Hiding the Alpha's Twins: His Wolfless Luna
Chapter 31

Chapter 31: Chapter 31

Dominic’s POV

I shouldn’t have come.

The thought hit me like a gut punch as I pressed my back against the cold wall outside my mother’s sitting room. Her voice floated through the partially open door, soft and warm, a tone I had not heard in years.

And then there was Samantha’s voice.

It was not the sharp, defensive tone she used whenever we crossed paths recently. This voice was softer, more vulnerable. It caught me off guard, the way it threaded through me, stirring memories I had no right to hold on to.

I clenched my fists, forcing myself to stay rooted to the spot even though every instinct screamed at me to burst through the door. My wolf was restless, clawing at the edges of my mind, demanding to see her, to speak to her. But I couldn’t. Not yet.

“I’ve managed,” she said, her voice was quiet but firm. “The Moonstone Pack has been good to me. It’s peaceful there.”

Peaceful.

The word stung. Was she happy without me? Had she found a life so free of the chaos I brought into hers that she had never even considered coming back?

My mother’s voice broke through my thoughts. “Peace is important. But it’s not everything,” she said.

I could almost see the way she looked at Samantha when she said it, her eyes full of that mix of love and scrutiny she reserved for the people she cared about. She always had a soft spot for Samantha, when she disappeared, my mother had been hard on me, subtly blaming me for her disappearance.

I leaned closer, keeping my movements silent. I should not be doing this. Eavesdropping on my mother and Samantha wasn’t just low — it was pathetic. But I needed to know what she thought, what she felt, without the walls she always put up around me.

“I’ve missed you,” Samantha admitted to her. And that was one of the reasons why I had given my mother her whereabouts, it was not only so they would see each other again, but also to see if she could changed her mind.

I heard my mother’s chair creak as she leaned forward. “I’ve missed you too, Samantha. You were like a daughter to me. You know that, right? Losing you... it felt like losing her all over again.”

Her?

I realized that she was talking about Samantha’s mother who was my mom’s best friend. They had been inseparable and when she died, she was devastated especially since we just lost my father that same year.

And Samantha? She had been the one thing that brought my mother joy after years of mourning, and now it felt like I had also taken away my mother’s joy when Samantha left.

“I never meant to disappear,” Samantha said and I could hear the regret in her voice. “But I couldn’t stay. Not after everything that happened.”

The words felt like an accusation, even though she was not speaking to me. I leaned my head against the wall, closing my eyes as guilt twisted in my gut.

You drove her away. I told myself, even though it was hard to admit it.

My mother’s reply came quietly, carrying more understanding than I deserved. “I know. I don’t blame you, Samantha. You did what you had to do.”

But she should blame me. Samantha had been her family, her second chance at healing, and I had destroyed that too.

“He hasn’t been the same,” my mother said suddenly, and my breath caught.

Samantha did not respond right away, but I could imagine the way she stiffened, the way her eyes narrowed when my name was brought up.

“Losing you... it broke something in him,” my mother continued, carefully, almost hesitant. “He drove himself into his duties — training, securing alliances, strengthening the pack, like it could fill the void you left. But nothing did.”

Her words were like a knife. I wanted to deny it, to tell myself that losing Samantha had not wrecked me the way it clearly had. But I couldn’t.

Samantha’s reply came sharp nevertheless. “He made his choices.”

I flinched.

“He chose his woman over everything else,” she said, her voice quieter but no less biting. “I was there. I endured it all. But I can’t do it again, Lena. I’m sorry.”

My heart twisted painfully at her words. She wasn’t wrong. I had chosen Olivia when I should have chosen her.

And now I was paying the price.

“There were nights,” my mother said after a pause, “when he wouldn’t even come home. He would spend hours alone in the training grounds, beating himself against targets long after everyone else had gone to bed. He never said it outright, but it was clear to anyone who knew him — he was punishing himself. For losing you.”

I exhaled sharply, and I did not expect my breath to come out trembling. I fidgeted with the car key in my hand as I listened further.

“He didn’t lose me,” she replied. “He pushed me away. There’s a difference.”

She was right. I had pushed her away. But hearing her say it, hearing the quiet pain in her voice, cut deeper than I thought it would.

“He doesn’t get to be broken over something he chose to destroy,” she added, and my wolf growled low in my chest, reacting to the raw truth of her statement.

My mother did not argue. She simply sighed, shifting the conversation in a different direction.

But Samantha’s words lingered in my head, echoing like a damaged old disc, repeating themselves and piercing my chest with every word.

I should have walked away then. I should have let them have their conversation in peace. But I couldn’t.

“Samantha,” my mother said, her voice growing serious, “you know the Silver Crescent Pack will always be your home.”

Home.

The word felt foreign now, even to me. The time Samantha left, the pack never felt like home anymore but more of a duty, a heavy responsibility that I never thought would make me feel burdened. But then I realized, it was Samantha that made it all light, that made it a home for me. It was she who kept our room filled, the bed warm, and the soups and coffee hot in the morning. When she disappeared, everything went cold, heavy, and foreign.

“I don’t know if I can,” Samantha admitted. “My life in the Moonstone Pack... it’s quiet, Lena. It’s more peaceful.”

Peaceful. That damn word again.

“You don’t have to decide now,” my mother said. “Just... don’t close the door entirely.”

“I’ll think about it,” Samantha replied with uncertainty.

The conversation wound down, and after a few seconds, the door creaked open, and I stepped back into the shadows with my heart pounding against my ribs.

Samantha walked out, her head down, with a distant look on her face.

She did not see me standing there, watching her go.

But she would.

Not yet.

Now that she was here, I wasn’t going to let her slip away again.