The Alpha's Unwanted Luna (by Miss L) novel Chapter 252

Chapter 252

13 – Finn

About two hours ago, I finally took over from Greta. It’s the dead of night now, and she’s been generous enough to let me rest for quite a while. Only now does it dawn on me why—she’s an absolute control freak. Seriously, this girl is wound tighter than a spring. I’m going to have to talk to Danny about finding some way to calm her down; she’s way too uptight for her own good. But honestly, that’s not the toughest part of this whole mess. Either these rogues aren’t the ones we’re after and our intel is off, or they’ve caught wind that Rory is investigating them, so they’re playing it cool for the moment. I have no clue why Greta insists on having every single move planned out in bullet points before we do anything. She’s the very definition of analysis paralysis. No matter how stunning she is, her obsessive nature is driving me nuts, and I’ve had more than enough of that kind of crazy to last me a lifetime.

If it were up to me alone, I’d have already done a sweep around the perimeter to get a better sense of their numbers. I know how to mask my scent, and since I’m not officially part of any pack, even if they caught my trail, they probably wouldn’t think twice. But I can’t just leave her side, and I can barely get ten steps away without her pulling me back. For someone who’s supposed to be a skilled, badass warrior, she’s incredibly clingy. It’s like she’s terrified of being alone, though I’m not sure she even realizes it herself. Maybe she’s in denial. Whatever the case, it just cements her place in the crazy box in my mind.

I stand up to get some blood flowing back into my legs when I suddenly hear it—her wolf whimpering softly. I glance over my shoulder to find Greta breathing shallowly, her chest rising and falling in quick, uneven gasps. Maybe she’s running in her dream. Turning my gaze back to the rogues, I see them doing something mundane—cooking a small deer over a fire that seems far too large for the few people gathered around it. Some are hanging clothes on one side of the fire, while the rest simply mill about, doing nothing of note.

“No! Stop! Don’t!” Greta’s voice cuts through the night, sharp and urgent. When did she shift? It doesn’t really matter. She’s not loud, but I need to keep her from raising her voice any further. If the rogues hear us, we’re screwed.

She’s turning her head as if searching for a way out, her eyes squeezed shut, eyebrows furrowed, and lips tight. Her dream must be vivid, intense. I don’t want to scare her, so I stay a few steps back, softly calling her name, trying to soothe her. Her mind needs to believe she’s safe. She whimpers again and thrashes sideways, risking injury on the hard stone floor beneath her.

“Greta!” I whisper-shout, and her eyes snap open. She immediately drops into a crouched stance, scanning her surroundings. She glances past me, still caught in the lucid dream, unable to see me at all.

“I won’t touch you, Greta. I promise. Just take a deep breath. You know me. I need you to wake up, and for the love of the Goddess, stop shouting. We don’t want these rogues finding us.” I take another cautious step closer.

“No!” she yells, darting past me toward the entrance. I don’t try to stop her—maybe some fresh air in the forest will help calm her down. A few yards away, I find her leaning against a tree, breathing heavily.

“Greta,” I whisper, careful not to startle her. “You’re hurt. Can I see? If you’re going to fight these rogues, I need you at one hundred percent.”