The Fake Luna: Marked By The Alpha King

Damian’s POV

The holding cells beneath the east wing were designed for one purpose: to break wolves who needed breaking.

The walls were reinforced steel lined with silver.

The doors were triple-locked. And every breath drawn in here carried traces of wolfsbane—not enough to kill, but enough to weaken even the strongest wolf.

Rick led me down the narrow corridor, past empty cells, until we reached the last one.

And then he stopped.

"He’s in there," Rick said quietly. "And Damian—whatever he says, whatever he does—don’t let him get under your skin."

I didn’t answer. Just nodded for Rick to open the door.

The lock disengaged with a heavy clunk, and the door swung open.

I stepped inside.

The cell was dimly lit, the only light coming from a single bare bulb overhead. And sitting in the center of the room, chained to a chair with silver cuffs, was a man I’d trusted for over a decade.

My Delta. My third-in-command. The wolf responsible for border patrols, hunting parties, and tactical operations.

Garrett Cole.

The air left my lungs in a rush.

Garrett had been with me since he was nine years old. He’d been a war orphan—his entire pack wiped out in a territorial dispute—and I’d taken him in when no one else would.

Trained him. Trusted him. Given him a place in my pack when the rest of the world had abandoned him.

And now he was sitting in front of me, bruised and bloodied, with that same damn tattoo I’d seen on the assassin burned into his forearm.

"Garrett," I said quietly, my voice dangerously calm. "Care to explain?"

He looked up at me, his dark eyes flat and unreadable. "What’s there to explain? You already know what I did."

"I know you betrayed me." I took a step closer, my wolf prowling just beneath my skin. "What I don’t know is why."

Garrett laughed—a sharp, bitter sound that made my teeth grind. "Why? You really want to know why?"

"Yes."

"Because you’re a hypocrite, Damian." He leaned forward as much as the chains would allow, his expression twisted with something I couldn’t name. "You stand there acting like some noble king, like you actually care about the wolves in your pack, but it’s all bullshit. You only care about power. About control."

"That’s not true—"

"Isn’t it?" Garrett’s voice rose. "You took me in, sure. Gave me a place in your pack. But you never saw me as anything more than a tool. A weapon you could use when it suited you."

My control was slipping. "I gave you everything. A home. A family. A purpose."

"You gave me scraps!" Garrett snarled. "And then you expected me to be grateful. To fall in line like every other wolf who worships the ground you walk on."

"So you decided to kill me instead?" My voice was cold now. Deadly. "That was your solution?"

Garrett’s eyes glittered with something dark and ugly. "I decided to stop pretending you were anything other than what you are. A tyrant who hides behind pretty words and calls it leadership."

I took another step forward, my hands curling into fists. "Who’s behind this, Garrett? Who gave you that mark?"

He smiled—slow and vicious. "You think I’m going to tell you? After everything you’ve done?"

"What I’ve done?" I repeated, incredulous. "I saved your life. I gave you a place when no one else would—"

"Don’t act like you did me a favor," Garrett spat. "You didn’t save me out of kindness. You saved me because you needed another soldier. Another body to throw at your enemies."

My wolf was roaring now, demanding blood. Demanding justice.

But I forced myself to stay calm. To stay in control.

"Tell me who’s behind this," I said quietly. "Tell me what that tattoo means."

Garrett just laughed. "You want answers? Then maybe you should ask your father. Ask him what he did thirty years ago. Ask him why so many packs wanted him dead."

Ice slid down my spine. "What are you talking about?"

"You’ll figure it out." Garrett’s smile widened. "Or maybe you won’t. Either way, it doesn’t matter anymore."

Before I could react, before I could even process what he’d said, Garrett bit down hard on something in his mouth.

There was a sickening crunch, and then his eyes rolled back.

"Garrett!" I lunged forward, but it was already too late.

Blood began to pour from his mouth—black and toxic. Wolfsbane. He’d hidden a capsule in his teeth.

Rick was at my side in an instant, trying to pry Garrett’s jaw open, but it was useless.

Within seconds, Garrett’s body went limp.

And just like that, my only lead was gone.

I stood there, staring at his lifeless body, my mind racing.

"What the hell did he mean?" Rick asked quietly. "What did your father do thirty years ago?"

"I don’t know," I said, my voice hollow. "But I’m going to find out."