Chapter 146: Chapter 146 Aren’t you the Luna of Silver Creek Pack’s Alpha Ethan Holt?
Aria’s POV
I helped Emily into the spare powder-blue gown Elena had brought. Our builds were similar enough that it fit her perfectly.
"Thank you," Emily murmured, eyes on the borrowed dress. "I’ll have it cleaned and returned."
"Don’t worry about it," I said. "Isn’t this what employers are supposed to do?"
She started to say something, then stopped herself. "Don’t defend me in front of crowds again. Anyone connected to me ends up suffering for it."
"Why is that?"
Her words sparked my curiosity. My assistant clearly carried more baggage than I’d realized.
"You don’t need to know." She climbed out of the car and walked off in the opposite direction instead of coming back with us.
Elena watched her go, puzzled. "She seems difficult—resentful, even, after you helped her."
"Her work makes up for her personality," I said, looping my arm through Elena’s. "I’m sorry about the dress, though. I know you bought it for me."
"Nonsense. Once I give you something, it’s yours to do with as you please." Elena’s warmth toward me never failed to ache in my chest—how could Damian’s mother be so kind, when my own had abandoned me without a second thought?
Back at the dinner, Damian stood in conversation with someone I hadn’t expected: Alpha Andrew, who’d apparently finished his business early after all.
The tension in Damian’s face eased the moment he saw me. He crossed to me in three strides and took my hand.
"Alpha Andrew—" I began.
"Still calling me that?" Damian murmured near my ear.
"...Dad," I corrected.
The change in Andrew’s expression was immediate—something vulnerable flickering through before his eyes and mouth softened with unmistakable pleasure.
As Alpha King, Andrew Blackwood commanded the most powerful Pack in the werewolf world, radiating an authority that was never performed, only inherent.
Yet a single word from me had cracked that legendary composure.
He pulled a set of keys from his pocket. "Limited edition, commissioned for you. Just arrived—your name-change gift."
The Rolls-Royce emblem gleamed on the ring. Worth nearly a million dollars, tossed off as casually as everything else the Blackwoods gave.
"Thank you, Dad, but you didn’t need to be so generous."
I glanced at Damian. The family never gave anything modest—jewelry, property, now this.
I’d once felt uneasy accepting it, but Damian always said it was simply how they showed acceptance. So when Andrew mentioned "business" earlier, he’d meant shopping for my car.
It was nothing like Silver Creek Pack, where Margaret constantly implied I wasn’t good enough, and Sylvia and Nathan treated me like a threat.
The Blackwoods sat at the top of werewolf society and needed no such games to prove it.
Before I could finish thanking him, Damian had already tucked the keys into my clutch—smooth, practiced, as if caring for me were the most natural thing in the world.
Watching him, Andrew’s eyes flickered with something like realization: his son was no longer the boy who’d once needed harsh discipline.
Then the formal dinner began.
Sylvia and Victor approached together, greeting me warmly and ushering the Blackwood family to the head table.
I noticed the other guests watching the Alpha King’s family with awe and careful deference. Several Alphas even dipped their heads in instinctive submission, a reminder of just how elevated Damian’s position truly was.
This was only my second encounter with Sylvia, yet her attitude toward me had improved dramatically.
She kept calling me "Aria" and saying "we’re all family now," as if she’d long accepted me and was playing the role of proud natal family.
But the warmer she acted, the more uneasy I felt. Sylvia was never charitable without reason—every move she made served a purpose.
Her sudden friendliness meant either Damian’s status forced her hand, or she was setting a trap.
Once the hosts were seated, the guests followed.
The seating arrangement at the head table was meticulously calculated: Alpha King Andrew at the center, Luna Queen Elena on his right, Damian on his left, and me beside Damian.
The hierarchy couldn’t have been clearer.
Tonight’s guest list was extensive—Alphas and Lunas from various Packs, alongside prominent human business figures.
Sylvia clearly had something to announce, and she wanted maximum witnesses.
Sure enough, after brief pleasantries, Sylvia picked up the microphone.
"Thank you all for joining us tonight. We’re here to share some wonderful news." Her practiced smile turned toward Damian and me.
"The heir to the Smith family, Aria Smith, has officially completed her engagement to Alpha King Damian Blackwood. From today forward, she will become our world’s Luna Queen."
Enthusiastic applause erupted. Countless gazes shifted between Damian and me—assessment, envy, calculation all mixed together.
I felt the full weight of those stares. Becoming Damian’s Luna meant standing at the absolute peak of power, but also becoming the target of jealousy, suspicion, and challenge.
At a nearby table, I caught Vanessa watching us. Even across the distance, I could read the complexity in her expression—envy, resentment, undisguised bitterness.
She poured herself several drinks in quick succession, movements sharp, as if trying to numb herself with alcohol.
"From this day forward, the Smith and Blackwood families are united." Sylvia continued, barely concealing her smugness. "We hope our old friends and new partners will offer their continued support going forward."
She paused, then abruptly redirected her attention to me. "Now, let’s invite tonight’s guest of honor, Aria, to say a few words!"
My heart seized. I was completely unprepared—but since Sylvia had publicly called on me, refusing would make me look ungracious.
This dinner was ostensibly held in my honor; declining would seem deliberately disrespectful.
Yet something felt wrong. Why would Sylvia put me on the spot like this? She knew I hadn’t prepared anything. She’d done this deliberately.
I rose to my feet, feeling Damian’s hand tighten around mine. His eyes held both support and a flicker of wariness—he sensed it too.
"Be careful," he said quietly, voice pitched for my ears alone. "If anything goes wrong, I’ll handle it."
I took a deep breath and walked to the center of the gathering, accepting the microphone from Sylvia. Every eye in the room focused on me.
That scrutinized feeling reminded me of my days at Silver Creek Pack—every public appearance had meant walking on eggshells, terrified that one wrong word would give Margaret or Clara ammunition to use against me.
But things were different now. I was no longer a fake Luna watching everyone’s moods. I was the Smith family heir, the mate the Alpha King had chosen.
I’d barely opened my mouth when a rough male voice cut me off.
"Miss Smith?"
The voice carried unmistakable skepticism. I followed the sound to a man in his fifties rising from his seat—expensive suit, the bearing of a high-ranking Pack official.
"Aren’t you the Luna of Silver Creek Pack’s Alpha Ethan Holt?" His voice rang clearly through the silent pavilion.
"I saw you and your husband together at a business dinner just last month—looked completely devoted to each other. How did you suddenly become the Smith family heir and complete an engagement with the Alpha King?"
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