The Alpha's Stolen Luna
Chapter 24: A Packmate

Chapter 24: A Packmate

Kaya

I clutch the collar of the oversized black shirt, pulling the fabric together even though I know the blanket is already covering me. It’s a pointless gesture, but I can’t seem to stop myself. Oliver left the room only a few minutes ago, yet the restless whirlwind inside my mind makes it feel like hours—maybe even days.

I’m not ready for this. For any of it. For the new reality I’ve been thrown into without warning.

Damien said he had a plan. I thought that plan was to bring me back, to rescue me. But now... Did he really betray me? After everything we’ve been through?

I don’t get the chance to sink too deep into my thoughts before a light knock breaks the silence, jolting me back to the present. My body tenses as I instinctively check that I’m still wrapped securely in the blanket, my fingers tightening around the fabric.

"Kaya?" A deep yet pleasant male voice drifts through the closed door, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.

The doctor is a man.

"Y-yes," I stammer, steeling myself to face yet another stranger. But the door remains closed. My eyebrows furrow in surprise, and before I can speak again, the voice returns—calm, patient.

"Can I come in?"

I freeze.

Even back in Dark Wood, when I was under Damien’s protection, I never experienced this level of courtesy. No one ever asked. They simply entered, as if my presence, my space, was never something to be considered.

The silence stretches as I struggle to process the simple question, and then, after a moment, another gentle knock sounds. His voice is tinged with concern this time.

"Kaya? Is everything alright?"

"Yes!" The word bursts from my lips, sharper and louder than I intend, and I lurch forward slightly, startled by my own voice. The blanket slips from my shoulders, pooling around my waist, but I barely notice as I hurriedly add, "Please, come in!"

The door creaks open, and yet another tall, well-built man steps inside. He’s clad in a crisp white medical coat, a large canvas bag slung over his shoulder.

I take a moment to study him. It seems like every single person in this pack is tall and physically imposing, their strength practically radiating from them. Then again, I wouldn’t expect anything less from Blood Moon.

Unlike Oliver and Magnus, however, this man is noticeably older—perhaps in his late forties. Streaks of gray cut through his otherwise dark, sandy-colored hair, adding a distinguished air to his appearance. _{fre(e)webnove.l.c.om}

But it’s his face that truly captures my attention. He looks... kind. There’s a warmth in the deep-set brown eyes that soften his strong features, and his full, neatly trimmed beard gives him a grandfatherly charm—the kind of grandpa who sneaks you candy and little gifts just because he enjoys seeing you smile.

Catching my lingering gaze, the doctor offers an easy smile, revealing a row of straight, white teeth beneath his thick mustache.

"Good morning, young lady," he greets me, his voice smooth and velvety as he approaches at a measured pace. Gently, he lowers his bag to the floor. "My name is Ron. I’m the Blood Moon pack’s doctor."

He waits, patient and unhurried, as if giving me space to process his presence. But I just sit there, staring like an idiot, unable to summon a single word in response.

"Well," Ron continues, his tone light, as though he’s speaking to a skittish animal, "I already know your name, so there’s no need to feel pressured to introduce yourself if you don’t want to."

Another unexpected kindness.

On my first day in Dark Wood, no one had even bothered to ask for my name. In the doctor’s office there, I had simply been registered as an omega with a number attached to my status—just another nameless body, reduced to an identifier like some kind of online handle.

"Alpha Magnus informed me that you’ve been through quite a lot," the doctor says, his voice calm and measured. His gaze softens as he studies me. "Are you experiencing any pain or discomfort?"

I try to think. The answer is obvious—yes, I am in pain. Everywhere.

Shifting is something my body isn’t meant to do. I haven’t done it in years, not since Damien warned me that it would put me in danger. But last night, I lost control. I broke his rules, and now I’m paying the price. Every muscle in my body aches, a dull, relentless soreness that seems to dig deeper with each passing second.

But the worst part isn’t the muscle pain—it’s the scars. A sharp, crawling itch prickles across my skin, a sensation that borders on pain, as if thousands of invisible insects are burrowing beneath the surface. I fight the urge to scratch, knowing it won’t bring relief.

"Yes," I murmur finally, my voice barely above a whisper. "I just don’t know why..."

It’s a lie.

Oliver said that whatever I’m hiding, Magnus already knows. But I don’t believe it. If Magnus truly knows who I am, then that would mean he’s encountered others like me before—something that makes no sense.

Did he recognize that it was I who shifted last night? I have no way of knowing, and until I hear him say it outright, I won’t risk anyone else finding out.

So, I lie.

"Will you allow me to examine you?" the doctor asks gently, pulling on a pair of white gloves.

A shiver runs down my spine. How many times has my body been "examined" before?

Damien always insisted the tests were necessary—to uncover why I looked the way I did. And I believed him. But what if Ron plans to do the same?

The mere thought of needles piercing my skin, one after another, sends a wave of cold dread washing over me.

Bone-chilling.

"Do you have to do this?" I ask quietly, my voice barely above a whisper. My fingers clutch the blanket a little tighter as I lower my gaze, nerves tightening in my chest.

"I only want to make sure there are no hidden injuries," Ron says gently. "I don’t want you to be unwell, Kaya. My job is to keep every member of this pack healthy and safe—and you are one of my packmates too, aren’t you?"

Packmate.

The word settles strangely in my mind, unfamiliar yet oddly warm. In my first pack, I was a slave. In Dark Wood, I was nothing more than a whore. But here...

A packmate.

It sounds unreal. Too good to believe.

I hesitantly lift my gaze and meet the doctor’s steady hazel eyes. There is no malice in his expression, no hidden cruelty lurking beneath his kind features. Only sincerity.

A packmate. A member of Blood Moon.

And they want me to be happy.