The Scorned Luna-Chapter 107: In His Apartment

The drive to Alaric’s private estate was silent, filled with the heavy tension of the threats left on Sofia’s wall. When the car finally pulled up to the massive stone house, Sofia felt a lump in her throat. This wasn’t just a house; it was a fortress.

​Alaric led her inside, his hand still firm on her back. As they entered the grand living room, a small figure came running toward them. It was Serene, Alaric’s eight-year-old daughter.

​Sofia braced herself. She expected the girl to be angry or cold, seeing a stranger moving into her home. But as soon as Serene saw Sofia, her eyes lit up with pure joy. She didn’t hesitate—she ran straight to Sofia and wrapped her small arms around her waist in a tight hug.

​"You’re here!" Serene cried out, her voice muffled against Sofia’s dress. "You’re finally here!"

​Sofia froze, her heart racing. She looked down at the little girl, surprised by the warmth of the greeting. She slowly rested her hand on Serene’s hair, feeling a strange wave of affection.

​Alaric watched them, a rare, soft smile breaking through his serious expression. He knelt down so he was at eye level with his daughter.

​"Sweetheart," Alaric said gently. "Sofia will be staying here with us for a few days. Is that okay with you?"

​Serene pulled back just enough to look at her father, then beamed at Sofia. "Yes! She can stay as long as she wants!"

​The little girl’s excitement was infectious, but it also made Sofia uneasy. Why was she so happy to see her?

​"Thank you, Serene," Alaric said, standing back up. "Sofia is very tired and needs to rest."

​"Okay," Serene said, grabbing Sofia’s hand and tugging on it. "I’ll show you around the estate later!"

​Alaric looked at Sofia, his green eyes filled with a mix of relief. "I’ll show you to your room. It’s across the hall from mine."

​As Sofia followed him up the stairs, she couldn’t shake the feeling that Serene didn’t just like her; she recognized her. It was as if the little girl had been waiting for her to come home.

​Alaric showed her the room, a grand space with a massive, comfortable bed. "My room is right across from yours," he said, his voice dropping to a protective hum. He leaned in, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "Rest, Sofia. A maid will bring you dinner." Then, he turned and left, closing the door softly behind him.

​Sofia sat on the edge of the bed, her heart heavy. She looked around the expensive room and made a promise to herself: I won’t stay here long. She decided that as soon as she received her first paycheck from the factory, she would find her own apartment.

​After a warm bath, she changed into a soft silk nightgown. A maid brought her a tray of dinner, and after eating, Sofia lay down, finally letting her eyes close. The stress of the day began to fade as she drifted toward sleep.

​She was fast asleep when she felt a sudden warmth beside her. A large, heavy hand rested on her lap, slowly pulling up the hem of her nightgown. Sofia’s eyes snapped open. She felt hot, hungry kisses being pressed into the curve of her neck. Instantly, she knew the scent. It was Alaric.

​She turned around to find him lying beside her, his green eyes dark with a familiar, burning intensity.

​"Alaric, what are you doing?" she whispered, her voice breathy with surprise.

​He didn’t answer with words. He let out a low moan, continuing to kiss her neck as his fingers trailed higher up her thighs. When he realized she wasn’t wearing any underwear beneath the silk gown, he let out a deep, guttural groan against her skin.

​Sofia frowned, her heart hammering. "Alaric, we are in your home," she hissed, trying to stay focused despite the heat spreading through her. "Your daughter is just downstairs."

​"And?" he murmured, his voice thick with desire. He didn’t stop; instead, he slid a finger inside her, making her breath hitch.

​"We shouldn’t do this," Sofia gasped, her hands bunching into the sheets. "Not here. Not with Serene in the house."

​Alaric pulled back just enough to look her in the eye, his expression raw and almost desperate. "You don’t understand, Sofia," he growled, his thumb tracing her lower lip. "You don’t know how long I’ve waited for this. You don’t know how much I have craved to have you in my home."

​He leaned back in, his kiss more forceful this time, as if he were trying to claim her all over again now that she was under his roof.

​"Alaric, it’s not right... your daughter is right there..." she tried to whisper again, but he effectively shut her up with a kiss that stole her breath. It wasn’t gentle; it was a hungry, desperate claim that tasted of relief and a long-buried hunger.

​He didn’t wait for her to be ready. His fingers were already moving inside her, slick and fast, forcing a response from her body that her mind wasn’t prepared for. Sofia wasn’t in the mood; the trauma of her broken apartment and the heavy conversation with Damien still weighed on her soul. She didn’t want this—not tonight—but she looked into his emerald eyes and saw a man who looked like he had been starving for a lifetime.

​Seeing how much he needed her, she finally gave in, her body going limp before she turned around as he commanded. Alaric didn’t waste a second. He gripped her thighs, lifting them high as he shoved his sweatpants down. He pressed his cock against her entrance, and with one heavy, territorial thrust, he buried himself deep inside her.

​"Fuck, yes..." he groaned into the crook of her neck, his voice a jagged rasp of pure satisfaction.

​He began to move, his pace raw and relentless. He kept his face buried in her hair, inhaling her scent like it was oxygen, his hips slamming into hers with a rhythm that made the headboard rattle against the wall.

​"You feel so good... so fucking good," he growled, his breath hot against her skin. His hands were everywhere, bruising her hips as he pulled her closer, trying to close every inch of space between them.

​Then, his voice dropped to a broken, emotional whisper that made Sofia’s blood run cold.

​"I’ve missed you so much... I’ve missed you so much, Elizabeth."

​The words were thick with a grief that made Sofia go still. As he hammered into her, his movements became more desperate, more passionate, as if he were trying to bring a ghost back to life. Sofia lay there, her eyes wide in the dark, feeling his tears hit her shoulder. She realized with a jolt of horror that he wasn’t just making love to her—he was making love to the memory of the woman who had died five years ago.

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