The Alpha's Stolen Luna
Chapter 28: Hunger

Chapter 28: Hunger

Kaya

My conversation with Shelly leaves my mind in shambles. As if it weren’t enough that our former alpha abandoned us, we’re now expected to assimilate—not just into any pack, but Blood Moon itself.

Two weak, broken women like us... We have no place here. And yet, here we are.

She wants to get rid of her baby.

The thought loops through my mind, tightening into a suffocating knot of unease. I can’t even begin to imagine the methods Shelly might resort to in order to make it happen. The mere idea sends a shudder down my spine.

Lost in my spiraling thoughts, I barely register how my feet carry me back to the alpha’s floor. My steps are slow, unhurried, my surroundings a blur.

The hallway stretches ahead, dimly lit and eerily silent. Shadows creep along the walls, the oppressive gloom pressing in from all sides.

It suits him.

I stop in front of Magnus’s door, my hand hovering over the doorknob—only to be startled by a low, insistent growl.

It takes me a moment to realize the sound isn’t coming from some lurking predator. It’s my stomach.

A dull ache pulses in my abdomen, a stark reminder of how long it’s been since I last ate. More than a day, at least. My body has endured too much already, and now it’s demanding the nourishment I’ve been denying it.

I recall Oliver’s earlier offer to send food to my room, but the thought of a grim-faced gamma delivering a tray to me makes my stomach twist for an entirely different reason.

What would they think of me?

Of course, even here, you’re the Alpha’s favorite.

Shelly’s sharp remark lingers in the back of my mind, curling around my thoughts like a poisonous vine. My lips twist in disgust.

Back in Dark Wood, I had loved being the Alpha’s favorite. I wore the title like a badge of honor, convinced that the others were simply jealous—that their sneering, resentful whispers were nothing more than envy. To me, it was sacred. My life may have amounted to nothing, but when Damien called me his favorite, it felt like that was all I needed to be.

Now, I despise it. And I refuse to let anyone call me that again.

"Kaya."

I flinch at the sound of an all-too-familiar voice.

Oliver strides toward me with his usual effortless confidence, his smile warm and unbothered, cutting through the cold weight of my thoughts.

"Beta Oliver," I manage to say, nearly stumbling over my words.

His smile deepens as he runs a hand through his short hair, a touch of awkwardness in the gesture. "Just Oliver," he corrects, his tall frame casting a shadow over me as he closes the distance between us.

His gaze flickers with curiosity. "I see you’re returning from somewhere. Where did you go?"

I hesitate, my fingers curling into my palms. I know I’m allowed to leave my room, but wandering around this house unaccompanied still feels... wrong. As if I don’t belong.

"I... went to check on my friend," I finally answer, forcing myself to meet his eyes. "I was worried about her."

"Oh." Oliver nods thoughtfully, scratching his chin. "She got quite a fright last night, didn’t she? So shaken that she’s still wary of everyone. She wouldn’t let anyone in—not even the women. I’m glad she was willing to talk to you, though."

He pauses, his gaze steady and unreadable. I take a small step back, uneasy. Oliver has a habit of holding eye contact a little too long, and I brace myself, fearing he might start asking difficult questions—questions I don’t have answers to.

"How is she doing?" he finally asks.

I exhale softly, relieved. Really, I don’t know what I was expecting.

"Did she ask for anything?"

"No," I shake my head quickly, trying to sound as natural as possible. "She’s alright. Just... overwhelmed by all of this. She needs time to adjust, but she’ll get used to it."

"I see," Oliver murmurs, his voice dipping lower, as if weighing my words. "She hasn’t eaten anything. Do you think she’d feel better if you were the one bringing food to her room?"

I nod eagerly, hoping this will put an end to the conversation. "Yes! I can do that. I’m sure she’ll appreciate it."

But before I can take my leave, his gaze sharpens slightly. "What about you?"

I blink. "Me?"

"Aren’t you hungry?"

"No—no! That’s alright. I don’t think I––"

Before I can finish my excuse, my traitorous stomach lets out a loud, grumbling protest. The sound is impossible to ignore.

Oliver’s thick eyebrows lift in amusement before his features soften, and then, to my horror, he bursts into laughter.

"As much as you want to deny it, our bodies always betray the truth." Oliver’s voice carries a teasing edge, though there’s warmth in his gaze. "Come on, let’s head down to the kitchen. The chef is already serving breakfast."

"The kitchen?" I freeze, my feet rooted to the spot.

Oliver nods, his expression open and unbothered, as if he doesn’t notice my hesitation. "Training just ended. Everyone is gathering for breakfast."

Everyone...

The word slips from my lips in a whisper, my fingers curling into tight fists, nails biting into my palms.

"Since you’re already out and about, I figured this would be a good chance to introduce you to everyone." He shrugs casually, then adds, "Besides, Alpha Magnus made me promise I’d do it anyway. At least, to try to."

He flashes another warm smile, and though my lips twitch, wanting to return the gesture out of sheer reflex, the rest of my body remains frozen in place.

I am starving. And the only way to get food is to eat with the rest of the pack.

They can’t serve me—I won’t let them. I told myself I wouldn’t be the alpha’s favorite anymore.

So I draw in a slow breath, steadying myself as if preparing for battle. My pulse pounds in my ears, but I force my head into a nod.

"Alright," I say, my voice firmer than I feel. "Let’s... let’s do that."