The Alpha's Stolen Luna Chapter 3: The Promise

Kaya

I nearly stumble as I dash out of the dining hall, my legs struggling to keep up with my frantic pace. My breath cos in uneven bursts as I head straight for the stairwell—not toward the kitchen, nor my quarters to change.

Camilla’s order was never truly about sending to work. That was just a façade, a thinly veiled power play designed to remind everyone that she could do as she pleased.

Her real goal? To exclude .

If she, the Luna of the pack, could not attend such an important event, then neither could I. Not even Damien’s favorite.

I barely register my ascent, my feet carrying automatically to the fourth floor—Damien’s domain. Only a select few are allowed up here, and I am one of them. But only when Camilla isn’t watching.

Panting softly, I press myself against the heavy door to his study, my legs still trembling from anxiety and exertion.

I am used to running—running from others, running from everything—but it never gets easier.

With a shaking hand, I grasp the doorknob and turn it clockwise three tis. A quiet click echoes in the stillness as the lock disengages. The mont I step inside, I am enveloped in his scent—clean, fresh, minty.

Damien’s scent brings the deepest sense of comfort, wrapping around like an invisible shield. When fear claws at my chest, when my thoughts spiral into panic, my body instinctively craves it.

Damien once told that this is exactly what mates feel.

I believe him.

I decide to stay in his office until the celebration ends. Usually, when Camilla requests to speak with her husband, she brings him to her own office—perhaps because, even now, she does not fully trust him.

And I have to admit, I almost understand why.

Camilla beca Damien’s wife only a few years ago, after her father, Alpha Theon of the Cold Wind Pack, struck a deal with Damien. Their marriage was a union of power, a pact that rged their packs under one rule. The arrangent forced Camilla to leave her ho, her birthright, and take up the role of Luna in unfamiliar territory.

Naturally, it was not a smooth transition. While the rest of the Cold Wind Pack eventually bent to their new Alpha, Camilla remained defiant. She was too ambitious, too proud to simply hand over control.

She is an alpha by blood, a wolf bred for dominance. Yet Damien forces her to submit, his presence an unyielding force she cannot overpower.

And sotis, I wonder if that is why she despises .

Not because Damien desires .

But because I submit to him willingly. Because I trust him so completely that I never question his word.

And it’s the truth. Damien is the only werewolf who has ever loved . The only one who has never tried to hurt , never sought to break . He keeps safe, and I don’t care if that makes soone hate .

I am so lost in my thoughts that I fail to notice I am no longer alone.

The sa two sets of footsteps that trailed out of the dining hall are approaching the door. The sound sends a chill racing down my spine, and suddenly, I can hear nothing but the frantic pounding of my own heartbeat.

Why are they coming here?

The stairwell leading to Camilla’s quarters is on the opposite side of the mansion, which ans they are heading straight for Damien’s study.

I swallow hard, panic tightening in my chest, and nearly dive into the small closet beside the door. It isn’t just a closet—it’s a hidden passageway, one Damien had built specifically for . Narrow corridors snake through the walls of the pack house, allowing to slip unnoticed into any of his rooms. He made these arrangents for alone, and I’ve always found comfort in that. The ability to move unseen in this house, where eyes are always watching, makes feel safer.

Pressing myself into the darkness, I silently thank the Moon Goddess that I used the scent suppressor Damien gave . Without it, my presence would be impossible to hide.

The suppressant is nothing more than a concentrated mix of Damien’s own pheromones, masking my scent by making sll like him. It’s expensive to produce, so I use it sparingly—but tonight, I had been careful. I didn’t want to be approached like the other female ogas, and now, more than ever, I pray that it’s still working.

Hopefully, Camilla won’t notice that I’m here.

The door creaks open, and Damien’s voice cuts through the air, tinged with surprise.

"I thought we’d be having this conversation in your office, Camilla."

Their footsteps move across the room, stopping near Damien’s desk. The soft click of the liquor cabinet follows, the faint clink of glass breaking the silence. But only one glass is set down.

A silent warning.

He’s telling her to make this quick.

"Why didn’t you tell about the deal?" Camilla’s voice cracks with anger, but beneath the sharp edge, there’s a barely perceptible tremor of frustration as she struggles to regain control. "It’s one thing to keep away from your sordid parties, but to exclude from sothing so politically important? You’ve crossed the line, Damien."

"Those are so strong words, Camilla. How long have you been waiting to use ’sordid’ in a conversation?"

Damien chuckles, but as the silence drags on, I hear him sigh before setting the glass back on the desk. "The deal is done, and I don’t intend to discuss it further. It’s my pack’s business, and I’m the one making the decisions here."

"Your—? What did you agree on?" Camilla presses, and the irritation in her voice tightens again. Another sigh escapes Damien, heavier this ti.

"The alliance. Our lands have beco too uncertain lately, and I want to ensure we’re prepared for whatever cos next. I don’t like what’s happening in the Lycan Kingdom, and I sure as hell don’t trust the king."

I gasp, my breath catching in my throat. I quickly cover my mouth with both hands, praying I wasn’t heard.

Damien rarely discusses politics with unless I ask. I’ve always been ignorant of the finer details, but hearing him speak so openly about the Lycan King makes my stomach churn. It’s a dangerous confession—one that unsettles deeply. I’m certain Camilla isn’t happy to hear it either.

"What did you promise Alpha Arcanis?" Camilla demands, her voice low and accusing. My heart plumts.

"He doesn’t like to share his power, nor does he enjoy challenging those stronger than him. He must have asked for sothing in return—what was it?"

The silence stretches, thick and suffocating, as my anxiety climbs higher with each passing second. Why is Damien hesitating? What could it be? Sothing significant, sothing tied to our pack? Perhaps sothing that once belonged to Camilla’s family?

My pulse pounds in my ears, but finally, Damien’s voice breaks the heavy quiet.

"Kaya. He only asked for Kaya. And I will give her to him."