggered back a step. "I told you: I do not accept this bond. I don’t care if the Moon Goddess wrote our names in the stars. I don’t want this bond."

​Alaric stood up slowly behind her. He didn’t shift. He didn’t even raise his fists. He simply wiped a stray drop of moisture from his lip—a deliberate, mocking move that made Damien’s vision go red. Alaric placed a large, possessive hand on Sofia’s shoulder, claiming her right in front of her mate.

​"She told you to leave, nephew," Alaric said. "A true man listens to a woman when she says ’no’."

​"You stay out of this!" Damien roared at his uncle. He turned his desperate gaze back to Sofia. "Sofia, please. He’s using you to get to me. He’s twice your age, he’s a King who cares about power—"

​"He’s the only one who saw me as a human being!" Sofia interrupted. She pointed toward the shattered door. "Go home, Damien. Go back to your mansion and your memories of Lola. You have no right to be here. You have no right to my body, and you have no right to my life."

​Damien looked at the hand Alaric had on her shoulder, then at Sofia’s determined, angry face. The bond was screaming at him to claim her, to fight for her, but the look in her eyes was one of pure disgust.

​"Sofia..."

​"Damien... please leave..."

​Damien stood there for a long time, his heart breaking into a million pieces. The bond was screaming, but Sofia’s words were louder. He looked at the floor, turned around, and walked out into the night without saying another word. He looked like a ghost.

​Sofia turned to Alaric. He saw the look in her eyes and already knew what she was going to say. He reached out, his thumb grazing her jaw one last time.

​"I know," Alaric said softly. "I’m leaving too. You need to breathe." He stepped toward the broken door and looked back. "I’ll see you at the factory tomorrow morning. A car will come for you at eight."

​With a final nod, Alaric disappeared into the darkness.

​Sofia sank back onto the couch, her head in her hands. The room still smelled like Alaric’s spice and Damien’s rage.

​"He is in pain, Sofia," her wolf, Nyx, whispered in her mind. "The bond is bleeding. Damien is suffering."

​Sofia gripped the cushions. "I don’t care," she told the empty room. "He let me suffer for weeks. Let him feel a fraction of it."

​She spent the rest of the night in a light sleep, her body still humming from Alaric’s touch but her heart heavy with the chaos.

​The next morning, Sofia woke up and tried to wash the stress off her face. She put on the simplest dress she had and tied her hair back. She was determined to start her new life.

​A sudden, sharp knock landed on her door.

​"Alaric is early," she muttered, checking her small watch. It was only seven.

​She opened the door, a small smile starting to form, but it froze instantly. Her blood ran cold.

​Standing on her porch wasn’t Alaric. It was a man with cold, sharp eyes and a powerful presence that made the air feel thin. He looked like a polished, more dangerous version of the men she knew.

​It was Alpha Lucas, the leader of the Midnight Pack. Sofia knew him because he was famous.

​"Sofia Stephen," Lucas said, his voice like sliding silk. He didn’t wait for an invite; he stepped into the small cottage, his eyes scanning her curvy frame with a dark, hungry interest.

​"Wh-what are you doing here?" Sofia stammered, backing away.

​"I heard there was a girl who rejected an Alpha’s bond and had a King fighting over her," Lucas murmured, a cruel smirk touching his lips. "I wanted to see if you were worth the trouble. And now that I see you... I think I’ll take you for myself."

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