Beneath the Alpha's Moon
Chapter 34: Survival mode

Chapter 34: Survival mode

TERESA’S P.O.V.

I felt a strange sense of cold settle over me as I stood there, watching my father step out of his car. The quiet anger in his eyes—it was like staring down a gathering storm. And yet, I felt small, vulnerable. Luke was right beside me, his hand steady on my arm, but it still didn’t stop the cold shiver that ran through me when my father called my name.

"Teresa," he said softly, almost too softly, that calmness so chillingly familiar. My stomach twisted.

Before I could even find the words, he sent a mere glance at Luke and then completely fixied his steely gaze on me. "Why did you block my number, Teresa?"

I swallowed, trying to hold my composure. "I didn’t," I replied as steadily as I could, but my voice shook slightly. "I haven’t blocked your number, Dad."

"Oh, really?" His lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Then what did you say to Lucian that made him cancel the deal we made?"

"I didn’t say anything," I protested, feeling my cheeks flush. "Lucian already knew I wasn’t Jennifer." I caught my breath, remembering that look in Lucian’s eyes when he’d first seen me, a look like he’d seen right through every lie, every pretense. "We...we’ve met before, Dad. He knew who I was right from the start."

A flash of rage crossed my father’s face, something dark and unsettling. He took a step toward me, his expression hardened with fury. "You think someone like Lucian Blackwood would know you?You of all people? If it weren’t for me, Teresa, you’d be nothing. Someone like him has class, levels you wouldn’t even understand. Don’t pretend you’re important enough to know him on your own. You’re such a liar. You’re exactly like your mother. Cheap, conniving and manipulative!"

I opened my mouth, but the words died in my throat. I couldn’t believe he said that about mom. I wanted to tell him he was wrong, that Lucian and I really met before, a couple of times actually But before I could even muster the courage, his hand shot out, and a sharp, searing pain exploded across my cheek.

The world tilted for a second, and everything felt surreal. I staggered back, too stunned to react, feeling the sting burn into my skin. My vision blurred for a moment, and I couldn’t quite believe it had happened. I could still feel the echo of his heavy ringed hand on my face.

Then Luke’s voice cut through the haze like a lightning bolt, raw and enraged. "How dare you," he growled, and before I even understood what was happening, Luke’s fist connected with our father’s jaw in a resounding punch.

Our father staggered back, clutching his jaw in shock and outrage. His face contorted, and he turned his glare onto Luke, but Luke stood his ground, breathing heavily, fists clenched. "You don’t get to treat her like that!" Luke spat. "Or talk about Mom like that. Keep her name out of your filthy mouth!"

Our father’s face twisted with fury. "You think you can challenge me, boy? It seem you’ve forgotten who you’re dealing with. You’ll regret this."

But Luke didn’t flinch. "If you so much as look at Teresa or come near us again, I swear I’ll make sure the press knows what you’ve done. Don’t even think about testing me."

A flicker of something—fear, maybe—crossed our father’s eyes. He tried to brush it off with a scoff, but there was an edge to it. "What are you going to do? You have nothing on me, Luke."

"Try me." Luke’s voice was low, dangerous. And just like that, he grabbed my cardboard box from the ground, took my hand, steady and protective, and pulled me away from our father, who was still standing there, too stunned to respond as we disappeared into the apartment building.

The moment we were safely inside, Luke’s calm shattered. He was pacing, running his hands through his curly hair, muttering every curse he knew. The anger rolled off him in waves, his shoulders tense, jaw set, his usually steady hands trembling with fury.

I watched him, feeling my own heart race, a strange, pulsing ache in my cheek. After a moment, I mustered the courage to ask, "What did you mean...when you said you’d go to the press?"

Luke paused, glancing over at me with a frustrated sigh. "It was...just the first thing I thought of. I just needed to make him back off, and that was all I had."

I bit my lip, my mind racing. "But...what if he finds out you were bluffing? You know what he’s capable of. Luke, he could make our lives a living nightmare."

Luke clenched his jaw, looking away, but there was something fierce and unyielding in his gaze when he looked back. "Oh trust me Teresa, he won’t find out."

His words settled in the room, heavy and stubborn, but there was a softness in his expression too, a weariness that he tried so hard to hide. Without another word, he opened the fridge, pulling out an ice pack and handing it to me gently. His fingers brushed mine for a moment, and the anger seemed to dissolve into something sadder, almost broken.

"Here," he murmured, his voice quieter now, careful. "This’ll help with the swelling."

I took the ice pack, pressing it gingerly to my cheek, feeling the cold seep into my skin, numbing the pain. I looked up at him, my heart tight with everything I wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for.

"Thank you," I whispered, barely audible. And in that moment, with the weight of everything pressing down on us, all I could do was sit back, feeling the quiet between us. This was our life—a life where I couldn’t even recognize myself anymore, where our family felt more like a battlefield than a safe place.

Luke sat beside me, his hand resting on my shoulder for a second, as if to say he understood, that he felt it too. And in silence, I wondered if things would ever be different...if there was any way out of the shadow our father and Lucian cast over us.

But for now, all I could do was sit there, hoping that, somehow, we’d both find a way to keep fighting.

