The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 79: Chapter 79 The Bloodshed Hidden Behind Gentleness

Damian’s POV

"Nothing."

"Aria."

"It doesn’t matter."

"It matters to me." I caught her free hand, bringing it to rest over my heart. "Were you worried about me?"

"No." But she couldn’t quite meet my eyes.

"Liar." I smiled despite everything. "You care about me."

"I care about not having your death on my conscience." But her fingers curled slightly against my chest, and I knew I’d hit a nerve.

Rick pulled up to the hospital entrance.

"We’re here, Alpha."

Aria immediately tried to climb off my lap, but I held her still.

"Let me—"

"Walk in carrying you, or walk in with you at my side." I gave her a look. "Your choice."

"You can barely walk at all!"

"Try me."

We stared at each other for a long moment before she huffed out a breath.

"Fine. But if you collapse, I’m leaving you on the floor."

"Fair enough."

Rick opened the door and I carefully maneuvered us both out, keeping Aria close.

The emergency room staff took one look at me and immediately ushered us back to the same private room as before.

The doctor—a middle-aged she-wolf named Dr. Matthews—examined the wound quickly.

"A few stitches came loose, but it’s not as bad as it looks. I’ll just need to add a couple more and you’ll be good to go."

"See?" I caught Aria’s eye. "Not that serious."

"Not that—" She turned to Dr. Matthews. "He was fighting rogues with an open wound!"

"Alpha wolves heal fast," Dr. Matthews said mildly as she prepped the stitches. "Though I wouldn’t recommend making a habit of it."

I watched Aria’s expression shift from worry to realization to irritation.

"You let me think it was worse than it was," she accused.

"I never said it was worse." I couldn’t quite hide my smile. "You assumed."

"You manipulative—"

"Careful, sweetheart." I leaned back as Dr. Matthews began working. "You’re in a hospital. Medical professionals frown on violence."

She glared at me, but there was something else in her eyes. Relief, maybe. Or amusement.

Dr. Matthews finished quickly and stepped back. "All done. Keep it clean and dry for 48 hours. No shifting, no strenuous activity."

She turned to Aria. "He’ll need someone to monitor him—Alpha wolves are terrible at following medical advice."

"I’ll be fine on my own," I said.

"You’ll do no such thing." Dr. Matthews handed Aria a list. "He needs supervision."

I turned to Aria, catching her hand before she could pull away. "Please."

"Damian—"

"I know you’re angry with me. I know I don’t deserve your help." I held her gaze. "But I’m asking anyway. Just for tonight. Please, Aria. Stay."

I watched the internal struggle play out on her face. Part of her wanted to walk away—I could see it. But there was something else too. Something softer.

"You’re manipulating me," she accused.

"Yes." No point in lying. "Is it working?"

"You’re impossible."

"You said that already."

"Because it bears repeating." She sighed, rubbing her temples. "Fine. One night. But tomorrow morning, I’m gone."

Victory surged through me, though I kept my expression neutral. One night was more than I’d hoped for.

One night was a start.

"Thank you," I said quietly.

---

Aria’s POV

I spent the entire night at the hospital watching over Damian.

The private room was quiet except for the occasional beep of monitors and the soft rustle of sheets whenever he shifted. I’d pulled a chair close to his bed, telling myself I was just fulfilling my obligation to Dr. Matthews. Nothing more.

But every time he winced, my chest tightened. Every time his breathing changed, I found myself leaning forward to check on him.

This was dangerous. I was getting too involved, too invested in someone who’d already proven he kept secrets from me.

"Stop overthinking," Damian’s voice cut through my thoughts, rough with exhaustion. "I can practically hear the gears turning in your head."

"I thought you were asleep."

"Hard to sleep when you’re staring holes into me." He opened one eye, a hint of amusement flickering in those dark gray depths. "Come here."

"I’m fine where I am."

"Aria." He patted the space beside him on the hospital bed. "Please. My neck hurts from turning to look at you."

"That’s emotional manipulation."

"Is it working?"

I wanted to refuse. Should have refused. But the exhaustion weighing on my bones made the decision for me.

"Fine. But only because that chair is killing my back."

His lips curved into a smile as I carefully climbed onto the bed beside him, trying to keep distance between us. The attempt was futile—he immediately wrapped an arm around me, pulling me against his chest.

"Damian—"

"Just sleep, sweetheart." His voice was softer now, his fingers trailing slowly down my spine. "I’ve got you."

I should have protested. Should have moved away.

Instead, I found myself relaxing into his warmth, my hand resting over his heart. The steady rhythm beneath my palm was oddly soothing.

"This doesn’t mean anything," I mumbled against his chest.

"Of course not." But I could hear the smile in his voice.

His scent surrounded me—cedar and lavender, intoxicating and familiar. My eyes grew heavy, and despite every logical reason not to, I let myself drift off in his arms.