Coming Back as Enemy's Luna

41. FAVOR

= Amara =

From where I sat, I watched Mikael deal with the aftermath of the chaos I had caused. His voice carried across the arena—calm, controlled, edged with authority—as he spoke to the gamma and the vendors one by one. It didn’t take long. A few firm words, a promise that this kind of disruption wouldn’t happen again, and the situation was neatly folded back into order, as if nothing had ever gone wrong.

Slowly, the crowd began to thin. One by one, people drifted away from the arena, their murmurs fading into the open air. Yet even as they left, I caught the looks they cast over their shoulders—expressions tangled with disappointment and curiosity.

I couldn’t tell who they were disappointed in.

Me… or Mikael.

“All done now, Miss Amara.”

Caryl’s voice pulled me out of my thoughts. I blinked and realized she had finished tending to my wounds. Clean bandages wrapped my skin where it had been split open earlier, the sting dulled but not gone.

“Thank you,” I said, offering her a small smile.

She returned it easily, already closing the first-aid kit and packing everything away with practiced efficiency. I hadn’t even noticed when she’d brought it out in the first place.

We stood at the same time, the moment oddly synchronized. Just as I straightened, Mikael approached with the vendors trailing behind him. The tension in the air shifted immediately—quieter now, heavier.

I glanced at him, half-expecting a reprimand. A lecture. Something. After all, he had just cleaned up a mess that was undeniably mine.

But Mikael said nothing.

No comment about the fight. No warning. No disappointment laid bare in words.

“Father!”

Caryl hurried toward the vendors, specifically toward the older man in the middle the moment she spotted him. Relief softened her features as she reached his side, and the tension I hadn’t realized was still clinging to the space finally began to ease.

The vendors noticed me then.

One by one, their attention shifted, and before I could step back or slip away unnoticed, they were already moving toward me.

“Thank you again for what you did, Miss Amara,” the man beside Caryl—her father—said quietly. He reached for my hands without hesitation, his grip firm but respectful, and gave them a grateful shake. When he looked up, his eyes were shining with something painfully sincere.

“Those Gammas… they come around far too often, especially when they have nothing better to do. We tried to stand our ground. Truly, we did. But they wouldn’t stop.” His voice wavered. “If it hadn’t been for you—”

I gently withdrew my hands before the weight of his words could settle too deeply.

“There’s nothing to thank me for, sir,” I said, keeping my voice even. “Protecting the members of the pack is my responsibility.”

He studied me for a second, as if measuring whether I truly believed what I’d said. Then his shoulders eased, and he nodded slowly.

“Still,” he murmured, “thank you.”

The other two vendors echoed his gratitude, each of them offering quiet words and small bows of respect. Their voices blended together, simple and earnest, and something unfamiliar stirred in my chest.

Warmth.

Hope.

My heart swelled in a way I wasn’t used to—too full, too vulnerable. This kind of appreciation was rare. Especially in this place. It was the sort of feeling that could soften edges I’d worked hard to keep sharp.

And I knew better than to get used to it.

“You’re welcome,” I replied simply, giving them a small nod before stepping back.

“How about this, Amara,” Cary’s father said suddenly, his voice brightening as though he’d just arrived at the perfect solution. “As a way of returning the favor, I’ll allow my daughter to serve you.”

I blinked.

“I heard you don’t have a personal assistant yet,” he continued, clearly warming to the idea. “She can help you with anything you need. House matters, errands—she’s capable. Very capable.”

The words landed heavier than they should have.

A flicker of awe passed through me at the boldness of his offer, but it was quickly followed by something else—unease. The suggestion felt abrupt, almost too eager. Why was he suddenly so intent on placing his daughter at my side?

“Uh… there’s really no need for—” I started, instinctively reaching for a polite refusal.

“Really, Father?” Caryl cut in before I could finish. Her eyes lit up, excitement spilling across her face. “You’d really allow me to do that?”

And just like that, the uneasiness in my chest softened.

Her reaction was genuine—unfiltered joy, not ambition. It eased something tight inside me, washing away the suspicion I’d been nursing moments ago.

“Of course,” her father replied, smiling warmly at her before turning back to me. “Miss Amara, please accept this as our way of repaying you for standing up for us earlier.”

He inclined his head slightly, the gesture respectful. “My daughter has always wanted to serve within the inner circle of the pack. So, if it’s not too much to ask… would you consider accepting her as your assistant?”

My lips parted, words failing me for a heartbeat.

Of course, I wanted to say yes. I genuinely did. Caryl was kind, eager, and clearly sincere. Meeting her earlier and I feel light.

But that decision wasn’t mine to make.

Almost without thinking, I turned my head to the side.

Mikael stood there, silent and observant, his gaze fixed on us with an expression that revealed nothing and everything all at once.

Caryl’s father froze.

So did the others.

It was as if they’d all collectively remembered, far too late, that Mikael had been with us the entire time. The moment they found his eyes, realization dawned—sharp and immediate.