The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 121: Chapter 121 For the first time in a long time, I felt... at peace

Aria’s POV

My heart *stopped*.

For half a second, I just sat there, phone pressed to my ear, brain short-circuiting.

Then I shot off the couch like I’d been electrocuted.

I didn’t even think. Didn’t grab a robe or check my reflection. I just *ran*, barefoot across the hardwood floor, practically skidding to a stop in front of the door.

I yanked it open.

And there he was.

Damian stood in the hallway, bathed in the soft glow of the corridor lights.

His coat was draped over one arm, his tie loosened, the top buttons of his shirt undone. He looked exhausted—like he’d been traveling all day—but his eyes...

God, his eyes.

They were so bright. So focused. So *intense*. Like I was the only thing in the world that mattered.

"Damian, how did you—"

I didn’t get to finish.

He stepped forward, one hand sliding around my waist as he pulled me into his chest.

His other hand came up to cradle the back of my head, and he buried his face in my hair, breathing me in like I was oxygen.

The door clicked shut behind us.

"I wanted to see you," he murmured against my hair, his voice rough and low.

"I got off the plane and came straight here. I didn’t tell you because I thought you might be asleep, and I didn’t want to disturb you. But..."

He pulled back just enough to look down at me, his hand still tangled in my hair.

"I’m selfish. I couldn’t wait."

My chest ached in the best way.

I slid my arms around his back, holding him tightly. "You’re an idiot," I whispered. "Next time, just knock. Or call me before you get here. Don’t stand outside waiting."

I didn’t have to ask to know he’d been out there for a while.

That was just the kind of thing Damian did—stood outside my door like some kind of lovesick fool because he didn’t want to wake me.

Even though we’re already engaged.

It was late—later than I’d realized—but seeing him here erased every ounce of exhaustion I’d felt.

I wasn’t tired anymore. Not even close.

Damian came over often enough now that I’d started keeping things for him here. Toothbrush, razor, a couple sets of sleepwear. All the little things that made it easier for him to stay.

"I noticed you like black silk pajamas," I said, leading him toward the guest room. "So I picked up two different sets for you. I hope they’re okay."

I handed him the neatly folded clothes, trying to keep my tone casual. Taking care of people came naturally to me. It was just something I did without thinking.

But Damian froze.

His hands stilled over the fabric, and when he looked up at me, there was something raw and unguarded in his expression.

"When did you get these?"

"During my lunch break. I went to a few different stores to compare quality. These felt similar to what you usually wear, so I thought—"

"Aria."

He cut me off, his voice quiet but firm.

He ran his fingers over the silk slowly, then closed his hand around it, holding it like it was something precious.

"Thank you," he said, and the sincerity in his tone made my breath catch. "Thank you for thinking of me."

I blinked, caught off guard. "It’s nothing. Really. You don’t have to—"

"It’s not nothing." His voice was sharp now, almost fierce. "It’s never nothing."

He stepped closer, closing the distance between us until I had to tilt my head back to meet his eyes.

"Aria, listen to me. Every single thing you do for me—every thoughtful gesture, every little detail you notice—it matters. It *all* matters. These pajamas matter. *You* matter."

His words hit me like a tidal wave.

I stood there, rooted to the spot, my throat tight.

When had anyone ever said something like that to me?

I thought back to all the times I’d done things for Ethan.

Remembering how he took his coffee. Picking up his dry cleaning. Buying him clothes without being asked. Organizing his schedule down to the minute.

He’d never thanked me. Not once. He’d accepted it all like it was owed to him. Like I was supposed to do those things.

The contrast was so sharp it physically hurt.

But then warmth flooded in to replace the ache—soft and overwhelming and *real*.

This was what it felt like to be cherished. To have someone see you and value you and hold you like you were something irreplaceable.

Damian must have noticed the shift in my expression because he pulled me into his arms without a word.

"Aria," he said quietly, his lips brushing my temple. "Is there something you need to tell me? Did something happen today?"

I nodded, leaning into his chest.

"There was an article. About me. It was full of lies—horrible things that weren’t true. But it’s been taken care of now. I just... I wanted you to know. In case you saw it."

"I trust you, Aria."

His response was immediate. Unwavering.

"I chose you to be my future Luna. My wife. That means I trust you. Completely."

My face flushed at the word *wife*, but I forced myself to keep talking. "I just didn’t want it to reflect badly on you. People talk, and—"

"Let them talk." His hand came up to cup my cheek, tilting my face toward his.

"We’re going to be bound together, Aria. Your reputation is my reputation. If someone tries to hurt you, they’re trying to hurt me. And I don’t let anyone get away with that."

The intensity in his voice sent a shiver down my spine.

I looked up at him, and for the first time in a long time, I felt... at peace.

Like I could finally stop bracing for the next blow.

Because Damian wasn’t going to let anyone hurt me.

And he wasn’t going anywhere.