The Wolfless Contract Luna (Grace and Ethan) novel Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Alpha Storms In**

**Grace POV**

The image of Ethan’s face from last night is seared into my memory—the way he stood tall, his features set in a firm expression as he vowed to help me.

Just one night had passed, and he actually followed through.

Before me, a messenger stands resolutely, delivering the Council’s orders to Damien. I am summoned to headquarters without delay.

A surge of joy erupts within me, sudden and fierce, so much so that it steals my breath away.

For the first time in five long years, someone has kept a promise to me. Someone has taken action. Someone cares enough to make a difference.

The relief washes over me, so overwhelming that my knees threaten to buckle beneath me, and my eyes sting with tears I refuse to shed.

I am getting out. I am truly getting out.

I can see the color drain from Damien’s face as he processes this news. He attempts to question the messenger, to probe for more information, but the messenger cuts him off with an icy formality, citing the Head Elder’s direct orders.

I watch as Damien’s jaw tightens, his forced smile failing to mask the storm brewing beneath the surface. He feigns concern for his mate, but I can see through the facade.

Satisfaction floods through me, hot and vicious, igniting a flame of triumph within.

He’s scared. For the first time, I can sense the fear radiating from him.

He’s losing control. Losing his grip on me. And he knows it.

The messenger instructs me to gather my belongings, and though Lilith tries to interfere, I swiftly shut her down. The messenger then commands the Omegas to assist their Luna.

Finally, someone sees me. Finally, someone acknowledges that I am still Luna here.

That validation burns away some of the humiliation I’ve endured. The shame I’ve carried for five years—of being invisible, dismissed, erased—suddenly feels lighter as someone treats me like I matter.

But then, Damien exchanges a glance with Beta Luka—brief, loaded, and filled with unspoken plans.

Luka melts away into the shadows.

My joy fractures, and a chill runs down my spine.

No. No, what are they planning?

My hands tremble as I pull my father’s signet ring from its hiding place.

The gold is heavy, engraved with the crest of Aurorawisp. I slip it onto my finger, and the weight feels like armor—a reminder that I am someone’s daughter, someone who mattered.

Relief and terror crash over me in waves so violent that I have to grip the dresser to keep from collapsing.

A shadow moves outside my window. Lori.

I dismiss the Omegas, and he slips through, landing silently. “Luna Grace. Something’s wrong.”

The joy I felt moments ago dies instantly.

He speaks quickly, urgency lacing his words—he saw Beta Luka talking to the messenger. Two minutes of quiet conversation, then the messenger got in his car and drove away.

Left?

My mind struggles to process it. The word feels foreign, alien.

Betrayal crashes over me—cold, devastating, crushing the fragile hope I had dared to feel.

They bought him off. Damien bought off the Council messenger.

Of course he did. Of course.

Panic claws up my throat, and my chest tightens until I can hardly breathe. The walls feel as though they are closing in around me.

I am trapped. Still trapped. Always trapped—

“Fuck.”

The word escapes me, raw and defeated.

My hands tremble so violently that I can barely think. The ring on my finger now feels like a mocking reminder of a legacy I am too weak to reclaim.

No. Stop. Think.

I force myself to breathe, to push the panic down even as it tears at my insides.

“Stay here,” I instruct Lori, my voice steadier than I feel. “Gather evidence. Anything that proves Damien and Lilith’s affair.”

“And you?”

“I’m still leaving. Tonight.” The words taste like desperation, like madness. “Even if I have to walk to Council headquarters myself.”

I refuse to spend another night in this prison. I will not give Damien another chance to lock me away.

I grab my bags and head downstairs, my heart hammering in my chest, panic coursing through my veins like wildfire.

The garage is empty except for one Omega mechanic.

“I need a car.”

He won’t meet my eyes, mumbling about the Alpha’s orders and maintenance issues.

He’s blocked every exit.

My hands clench into fists, nails digging into my palms.

“Grace.”

His voice sends a shiver down my spine.

I turn to see Damien standing there, holding my bags, a smile on his lips that lacks any warmth.

Terror floods through me—cold and absolute.

He tells me the messenger has left. There’s been a timing confusion. One more night.

No. No—

His hand closes tightly around my wrist, a grip that feels bruising. Pain shoots up my arm as I try to pull away, but his hold only tightens, grinding my bones together.

Did I really think he would let me walk away?

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