*******

It had been a week since that ugly fight with my father. His words had been sharp, slicing through whatever connection we had left, leaving scars on both sides. I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was nothing more than a weight on Luke’s shoulders, holding him back from his own life and dreams. So, I made up my mind. With what little courage I could muster, I dressed up, braced myself, and stepped back into the unforgiving world of job hunting.

Each day, my old, beaten-up car rattled and groaned, barely hanging together, but still as stubborn as I was. It matched my spirit—refusing to give up, even when every fiber of me wanted to. I drove from one company to the next, gripping my worn-out CV like my last breath. Every interview felt like a piece of my heart was left on the table, as I laid out every hope, every skill, trying to convince someone that I was worth a chance. But as days turned to weeks, I realized my calls weren’t coming. Silence met every effort, like a vast, unending void swallowing each attempt.

Desperation sank in. Corporate dreams faded into a haze of what-ifs, and I found myself walking into places I’d never considered before. Abandoning skyscrapers and sleek offices, I wandered into malls and boutiques, wondering if any of them might need someone—just anyone—to lend a hand. One evening, as I was ready to give up and go back to Luke’s with a heart heavier than ever, I stumbled into a boutique in a bustling mall. They needed a salesperson, someone to help fold clothes, attend to customers, keep the store in order. It wasn’t the career I’d envisioned, but I clung to it like a my life depended on it. And to be honest, it really did. "At least," I told myself, "it’ll get me through until something better comes along."

But those days in the boutique weren’t easy. The work itself was tiring, but that wasn’t the hardest part. The hardest part was the silence, the emptiness that grew as I realized Lucian and the others—Juliette, Max, Katrina, Rylan—were gone. Completely gone. It was as if those five months I’d spent in their world were nothing but a fleeting dream that dissolved the moment I woke up. No texts, no calls. Not even a vague, distant check-in. I’d been erased from their lives, and the ache that realization left was a weight that settled deep in my chest, cold and unyielding. I carried it around every day, even when I tried to bury it under forced smiles and polite greetings to customers.

Then, one afternoon, as I was helping a customer, a feeling of dread crept over me. I didn’t know why, but something made me look up, glancing towards the entrance. My heart froze. Jennifer and Sarah, waltzed in with the confidence of queens. Their gazes found me almost instantly, and the look in their eyes was unmistakable. A glint of satisfaction, twisted with malice. I felt that familiar sting of humiliation rise up, a reminder of the world I’d lost and the place I now occupied.

They didn’t even try to hide their smirks as they strolled over, with that air of superiority they always wore so well. My heart raced, my palms felt clammy, and every instinct screamed at me to hide. But I was rooted to the spot, a helpless deer caught in the glare of two wolves.

"Teresa! What a surprise," Jennifer said, her voice dripping with false sweetness just like her mother’s. I most say, Vanessa taught them well. "Didn’t expect to see you working here."

I forced a smile, even though my face felt stiff. "Hi... Jennifer. Sarah."

"Oh, don’t be shy!" Sarah chimed in, glancing around the boutique with a barely-concealed sneer. "Such a... quaint place to work. But I suppose we all need to start somewhere."

I swallowed, the sting of humiliation prickling my skin. There was something so belittling in the way they looked at me, the way they relished every second of my discomfort.

"Maybe this is exactly where she’s meant to be," Jennifer said with a laugh, and I could feel her gaze sweep over me, assessing, judging. She leaned in closer, her perfume sharp and suffocating. "Tell me, Teresa... does Lucian even know you’re here? Dad even told us you had bodyguards and a high value job at some point. What happened? Where did all that go?"

The mention of his name—his name in their mouths, the mention of everything I had lost—cut deeper than I’d expected. I forced myself to stand a little straighter. "I don’t know what you’re talking about."

"Oh, don’t play coy," Jennifer sneered. "I bet he tossed you aside the moment he got bored. I’m told Lucian’s never was the type to stick around... and I doubt he’d waste his time on someone like you."

My hands clenched at my sides, trying to stop the trembling. How could they be so cruel? They were still my sisters for crying out loud! I wanted to say something, to defend myself, but the words felt tangled up in my throat.

Sarah laughed, a soft, mocking sound. "I wouldn’t worry, Jen. She’ll probably end up just like all the others—forgotten."

I could barely breathe. My vision blurred slightly, but I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of seeing me break. Not here. Not now.

With all the strength I could muster, I looked at them, trying to keep my voice steady. "Excuse me, but I have customers to help. Enjoy your shopping."

And I turned on my heel, not caring if they were laughing or sneering behind me. My heart pounded as I walked away, each step feeling heavier than the last. I ducked behind a display and leaned against it, closing my eyes, trying to calm my breaths as my stomach churned.

Just when I thought I’d buried the memories of that life, they came crashing back. Lucian’s face, his voice, his smell—it all washed over me in waves. I’d told myself it didn’t matter, that he didn’t matter. But here I was, struggling to keep my heart from splintering all over again.

In that moment, I wanted to forget him. To erase Lucian Blackwood and all he’d meant to me. But I knew it was impossible. Because even in his absence, he was a part of me—like an ache I couldn’t shake, like a whisper I couldn’t unhear.