Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 110: Tell Me Why

Chapter 110: Tell Me Why

TERESA’S P.O.V.

Lucian turned to me, his expression unreadable as always, his unseeing eyes fixed somewhere above my shoulder. "Adrian and Juliette have left," he said casually, as though it wasn’t strange that they’d vanished without a word to us.

I furrowed my brow. "What do you mean they left? Nobody told me anything."

"They didn’t need to," Lucian said smoothly, leaning against the trunk of a tree with an ease that made my insides squirm. "Adrian just told me."

"Told you?" I asked, crossing my arms. "How? I didn’t hear anything."

Lucian smirked, that infuriating, self-assured tilt of his lips. "Of course you didn’t. Your human ears aren’t built for this level of sophistication."

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, please. Spare me the werewolf superiority complex."

He laughed, the sound low and rich, and for a moment, I hated how much it affected me. "You’re adorable when you’re irritated, you know that?"

"Don’t push your luck, Lucian," I warned, though the smile tugging at my lips betrayed me.

Lucian offered me his arm. "Shall we? Adrian mentioned this morning that there’s a lovely clearing not too far from here. He promised me you’ll love it."

I sighed, debating whether or not to argue. He’d already made up his mind, and honestly, I was too tired to fight him tonight. "Fine," I said, slipping my arm through his.

We walked slow and in comfortable silence until we reached the clearing. It was breathtaking, bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights strung across the trees and the silvery light of the moon above. The distant hum of music from the party added a lively undercurrent, though the space around us felt like our own private little world.

I held a small plate in my hand, nibbling on a flaky, buttery samosa I’d snagged from the party earlier. It was delicious, and I wasn’t in the mood to share.

"Can I have a bite?" Lucian asked, his voice dropping into that low, teasing tone he knew made me weak.

I raised a brow at him, though he couldn’t see it. "You have two hands. You should have gotten your own."

He pouted, just like he did earlier this evening, like a sulky child. "Come on, Teresa. Just one bite. Feed me, please."

I snorted. "Absolutely not. Do you know how hard I fought off Juliette to get this?"

He clasped his hands together in a mockery of prayer. "Please? Just one?"

I tried to hold firm, but when he added a dramatic whimper, I lost it, laughing so hard I almost dropped the plate. "You’re ridiculous," I said, shaking my head.

"And yet, here I am," he said smugly, leaning closer.

Rolling my eyes, I picked up a piece of the samosa and held it out to him. "Fine. But if you bite my fingers—"

Before I could finish, his lips closed over the bite, and his grin widened as he chewed. "Delicious," he said, winking. "Almost as sweet as you."

"Stop exaggerating," I muttered, though I couldn’t hide my smile.

He leaned closer, his voice softer now. "I’m not exaggerating, Teresa. Right here, right now—with you—I’m the happiest man alive. I love you."

My laughter died in my throat, and I looked away, the weight of his words settling over me. For a moment, I let myself feel it—the warmth of his presence, the pull of his charm—but then the memories came rushing back. The pain. The betrayal.

I took a deep breath, steeling myself. "Lucian," I began, my voice trembling slightly, "if you love me this much, then why did you hurt me so badly?"

The playful glint in his eyes dimmed, and he reached out blindly, his fingers brushing against mine before taking my hand. "Let’s sit," he said, guiding me toward a fallen log draped with soft moss. Sometimes he moved like his eyes were still intact.

I hesitated, then sat beside him, my heart pounding.

"My father," he began, his voice low and measured, "was one of the greatest Alphas of his time. Strong, feared, respected. But being great meant he had enemies. So many enemies. My mother—his mate—was an Omega."

I frowned, recalling what he’d told me about Omegas before. They were nurturers, the heart of the pack, essential despite their low rank. His mother must have been incredible to capture a great Alpha’s heart.

I was confused, thinking why he was suddenly mentioning his parents but I didn’t interrupt, instead, I listened intently as he continued, his words slow and deliberate. "My mother was weaker than the average Omega. When I was a kid, my mother was often the target of my father’s enemies. My father fought them all to keep her and me safe. At the time, I didn’t think it was a bad thing. It made me see him as a hero—unstoppable and invincible."

