Ch. I Refuse to Be Your Luna 148 I Refuse to Be Your Luna 148

Chapter 148 A Concerned Cousin

Alpha Damian’s POV

I followed the ambulance at a respectable distance, keeping my expression arranged into exactly the right shade of worry before I’d even parked.

ཊྛ

Firashed

Harold’s confusion in that hospital bay had been almost too easy to read, every flicker of doubt, every half-formed question, right there on his face for anyone bothering to look.

He’d always worn his thoughts closer to the surface than a future Alpha probably should. Ragnar had spent years trying to train that particular habit out of him and never quite managed it.

“What’s the deal with this guy?” the ER doctor asked, glancing between Harold and the paramedic’s clean bill of vitals with open skepticism.

“Doctor, it was my car that hit him,” I said smoothly, stepping forward before Harold could find his own words. “Could you run an MRI? A full brain scan, if you can manage it. I’d rather know for certain.”

The doctor’s eyebrow climbed. “Hit in the head?”

“Not exactly,” Harold admitted, color rising in his ears.

“Even if not, we can’t be sure,” I said, letting a thread of genuine-sounding urgency into my voice. “I’m his cousin. Please, just do it. I can’t have any doubt about what’s going on in his head.”

The doctor rolled his eyes hard enough that I nearly smiled, but he printed the order anyway, muttering something about family members with more money than sense. I let him think whatever he liked. It worked.

“Cousin Damian, isn’t this a bit much?” Harold asked afterward, looking thoroughly worn down.

I arranged my face into something suitably stern. “Overreacting? Ragnar only has you as a son. This is the bare minimum. Go stand in line, Harold.”

He sighed and shuffled off toward the imaging department, already too tired to argue further, exactly as I’d intended.

Before he’d gone more than a few steps, he turned back, brow furrowed with the first genuinely inconvenient question of the night. “How did you even end up on Azurehill Road tonight? Were you headed somewhere out there?”

I let my mouth curve into something easy and unbothered. “Coming back from a dinner

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engagement. Patrick missed a GPS turn – I gave him an earful for it, and apparently that’s how we ended up clipping your bumper. Bad luck, mostly.”

I watched the doubt drain visibly out of his expression, replaced by something almost sheepish. My wolf, quiet and satisfied beneath my ribs, settled a little further into place. Territory marked.

Message delivered, whether he understood it consciously yet or not. Azurehill Road belonged to something he no longer had any claim to, and every wolf with functioning instincts would eventually feel that boundary even if they couldn’t name it.

“Go on,” I told him. “Get in line before the department clocks out for the night.”

Once he was safely out of earshot, I pulled out my phone.

“Cousin Damian?” Phina’s voice came through soft and immediately alert.

“Phina, can you get down to Civic Hospital? Harold’s had a small accident. Nothing serious, but someone should keep him company.”

“Accident?” Real alarm colored her voice this time. “Is he alright?”

“He’ll be fine. Just waiting on an MRI. My driver missed a turn onto Azurehill Road and clipped his car.” I let the details sit exactly where I wanted them to land. “Come whenever you’re able.”

“I’m coming right now.”

I hung up, satisfaction settling warm and complete through my chest. Where else was Harold going to find a cousin this thoughtful, engineering exactly the right amount of guilt and gratitude in a single phone call.

Phina arrived faster than I expected, already flushed from hurrying, and made a proper fuss over Harold the moment she found him.

I let myself watch just long enough to be sure it had taken, the particular, anxious devotion in her eyes, the way Harold’s shoulders relaxed under it despite himself before I finally excused myself, satisfied the evening had accomplished everything I needed it to.

Patrick was waiting by the entrance, looking considerably more rattled than he had any right to be for a man who’d just earned himself a bonus.

“You did well tonight,” I told him. “Triple pay this month. Consider it a reward.”

He exhaled like he’d been holding his breath for an hour. “Thank you, Alpha Damian. Whatever makes you happy.”

“Head home. I’ve got one more thing to take care of.”

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He didn’t argue, climbing back into the car without a second glance, clearly grateful to put the whole night behind him.

I watched his taillights disappear down the block, then turned back toward the hospital doors, my earlier satisfaction cooling into something sharper, more deliberate.

There was one more piece of tonight I hadn’t accounted for when I set this whole evening in motion, a detail Patrick had mentioned in passing while we waited for the ambulance, low and almost apologetic, like he wasn’t sure it mattered.

Another car had been parked on Azurehill Road tonight. Watching Harold’s building. Long enough, according to Patrick, that its engine had gone cold.

I walked back through the emergency doors with my hands in my pockets and my expression perfectly, deceptively calm, already running through exactly who in this city would have a reason to sit outside Harold’s building in the dark.

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