Lethal Temptation

08 (Lucian’s POV) Family Affair

Lucian

My father was a weak man. Spineless, really.

Letting his Luna orchestrate the ruin of two lives just to soothe her own insecurities?

That wasn’t leadership—that was cowardice dressed in politics.

Where does Martha’s manipulation stop?

It was bad enough she turned my father against me—made sure I was never considered fit to be Alpha. But now?

She’s bound me to a girl I barely know, all because she couldn't stomach the idea of Darian marrying someone who wasn’t bred from power or money.

Mara Thornridge and I? We were just casualties of her fear. Collateral damage in her obsession with keeping Darian’s path clean and elite.

When my father dragged me to the Thornridge house, I said what I needed to say. Cold, cruel, calculated—because I needed to understand.

Martha told me the Thornridges requested the union, claimed they believed their daughter was too strong not to be Luna. Claimed they wanted her to take her “rightful place.” Said they had agreed to settle for me instead of Darian.

All of it? Complete bullshit.

Everyone knew Mara had a crush on Darian. It wasn’t some secret scandal. Even Darian knew—he just ignored it. Let it stew. Let her orbit him for years.

A harmless crush, people said. But what that girl gave up for him wasn’t harmless. She left her original path. Signed up at the academy.

Trained harder than anyone expected. Finished second. All for a boy who didn’t have the guts to be honest with her.

At first, even I assumed her ambition was calculated—that finishing second was her power play to get chosen as Luna. But after speaking with her, however awkwardly… I realized how wrong I was.

She didn’t chase power. She chased purpose. And maybe, quietly, she chased hope.

The way she looked at me—guarded, hurt, angry. That wasn’t the gaze of someone who’d schemed her way up. That was someone trying not to drown in something too big for her.

And I hated it.

I hated how Martha had spun this lie and dragged me into it.

I hated how my father let her do it. I hated that Mara—this tough, stubborn, determined girl—was being broken apart by people who claimed to protect the pack.

So when we went back inside, I told the truth.

I was done playing along.

Let the Thornridges hear it all—how this wasn’t about what was best for me or Mara or even Darian. It was about Martha’s ego. About keeping “middle-class blood” away from her precious son.

I almost told Mara that Darian had known. That he could’ve stopped this earlier. But I didn’t. Because she already looked like she was barely holding it together. That truth would’ve shattered her.

But I blame him too.

He knew how she felt. He saw it in her eyes every damn time she looked at him. And instead of setting her free, he kept her close. He strung her along, let her believe maybe… maybe one day.

I heard him brag once—to his friends—that she’d made passes at him. After meeting her, I knew that was a lie.

Mara Thornridge doesn’t beg. She’d rather die than admit she’s vulnerable.

She would’ve made a great Luna.

Not just to Darian—but to the pack.

She’s sharp, strong, and smarter than half the men who outranked her. And instead of letting her shine, Martha decided to bury her. Tie her to me. Punish her for something that never even happened.

And now they expect her to stand at Darian’s side as Gamma? To give her best while living half-alive?

Unbelievable.

No one’s asking what this will do to her.

No one’s thinking about what she’s being forced to give up just to survive.

I didn’t know what to do with Mara.

I didn’t want to touch her. I didn’t want to claim her—not because I hated her, but because I respected her. She didn’t ask for this, and I’m not the kind of man who takes what isn’t given freely.

I wouldn’t mate with her against her will.

I wasn’t like Darian.

He wore his charm like armor and left a trail of wreckage behind him—wolves he used, hearts he broke, girls who wound up pregnant and scared. And every time, Father and Martha cleaned it up quietly, buried the mess, and painted him as the perfect heir.

Looking back now, I saw it all more clearly than I ever had.

Darian—the golden boy, the spoiled prince. Martha’s precious son, her ticket to power, the puppet she dressed up as a leader.

And then there was me.

An accident at the wrong time, the wrong place, gave her everything she needed to destroy me.

The biker didn’t die because of me—not really. My brakes failed. There was silver in the wreckage, and to this day, I still don’t know how it got there.

The biker would’ve survived without it. But no one listened. No one cared. My father didn’t even pretend to investigate. He just... wrote me off.

They said I was drunk, been partying all. Night but that was a lie, yet no one cared.

Martha escalated the fallout like she’d been waiting for it.

And Darian? He got a free pass. Over and over. “They wanted him,” my father would say. “He didn’t stand a chance. Every girl wants the Luna title. It’s not the same.”

It wasn’t the same because Darian was untouchable.

I’d only ever loved one girl. Tina Livingston. I’d been loyal, careful, focused. But now, thanks to Martha, I had to break her heart. Just another name sacrificed on the altar of Darian’s future.

Martha had destroyed three lives. Maybe four, if Mara had someone before all of this—someone she never got to choose.

And yet, I couldn’t even bring myself to hate her. Not fully. She was protecting her son. Ruthless, yes—but my real anger was reserved for the man who allowed her to do it all.

My father. The Alpha. The coward.

If my mother had lived… maybe things would’ve been different. Maybe she would’ve fought for me. For balance. For justice. But she was gone. And in her absence, Martha filled the void with poison and control.

Now here we were.

A forced union. A fake marriage. A girl who didn’t want me, and a pack that would celebrate it anyway like it was some kind of alliance—when in truth, it was just another silent war.

I moved my things into the smaller of the conjoined rooms and fixed up the larger one for Mara. I wanted her to be comfortable. Or at the very least, able to cope.

She wasn’t what I’d accused her of—she wasn’t a gold digger or a social climber. I said those things to provoke, to test, to understand. But now I knew better.

She was nineteen. A kid, really. Brave as hell, smart, and stubborn. And stuck.

Her parents weren’t to blame either. They had no power, no rank, no options. The offer from my father wasn’t an opportunity—it was a threat in disguise.

Because being cast out wasn’t just exile. It was death by slow erasure.

When a wolf is stripped of their pack mark, it fades over time. And once it’s gone, they lose their human form.

They go feral. Wild. Forgotten. That’s what happens to rogues. There’s no mercy in that system, no redemption. A wolf only belongs to one pack in their lifetime. One. And if that bond is broken, there’s no going back.

It was a cruel mechanism, a brutal leash disguised as tradition. One the Alpha family had full control over. And my father wielded it without hesitation.

Mara was a victim. Just like I was.

But unlike me, she didn’t even have the illusion of choice.