His voice softened as he added, "My parents were madly in love. They couldn’t go an hour without being in each other’s arms. To me, their love was perfect."

I smiled faintly, thinking how sweet it was for his parents to have shared such a bond, but I still wasn’t sure where the story was heading.

Lucian’s tone darkened. "When I was twelve, everything changed. It was a normal afternoon. I’d just come home from school and was in the kitchen, telling my mom about my day. She was laughing, listening, as she always did. And then—" He paused, his jaw tightening. "A rogue wolf burst into the house."

I felt my stomach clench as I pictured the scene.

"He was malnourished, barely able to stand, but he was desperate. He charged at us, and my mother... she met him head-on to protect me." His voice cracked ever so slightly.

Lucian’s hands clenched into fists. "Because my mom was weaker than most werewolves, the rogue... he was able to overpower and kill her." He swallowed hard, his blind eyes staring into the void. "He would’ve killed me too, but my father came home in time. He tore the rogue apart as if it were nothing."

I sat frozen, overwhelmed with shock and sadness, but I stayed quiet, letting him continue.

Lucian took a deep breath. "As a werewolf, Losing your mate... it destroys you. Werewolves only get one mate in life. When you lose them, the pain is unbearable. Most don’t survive it. They either die or go insane."

I felt tears sting my eyes as I imagined the agony his father must have endured.

"After that day," Lucian continued, "my father became someone else. He went insane with grief and paranoia. I look like my mother, you see, and..." He hesitated.

"What do you mean?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

His lips twitched into a sad smile. "Two days after my mother died, he locked me in a barred room. He said it was to protect me from his enemies, but really... I think seeing me hurt him too much."

I couldn’t stop the tears that slipped down my cheeks. Lucian, though not seeing me, seemed to sense my sorrow and offered me a faint, comforting smile.

"But it got worse," he said quietly. "Sometimes, in his madness, he would mistake me for her. He would..." Lucian trailed off, his jaw tightening. "He’d make moves—intimate moves—thinking I was her. But thankfully, he always realized halfway through that I wasn’t."

I gasped, horrified. My hands flew to my mouth as my heart ached for him. "Lucian..." I whispered, my voice trembling.

He nodded grimly. "I was locked in that room until I turned eighteen and got my wolf, Ares."

I wanted to ask more about Ares, but I held back, filing it away for later.

"The day I met Ares," Lucian said, his voice distant, "my father came to me. He was drunk, calling me by my mother’s name over and over. He opened the barred door and stepped inside." Lucian’s voice dropped to a whisper. "He tried to force himself on me."

I felt my heart shatter. "Oh my God, Lucian," I breathed, tears streaming down my face.

"My survival instinct took over," he said, his voice devoid of emotion. "Before I knew it, I’d slashed his throat."

I couldn’t hold back anymore. I reached out and hugged him tightly, sobbing into his shoulder. "I’m so sorry," I whispered. "I’m so, so sorry you had to go through that."

Lucian didn’t react for a moment, then he gently patted my back. "Years later," he said softly, "when I found you at that parking lot, and Ares told me you were my mate, I felt nothing but dread."

I pulled back slightly, looking at him through tear-blurred eyes.

"Number one," he continued, "I’d sworn never to fall in love for fear of ending up like my father. And number two..." He hesitated. "You’re human. Weaker than a werewolf. Weaker than my mother."

His voice cracked. "If anything happened to you, I know I’d lose myself, just like he did. I don’t want that, Teresa. I don’t want to become him."

I wanted to say something—anything—but my throat was too tight with emotion.

Lucian sighed. "Ares was persistent, though. He didn’t care about my fears. But..." He shook his head. "That’s a story for another time. I can’t handle any more tonight."

"I understand," I whispered, wrapping my arms around him again. "Thank you for sharing this with me. And please, when you’re ready, talk to me again."

Lucian stiffened slightly, then relaxed, letting me hold him.

I cried quietly against him, whispering apologies for all he had endured. And though he said nothing, the gentle way he rested his hand on my back told me he understood.

There was no doubt Lucian was holding back, but what he’d already shared was enough to crack open a window into his mind—and, God, it left me with a storm of questions.