The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 72: Chapter 72 Falling For the Alpha King

Aria’s POV

Relief flooded through me so powerfully I thought my knees might give out. He was okay. He was standing right here in front of me, solid and real and *alive.*

But then the full weight of what had just happened crashed down on me like a tidal wave.

I’d dropped everything. Abandoned my team in the middle of what should have been our celebration. Took the private jet without a second thought.

Spent eight hours in the air convinced I was going to arrive too late, that I’d never get the chance to tell him—

To tell him what, exactly?

The thought made my chest tighten, but I shoved it away. Because right now, relief was rapidly giving way to something else entirely.

Fury.

"Then why didn’t you tell me?!" I demanded, my voice cracking on the last word.

I pushed against his chest, putting space between us even though every instinct I had was screaming to stay close.

"Why didn’t you call? Text? Send *any* kind of message to let me know you were okay?"

Damian’s expression shifted, something almost guilty flickering across his features. "My phone was destroyed in the fight. I couldn’t—"

"For three days?" I cut him off, my voice rising. "Your phone was destroyed for three entire days and you couldn’t find *any* way to contact me? "

"You’re the Alpha King, Damian. You have resources. You have people. You could have found a way if you’d wanted to."

His jaw tightened. "The doctors said it wasn’t serious. I didn’t want to worry you over nothing."

"*Nothing?*" The word came out as almost a shriek. "You think me spending eight hours on a plane thinking you were *dying* is nothing? You think the absolute terror I felt is *nothing?*"

"That’s not what I meant." He reached for me, but I stepped back, wrapping my arms around myself. "Aria, please—"

"No." My voice shook, but I forced the words out anyway. "You don’t get to decide what I should or shouldn’t worry about. You don’t get to make that choice for me."

"I was trying to protect you—"

"By hiding things from me?" I could feel tears burning behind my eyes again, but these were different. Angry tears. Hurt tears. "By keeping me in the dark? That’s not protection, Damian. That’s control."

Something flashed in his eyes—surprise, maybe, or recognition. Like I’d hit too close to home.

"You had more important things to focus on," he said, his voice carefully controlled now. "Your business. I didn’t want to distract you from—"

"Don’t you dare." I took another step back, needing the distance.

"Don’t you dare try to make this about me being too busy or too focused on my own life. This is about you not trusting me enough to tell me the truth."

"That’s not fair—"

"Isn’t it?" I wrapped my arms tighter around myself, feeling suddenly cold despite the warmth of the hospital corridor. "You think I’m not strong enough to handle knowing you were hurt. You think I’m too fragile, too human, too *weak* to—"

"I never said that." His voice was sharp now, his own frustration bleeding through. "I never once thought you were weak."

"Then why didn’t you tell me?" The question hung between us, raw and desperate. "Why did I have to hear it from Rick? Why did I have to get on a plane thinking I might never see you again?"

He opened his mouth, then closed it. For the first time since I’d met him, the Alpha King looked completely at a loss for words.

"You know what hurts the most?" I continued, my voice dropping to barely above a whisper. "It’s not that you got hurt. It’s not even that you didn’t tell me."

"It’s that you didn’t think I deserved to know. You didn’t think what we have—whatever *this* is—was important enough for you to reach out."

"That’s not true." He moved toward me again, and this time I didn’t step back. Couldn’t. "Aria, you’re the most important—"

"Then prove it." I looked up at him, letting him see every ounce of hurt and anger and confusion swirling inside me.

"Stop treating me like I’m made of glass. Stop making decisions for me. Stop hiding things because you think you’re protecting me."

His hands came up to cup my face, his touch achingly gentle. "I’m sorry. God, Aria, I’m so sorry. You’re right. About all of it. I should have found a way to contact you. I should have—"

"I need some time." The words came out before I could stop them, but once they were out, I knew they were true. "I need to think. To process all of this."

His hands dropped from my face like I’d burned him. "What?"

"I can’t do this right now." I gestured vaguely between us, my chest tight.

"I can’t stand here and pretend everything is fine when it’s not. I need space. I need to figure out what I’m even doing here."

"Aria—"

"Please." I held up a hand, stopping him.

"I’m exhausted. I’m emotionally drained. I just spent eight hours thinking you were dying, and now I find out you’ve been awake and fine and just didn’t bother to tell me."

"I can’t—I need time to process this."

I could see the war playing out on his face. The Alpha King who was used to getting what he wanted, battling against the man who genuinely cared about me. Who knew he’d hurt me.

Finally, he nodded. Just once, stiff and reluctant.

"How much time?"

"I don’t know." And I didn’t. All I knew was that my chest felt like it was caving in, and I needed to get away before I completely fell apart. "I just need to be alone for a while. To think."

I turned to go, but his voice stopped me.

"Aria."

I looked back at him, this powerful man standing in the middle of a hospital corridor in nothing but a hospital gown, looking more vulnerable than I’d ever seen him.

"I am sorry," he said quietly. "Truly. I never meant to hurt you."

Something in my chest cracked a little wider.

"I know," I whispered. "But that doesn’t change the fact that you did."

Then I turned and walked away, leaving the Alpha King standing alone in the hallway.

But the moment I turned the corner and was finally out of sight, I collapsed against the wall, my legs giving out as the sobs I’d been holding back finally broke free.

Because the worst part wasn’t that he kept it from me.

It was that for those eight agonizing hours on the plane, I’d realized something I’d been too afraid to admit.

I was falling for Damian Blackwood.