Chapter 99:
She wanted to be Luna, but I wasn’t ready. I wasn’t the kind of man who went back on his word, but Rosa wasn’t fit to be my Luna.
“I’ll think about it,” I said dismissively, hoping for an end to her demands.
“The second thing…” Her voice trailed off, and the smile faded from her face.
I bit my lip hard, fighting the urge to growl at her as my irritation grew.
“It’s about that Aurora girl.”
My body tensed at the mention of her name, but I quickly masked my feelings before Rosa could notice them. The last thing I needed were questions.
“I don’t feel safe around her. Her presence threatens me. Can you make sure she leaves before I deliver our baby?” she asked, her voice soft but firm.
I swallowed the bile rising in my throat as Aurora’s image flashed in my mind.
“No. She is my property, and my property stays close to me,” I replied coldly, authority lacing my voice.
“But—”
My eyes flashed with anger at her protest, and I didn’t realize when a deep growl escaped my lips.
“Fuck it!” I snapped. “Aurora is not going anywhere!” I roared, my Alpha tone clear.
Relief washed over me when she fell silent, moving away from my chest. Her slim hands landed on mine.
I swallowed hard, shutting my eyes to concentrate on the sensation of her hands in mine.
Check updates now on gαℓησν𝓮ℓs․com
I fought the urge to pull her hands away; it left me with a sense of disgust. But she was carrying my child, so I let it pass.
“I’m sorry, my King,” she sniffed, pouting her lips and furrowing her brows, as though she were on the verge of tears. “I hate it when you’re mad at me.”
Silence stretched between us as we were both lost in our thoughts.
A knock on the door jolted us back to reality.
Rosa rose from my chest and walked to the door, her face filled with mischief. She should have stayed. I didn’t mind answering the door for her. I would do anything to make sure my baby was comfortable.
But then, I felt my soul leave my body as I stared at the figure standing in the doorway, like I had seen a ghost.
Aurora.
My gaze darted around the room hurriedly, and then, reluctantly, I tore my eyes away, not wanting her to catch me staring at her. She looked pale, her usually cheerful face now full of exhaustion, with dark circles under her eyes. The bones in her neck were prominent, and her cheeks appeared sunken.
Apart from the fact that she looked lean, I could swear she had been crying. The way she blinked repeatedly and lowered her head gave her away. Guilt clawed at my heart, my conscience pricking me harshly. I hated this feeling.
Not long ago, I had wanted to rid myself of her for separating me from Ivy, but I couldn’t understand why the look on her face made me feel so differently. Why did I suddenly feel like I hated myself for neglecting her? What was this thing that gnawed at my conscience?
