The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Chapter 285: Chapter 285 We can end this

Damian’s POV

Aldric started forward, then hesitated.

His mouth opened like he wanted to say something, but in the end all he managed was a bitter, furious mutter: "He really is insane. I wasn’t wrong about that."

He turned and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

But no one was paying attention to him anymore. One of the staff rushed to get the first aid kit.

Grace pulled out her phone, already dialing the private doctor.

Only Elena seemed to understand what Aria was trying to do.

Aria held me close, watching the family scramble in panicked, useless circles around us, and quietly shook her head.

Grace gestured for the staff to bandage Aria’s hand quietly and clean up the blood on the floor without making a scene.

Elena didn’t argue. Andrew helped her to her feet, and after a few long, worried glances in our direction, they all slipped out of the room.

The house went silent.

All that was left was the uneven rhythm of our breathing and the too-loud thud of our heartbeats tangled together in the quiet.

Aria didn’t let go. She rested her chin lightly on top of my head and stroked my back with her uninjured hand, slow and steady, over and over, until the trembling in my body began to fade.

*She’s still here. She stayed.*

My wolf’s voice was quieter now, softer, like he was trying to reassure himself as much as me.

*Even after what we did. She stayed.*

"There. See? They’re gone. It’s fine now. You’re a grown man—why are you acting like a kid throwing a tantrum?"

Her tone was so calm, so ordinary, like this kind of thing happened all the time.

But we both knew better. The more normal she tried to sound, the more it gave away how hard she was working to hold herself together.

"Aria."

Finally, I said her name.

She shifted back just enough to look at me. "Feeling better?"

I kept my head down, one leg stretched out, the other bent at the knee. I didn’t have the strength to sit up straight. My whole body felt slack, defeated.

I didn’t answer her. Instead, I slowly lifted my hand, fingers trembling as I reached for hers. I touched the thick bandage wrapped around her palm as carefully as I could, like I was looking at something priceless that I’d shattered myself.

The weight of it—the self-loathing, the disgust—was suffocating.

*We’re supposed to protect her. That’s what mates do.*

My wolf’s voice cracked.

*And we hurt her instead.*

"Does it hurt?" The words scraped out of my throat, barely audible.

"Surface wounds fade fast. But heartache? That takes longer to heal."

Her voice was soft, soothing, like a night breeze.

"I just... I—"

I couldn’t bring myself to look at her. I hated what I’d become in that moment—hated myself so completely that I wished I’d never existed at all.

How could I face someone I cared about when I couldn’t even face myself?

My wolf was silent now, curled up deep inside, radiating shame so thick I could taste it.

He’d tried to fight back. Tried to wrestle control away from whatever darkness had seized me. But he’d been powerless. We both had been.

"It’s okay. We’ll talk about it later. Just breathe for now."

Of course she could tell. What happened wasn’t just anger or an emotional outburst.

I’d lost my mind. Completely. And my wolf had lost control of our body right along with me.

"Are you afraid?" I asked quietly.

"Afraid?"

"Of me."

I let out a short, hollow laugh.

Aria’s brow furrowed. "People have moments where they—"

"You didn’t answer the question." I cut her off. "And it’s normal if you are. You should be."

The way her eyes flickered away for just a second told me everything I needed to know.

"Damian..."

"Because... Aldric was right. I really am insane."

I took a deep breath and leaned back, bracing myself with one hand behind me.

In that moment, every nerve I’d kept wound tight for years, every last shred of pride I’d been clinging to—it all fell apart.

"Don’t say that. You’re not—"

"I am."

I turned my head slightly, the faint light catching the red still lingering in my eyes. My voice was bitter, mocking. "Vanessa left me because of this. I have a condition. It can come back. And it did."

*She knew. She knew what we were and she still left.*

My wolf’s voice was hollow.

*And now Aria knows too.*

"Stop—"

Aria’s gaze dropped to her hand, wrapped thick in gauze.

For the first time, I didn’t stop when she asked me to.

"Aria, I’m selfish. I planned to hide this from you from the start."

This was the first time I’d ever put my own need to speak above her comfort.

Aria’s expression shifted. I remembered asking her once what she’d do if I ever lied to her.

"So what?" she said quietly.

Her voice gave nothing away. It was too calm. Like the stillness before a storm.

"So..." I paused, and when I spoke again, my voice had lost all its warmth. It was cold, unfamiliar, like it belonged to someone else entirely. "So if you want to walk away now, we can. We can end this."

*No. Don’t say that.*

My wolf’s voice surged with panic.

*Don’t push her away—*

I ignored him. I had to.

I glanced at her out of the corner of my eye.

She was looking down, her injured hand shifting slightly.

I couldn’t let myself think about what would’ve happened if I hadn’t snapped out of it in time. If she weren’t sitting here in front of me, whole and breathing.

I’d let myself believe, just for a little while, that I could have this. That I could have her.

But the dream was over now.

No matter how badly I wanted to hold on, I couldn’t.

Not if it meant hurting her.

Vanessa had been right. I was just barely holding myself together. And eventually, I’d break.

My wolf would fight me. He’d claw and rage and beg me not to let her go.

But he’d been there. He’d felt it too—the moment we lost control.

And he knew, just like I did, that we couldn’t guarantee it wouldn’t happen again.

"What did you just say?"

Aria’s head snapped up. Our eyes met.

I looked away quickly, forcing the words out. "I said it clearly. You don’t have to settle for this. I’m giving you a chance to leave."

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