The Alpha's Stolen Luna-Chapter 113: Before and After

Kaya

The world has been divided into before and after.

The world before I met Damien. The world after I met Magnus.

And I can’t really tell which world I want to live in. Not anymore.

My eyelids are so heavy. Every time I try to peel them open, a sharp wave of pain seizes me, tugging at every muscle, stretching my body as if it might snap apart.

I always thought drugs were meant to dull pain, to numb the body and cloud the mind. Whatever they’re giving me does the opposite—it sharpens everything until I feel raw and exposed.

And yet, a part of me doesn’t mind. Staying alert means I can think about Magnus. Honestly, it’s all I do.

I think about the way he wrapped me in his shirt the first time we met, carrying me toward his car as if I weighed nothing. I think about how he humbled me in our first sparring match, forcing me to face myself.

I think about the way he kissed me. The way his voice broke when he told me I was his mate.

I think about him. Always him. And even though the thought of him aches like an open wound, there’s relief in the pain. I would rather hurt like this forever than forget him. He is my mate. My home. My everything.

Even if he never accepts me. Even if... we never see each other again.

A wince escapes me as a cold, calloused palm brushes across my forehead, smoothing damp hair back. A strong herbal scent fills my lungs, grounding me, and I know it’s her again—the old witch. She comes every two hours. I know because her visits are all I have to measure the time.

"When will you stop pretending?" she asks softly, her voice neither cruel nor impatient. That, more than anything, makes me sigh in relief.

"I’m tired," I murmur, though it comes out more like a low, irritable grumble than simple words.

"Silly girl." The witch clicks her tongue and presses something sweet against my lips. "Eat it—it’s just candy. I promise."

I frown, my mouth tightening into a stubborn line. "They teach you not to take candy from strangers."

She scoffs at that, her amusement low and sharp. "Strangers? Hardly. I’ve been changing your clothes and cleaning you up like a baby every single day—that should count for something."

A weak laugh escapes me, and with effort, I peel my eyes open, though it’s the only movement I allow myself. My body feels sluggish, every muscle aching, and even smiling requires strength I barely have.

"You seem... like a nice person," I murmur after a stretch of silence, watching the way the lamplight throws restless shadows across the ceiling of my cage. "So why help a monster like him?"

I hadn’t expected a real answer. Still, the silence that follows unsettles me more than I care to admit. My words had been meant to cut, to provoke—but now that they’ve struck, guilt coils in my chest like a snake.

"Sorry," I whisper at last, straining to turn my head toward her. "Maybe you’re not so nice after all. I’ve been wrong about people before."

A sudden chuckle slices through the air, brittle and unexpected, like a sheet of paper being torn from its file. I blink, focusing on her face—and my breath catches. She’s laughing, but her cheeks are streaked with tears.

"What would you do to save someone you love?" she asks finally, her laughter vanishing, her voice cold enough to freeze the air between us.

The question baffles me, and before I can stop myself, my thoughts drift back to Magnus. At first, I believed I was drawn to him only because of the mating bond—but that wasn’t the truth.

I fell in love the moment I saw him. I fell in love with the sadness hidden in those hauntingly beautiful eyes. I fell in love with the way he made me feel safe in a world that had only ever hurt me.

I love him. And I would do anything for him.

"This is what I am doing, too," the witch says suddenly, as if she has reached inside my chest and plucked the thought straight from my heart. I blink at her, stunned, but she doesn’t seem to care about my reaction. "I am doing this because I want to save my daughter."

Her words rob me of speech. My thoughts, sharp only moments ago, dissolve into a heavy fog, leaving me numb and unsettled. Save her daughter? How could helping Damien carry out his vile plan ever save anyone?

"What happened to your daughter?" I manage to ask at last, my voice soft, careful not to push too hard too soon.

The witch remains silent for a long time, as if testing how long I will wait, or perhaps struggling to find words that will not betray her completely. When she finally does speak, her voice trembles with such raw heartbreak that pity grips my chest like a vice.

"Do you know what he plans to do with all the women he has taken?"

I shake my head, the movement sending a fresh bolt of pain through me. Speaking feels wrong right now.

"He will release them," the witch says, her voice low but steady. Yet the promise that should sound like freedom feels like a death sentence instead. "He will let them return to their mates and then... he will kill them. The moment they receive a claiming mark, they’ll die."

"What...?" My voice cracks as I push myself up on my elbows, ignoring the strain in my body. My mind blanks, refusing to process the words. It can’t be true. But as the meaning settles, dread churns into fury, and I feel my whole body trembling—part rage, part disbelief.

"I thought... kidnapping the females was just a diversion. A way to distract everyone from his real plan?"

The witch shakes her head, fat tears sliding down her cheeks and soaking into the coarse wool of her pants. "Can you imagine what will happen to the males when their mates die in their arms? You were right, Miss Kaya—he is a monster. And that monster... has my daughter."

"Your daughter?" The words stumble from me, my chest tightening. "But why? I thought he only needed the wolves?"

Her face drains of all color, and when her hollow eyes lock with mine, something cold ripples through me, shaking me down to the bone.

"This can’t be..." My whisper sounds like someone else’s voice, fragile and breaking. "I never questioned it because I believed Damien didn’t have a mate. But now... Goddess." My heart plummets as the pieces click together. "Serena... your daughter—is she Damien’s mate?"