The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 76: Chapter 76 Damian, My Unexpected Hero

Aria’s POV

The wine was definitely hitting harder than I’d expected.

I stared at the glass in front of me—my fourth? Fifth?—and tried to remember when I’d become the kind of person who day-drank expensive Bordeaux in fancy wine bars.

Oh right. About three hours ago, when Rachel had insisted on properly thanking me.

"So," Rachel said, leaning forward with a conspiratorial grin that I’d come to recognize meant trouble.

"Are we going to talk about the elephant in the room? Or should I say, the devastatingly handsome Alpha King in the room?"

I nearly choked on my wine. "What?"

"Oh, come on." She waved a hand dismissively. "You two are already engaged. I can’t think of any other man who would have you this troubled."

"It’s complicated," I muttered, taking another sip. The wine was making everything pleasantly fuzzy around the edges, which was exactly what I needed right now.

"Honey, everything worth having is complicated." Rachel’s expression softened. "But seriously—are you okay? You sounded off on the phone, and now you’re stress-drinking very expensive wine, which is usually not your style."

God, was I that transparent?

I took a long drink, the wine warming my throat. "He lied to me, Rachel. Or—not lied exactly, but he kept things from me. Important things. Dangerous things."

"About what?"

"He was hurt." The words came tumbling out now, fueled by wine and frustration.

"And he didn’t tell me. He just... kept me in the dark. Like I’m some fragile thing that needs to be protected from reality."

Rachel was quiet for a moment, swirling the wine in her glass. "Or maybe he was trying to protect you because he cares about you."

"That’s not the point—"

"Isn’t it?" She leaned forward.

"Aria, I get it. You’ve spent your whole life fighting to be taken seriously. First at Silver Creek, now with your family’s business. The last thing you want is someone treating you like you’re breakable."

She reached across the table and squeezed my hand. "But from what I’ve seen of Damian Blackwood, that man looks at you like you hung the moon."

"Like you’re the most precious thing in his world. So yeah, maybe he was being overprotective. But it came from a place of caring, not disrespect."

I blinked back the sudden sting of tears. "I just... I can’t be with someone who sees me as weak. Who thinks I need to be sheltered from the truth."

"Then tell him that." Rachel’s grip tightened. "Use your words, honey. Make him understand what you need. "

"But don’t throw away something real just because he made one mistake while trying to keep you safe."

I stared down at my wine glass, her words settling into the fuzzy warmth of my thoughts.

Was I overreacting? Or was I right to be angry?

Both, maybe. The wine wasn’t helping me figure it out.

"You know what?" Rachel suddenly stood up, her eyes fixed on someone across the bar.

"I just spotted the guy I’ve been trying to get the attention of for weeks. And he’s finally here without his usual entourage."

I followed her gaze to a well-dressed man at the other end of the bar, laughing with the bartender.

"You’re going to leave me here drunk and wallowing?" I asked, but there was no heat in it.

"You’re going to sit here and think about what I said," she corrected, already smoothing down her dress. "And maybe text your Alpha King and actually talk to him instead of spiraling." She grinned. "Besides, you’re not that drunk. You’ve got at least two more glasses before you hit actually drunk territory."

"That’s not reassuring."

"Wasn’t meant to be." She blew me a kiss. "Stay here, finish your wine, and for god’s sake, be honest with yourself about what you really want. I’ll check on you in a bit."

And then she was gone, weaving through the crowd with the confidence of a woman on a mission.

I was left alone with my wine and my thoughts—a dangerous combination.

I signaled the bartender for another glass. If I was going to sit here and think, I might as well do it properly buzzed.

The wine arrived, deep red and expensive. I took a sip, letting Rachel’s words replay in my mind.

*But don’t throw away something real just because he made one mistake while trying to keep you safe.*

Had I?

I took another drink, trying to organize my wine-soaked thoughts.

Maybe Rachel was right, maybe I should just text him—when I noticed the attention.

Three men, clearly werewolves based on their build and the predatory way they moved, were making their way toward me.

I turned back to my wine, hoping they’d take the hint and leave me alone.

They didn’t.

"Hey there, beautiful." The first one leaned against the bar next to me, his smile too wide and too confident. "You look like you could use some company."

"I’m good, thanks." I didn’t look up from my glass.

"Come on, don’t be like that." A second one appeared on my other side, effectively boxing me in. "We’re just being friendly."

"I said I’m good." I set my glass down firmly, meeting his eyes. "Now if you’ll excuse me—"

I tried to stand, but the third one had moved to block my path.

"What’s the hurry?" His eyes flashed yellow as he leaned in closer. "The night’s still young. And you smell... interesting. Human, right?"

My heart started to race. The bar suddenly felt too crowded, too loud, with these three males surrounding me.

"I’m not interested." I tried to push past them, but the first one caught my wrist.

"We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet." His grip was tight enough to hurt. "I’m Connor, Beta of the Morrison Pack. And you are?"

"Leaving." I yanked my arm, but his hold didn’t budge.

The second one—taller, with a cocky grin—moved closer, invading my space. "That’s not very polite. We just want to get to know you better."

"Let go of me." My voice was steady despite the fear creeping up my spine. "Now."

"Or what?" The third one laughed, revealing slightly elongated canines. "What’s a fragile little human going to do?"

The music seemed to fade as my pulse thundered in my ears. I was trapped. Three werewolves who clearly didn’t care about the word ’no,’ and I was too small, too human, too—

"You should learn some manners," Connor said, his hand sliding up my arm. "Maybe we should teach you how to properly respect wolves."

I opened my mouth to scream, to cause enough of a scene that maybe someone would intervene, when suddenly Connor’s grip on my wrist vanished.

Actually, ’vanished’ wasn’t quite accurate.

He was violently yanked backward, spinning around, and then—

The crack of fist meeting jaw was shockingly loud even over the music.

Connor went down hard, crashing into his friends and sending all three of them sprawling across the bar floor.

The crowd immediately backed away, creating a circle around the fallen wolves and—

Damian.