Alpha King’s Lost Luna by Aubrey Pepper

Chapter 169 Crazy Old Beta
ADALYN
After I nodded in surprise, Father gave me a small gesture of his own and then. disappeared into the mansion. I stood there, frozen for the briefest of moments as my heart pounded heavily in my chest.
What did Father wish to speak to me about?
His tone was as serious as usual, but it lacked the severity I’d come to expect. So, what was the problem? Did this have something to do with Margaret? Or perhaps with Asher or even Silas?
Whatever it was, I knew better than to leave my father waiting, so I leaned down and ran my hand over Marco’s soft hair.
“Let’s get you over to Grandma, baby,” I suggested to the young prince gently. “Grandpa and I have some business we have to attend to.”
Marco’s eyebrow shot skyward, and just as I thought he was about to whine, his expression shifted and he simply smiled a dimpled smile.
“Okay, Mommy,” he said patiently.
I was a little surprised at the lack of argument or whining but didn’t question it. My mind was too preoccupied with whatever Father was about to share with me to worry about Marco’s unexpected behavior.
So, I led him inside the House of Moses. The moment we stepped into the family mansion, the familiar scent of lavender and lemon reached my nose and I let out a soft sigh. Mother had a strong love of candles, particularly ones made in the market of Anemond, and for as long as I could remember, the house always smelled like flowers and citrus.
Mother appeared from the dining room and offered a brilliant smile at Marcus as
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he ran into her arms.
“Oh, my sweet boy!” she greeted him warmly as she squeezed him tightly. Her eyes fell on mine and she gestured toward the stairs with her head.
“Don’t worry, darling, I’ve got him,” she assured me quietly. “Go on up to the study. Your father is waiting.”

“Thanks, Mother,” I replied, and then I turned to Marco. “Have fun, baby.”
When Marco didn’t respond, I let out a small exhale. Now that he was with his grandmother, it didn’t matter, so it was best for me to just go ahead and leave them
be.
My heart raced in my chest as I ascended the stairs toward Father’s study on the third floor. The entire level was Father’s private domain, off limits unless granted express permission.
I remembered once, as a foolish child, I’d daringly climbed up to the third floor to exhibit my courage and intimidate Silas. I’d stood there in the hallway, laughing at my little brother’s reluctance to follow, but my laughter came to a sudden halt when I felt Father’s grip on my shoulder. His hazel eyes had blazed with an unmatched fury, and that night, I’d been denied dinner as punishment.
Even now, my body was trembling with fear as I walked through the silent hallway. The entire third floor exuded a quiet atmosphere. The curtains were drawn and what little light remained came from a few flickering candles. No se rvants were allowed up here, and as I approached the door of Father’s study, the sound of my heels echoed through the corridor.
I took a deep breath as my head swam with anxiety and excitement, and then I knocked on the door.
“Come in,” Father called out promptly, and without hesitation, I opened the door and stepped into the room.
The study appeared far more ordinary than I’d expected. It was small compared to the Alpha King’s, but it was s acious enough to house a large ebony table and
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jet-black leather couches. Just like out in the hallway, the heavy curtains were drawn shut, and lavender candles flickered on the mantle above the fireplace.
Father sat at the table in a tall wingback chair, examining some papers. Silently, he gestured for me to take a seat opposite him.
I swallowed hard, feeling a lump in my throat as I did. I took a seat and then Father raised his piercing eyes from his papers and studied me.
“How are you doing, Adalyn?” he asked me casually. “And Prince Marco, is he
well?”
I nodded in surprise. “Yes, we’re doing quite well. Thank you for asking, Fat
“Of course,” he replied.
Though the conversation was simple enough, I felt awkward. Father and I rarely engaged in small talk. As I observed him closely, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes. He seemed more exhausted than usual, which was strange because for as long as I could remember, he’d never seemed tired even once.
table.
Father cleared his throat and then leaned forward and rested his elbows on the
“Adalyn, how long have you been married to Asher?” he wondered.
“Five years,” I replied, and then I clarified. “Well, five years, two months, and seven days to be precise.”
Father nodded slowly. “I’m sorry, darling, that I never compelled Asher to claim you as his Luna. It’s one of my strongest regrets.”
My eyebrows shot up and the lump in my throat tightened. Father had never apologized to me before, so it wasn’t a sentiment I was familiar with. I was rendered speechless and then he spoke again.
“Tell me, Adalyn, do you desire to be the Luna of the Crescent Pack or Asher’s wife?”
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I was confused, to say the least. “Forgive me for saying so, but those two
options aren’t contradictory, Father. If Asher claimed me, I’d still be his wife, right?”
Father raised a gray eyebrow. “They aren’t contradictory for now, but perhaps soon they might be.”