The Alpha's Secret Fake Rogue Luna

Seraphina POV

The sharp clink of crystal against glass shattered the heavy silence of the study. Damien didn't just pour the amber liquid; he drowned his glass in it. He downed the whiskey in one brutal swallow, his throat working as he immediately reached to pour another.

He was drinking like a man trying to poison a monster inside him. I watched from the edge of the sofa, realizing he was desperately trying to numb his inner wolf, Kael, who was undoubtedly clawing at his mind under the crushing weight of his impending public reunion with Chloe.

He moved back to the sofa, steps heavy with dangerous grace. As he sank into the leather, a metallic clink sounded. A silver cufflink, engraved with the Blackwood crest, had slipped into the crevice between his thigh and the armrest.

He stared at the gap for a moment, his alcohol-laced gaze sluggish. Then, he looked at me.

"Get that for me," he commanded, his voice a low, unquestionable rumble.

I hesitated. Defying an Alpha over a dropped cufflink seemed foolish. I stood and approached. To reach it, I had to lean directly over his lap.

As I bent down, the air vanished from my lungs. I was enveloped in his scent—cedar, whiskey, and the raw musk of a dominant Alpha. My trembling fingers brushed against the hard muscle of his thigh.

Then I felt the heat of his breath against the sensitive skin of my neck.

"Careful," Damien whispered, his voice soaked in whiskey and a dark, predatory gravel. "My wolf might think you're offering yourself to him."

I went rigid. I snatched the cufflink and threw myself backward, pulse roaring. I placed it on the coffee table, hands shaking.

"I should go," I breathed out.

"Your scent..." Damien's voice caught me before I could reach the handle. It wasn't a command this time. It was a rough, almost vulnerable rasp. "...it soothes the beast."

I froze, pretending I hadn't heard the raw desperation in his words. As I averted my gaze, my eyes landed on a delicate wooden frame resting on the middle shelf of his towering bookcase.

It was a photograph from a Pack gala years ago. Damien stood tall and proud, his arm wrapped possessively around a stunningly beautiful woman—Chloe Richmond. But what stole my breath was Damien's eyes. They were warm, alive, and filled with a profound adoration that was entirely absent from the cold, ruthless Alpha standing in this room today.

The pieces clicked together with devastating clarity. The erratic behavior, the heavy drinking, the obsessive need to humiliate her—it was all born from the agonizing, soul-shredding pain of a rejected mate.

Behind me, the floorboards creaked. Damien had pushed himself up from the sofa, swaying slightly as he headed straight back to the home bar. His hand reached for the neck of the crystal decanter again.

A fierce, unexpected war waged inside me. Every survival instinct screamed at me to run, to leave this volatile, broken man to his misery. But looking at him, I remembered the hollow, suffocating agony of being betrayed by the people who were supposed to love you. And practically speaking, I needed a strong, sober Alpha to protect me at tomorrow's Gala, not a drunken wreck.

Before I could talk myself out of it, I crossed the room. Just as his fingers curled around the glass, I slammed my hand over his wrist.

Damien went entirely still. Slowly, he turned his head. His gray eyes were chips of ice, blazing with the lethal, offended fury of an Alpha being challenged.

"Are you giving me an order, Rogue?" he growled, the sound vibrating in his chest.

I didn't flinch. I met his furious gaze, keeping my voice steady and devoid of any challenge or desire. "You need water and coffee, Alpha. Tomorrow, you need to be sober for your people."

For a terrifying second, I thought he might snap my neck. But as he stared into my eyes, the violent storm in his gaze flickered. The feral tension bleeding from his muscles told me his wolf, Kael, had inexplicably settled at my touch.

A dark, mocking smirk touched his lips, though the fight had left him. "Yes, mom."

He didn't shake off my hand. Taking a deep breath, I gently pulled him away from the bar, guiding the most powerful Alpha in the region toward the small, private kitchenette tucked in the corner of the study.