The Concealed Luna

Chapter 7

Early the next morning, Aly rushed to the packhouse, her heart racing with anticipation. She hurried past some Snapdragon pack members, who gave her strange looks, but she ignored them, focused on her destination. She climbed the stairs two at a time and burst into her father's office without knocking. The room fell silent as multiple faces turned to her.

Nathan stood by the large window, his expression serious. The two royal delegates sat in chairs, their faces stern. Alpha Henry stood facing the couch against the wall, where Dr. Smith and Bruce sat, looking guilty.

"Bruce, Dr. Smith?" Aly said, her voice laced with confusion and concern. "What's going on?"

The two people she trusted, aside from her parents, avoided eye contact, their expressions filled with remorse.

"Aly, what are you doing here?" Henry asked, his tall frame blocking her view as he approached her.

"I came to see my parents," Aly replied, her voice firm. "You said I could see them. Where are they?" she demanded, her eyes scanning the room behind him.

"Now is not a good time," Henry said softly, his hands gently but firmly guiding her out of the office, closing the door behind her.

"When will the time be right?" Aly asked, her voice cracking with frustration, tears welling up in her eyes. "What's going on? Why won't anyone tell me anything?" she pleaded, her desperation palpable.

Henry's grip on her shoulders tightened as he tried to calm her down, his voice soft and reassuring. "I know you're worried and confused, but I promise you will know everything soon."

Just as she was about to respond, his eyes glazed over, his gaze unfocusing. Aly recognized the look - a mindlink. She knew he was communicating with someone, but who? And about what?

A few seconds later, Nathan emerged from the office, his expression neutral.

"Take her downstairs," Henry instructed him, his tone firm but gentle.

"But..." Aly tried to protest, her voice rising in objection.

"Trust me, remember?" Henry said, his eyes locking onto hers, his gaze reassuring.

Aly hesitated, then nodded reluctantly. "Okay," she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Nathan gently took her arm, leading her downstairs, his grip supportive but firm.

"Good morning!" Nathan said cheerfully, his tone a stark contrast to Aly's evident frustration. Aly looked at him unimpressed, her expression unreadable. "Right," Nathan continued, undeterred. "Did you have breakfast?" he asked, his eyes sparkling with concern as he led her to the kitchen.

Aly shook her head, her silence speaking volumes.

"Take a seat," Nathan said gently, leading her to a barstool, his hand guiding her with a gentle touch.

He bustled around the kitchen, expertly plating her food with a flourish. The generous serving included waffles, eggs, bacon, sausages, and fresh fruit, which he presented to her with a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice. "Bon appétit!" he said, beaming with a warm smile.

Aly's eyes widened as she took in the spread, her gaze darting back to Nathan. "Uhm, this is a lot of food for me," she protested, her voice laced with amusement.

Nathan chuckled, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Don't worry, I'll help you," he said, snatching a piece of crispy bacon from her plate, his fingers brushing against hers.

"And I don't drink orange juice. It makes me sick," she added, her tone matter-of-fact.

Nathan's expression turned apologetic as he quickly removed the glass of orange juice from her sight. "Okay, no problem! What kind of juice do you like?" he asked, his eyes scanning the fridge's contents.