Page 109 of His Fated Luna

“Yes. We’ve managed to neutralize most of the radiation poisoning. I’m going to keep him here and monitor him closely.”

Most. Not all.

Going to keep him for monitoring.

The weight of it settled on all of us. No one needed to spell it out—this wasn’t over.

That night, I sat with Tanya in her room, reading her a story in hopes she’d finally drift off. Josie refused to leave Dylan’s side and was staying overnight at the clinic. Meanwhile, Aiden was trying to negotiate with the Coventry pack alpha, who wasadamant that Tanya—Tanya!—belonged to his son as a future mate.

The door creaked open, and Aiden stepped into the room. He still hadn’t changed out of his ceremony clothes.

“Is she doing OK?” he asked softly, glancing toward Tanya.

I looked down at her, gently smoothing her curls. “Yeah, she’s asleep now.”

I stood and quietly followed him into the hallway, closing the door behind me.

“How’d your meeting go with the alpha and his son?” I asked as we walked toward our rooms.

“Like pulling teeth,” Aiden muttered. “She’s too young to be taken from her mom. They wanted to take her back with them, raise her under their care, and teach her how to be a proper lady.” Aiden grunted.

“And what did you say?” I asked instantly.

“I only agreed to visitation. I have told the alpha that his son could come see her, not the other way around.” Aiden then added, “She’s seven. Seven. How could anyone look at her and think of mating?” He was fussing over the idea once again.

“Has the alpha agreed to your suggestion?” I asked softly.

“He had to. The alpha was trying to tell me how his son deserves a proper lady and how Tanya needs to learn the rules of British society.” He was incredulous.

“You should’ve told them about Dylan. This isn’t the time for them to push their demands,” I said, my voice tight with disbelief.

“All they know is he’s sick. We haven’t told anyone about…” He lowered his voice. “The poisoning.”

Of course. It made sense. Keep it quiet, let the would-be killer think they’d failed unnoticed. But then it hit me.

“The only person with Dylan at the time was Lexia,” I said slowly, dread pooling in my stomach.

Aiden stopped dead in his tracks, right outside his room. His entire body tensed, eyes hardening into something fierce. He may not be with Lexia anymore, but I could tell—even suspecting her was like crossing a line.

“Stop it... I may not be with Lexia, but I can never believe she did this.” Aiden gave words to his trust for Lexia and left the space.

I wanted to argue. I wanted to tell him things were different now—that Lexia thought he was with me. But I kept my mouth shut. Maybe I was wrong. Still… the more I thought about it, the more it made sense. Even the day his father died, Aiden had smelled like Lexia. If her scent had been near the car, no one would’ve questioned it. No one would’ve thought twice.

I couldn’t sleep. I spent the whole night drowning in thoughts, turning over every clue I had, trying to force the puzzle to come together—but something was missing. What was I not seeing? And then there was the fact that Jake’s parents had shown up at the mating ceremony too. That couldn’t be a coincidence, could it? Maybe they were involved? Maybe…

I shot up in bed after hours of desperate Googling. My fingers were cold, my brain buzzing. Without thinking, I threw off the blanket and padded out of my room, heading down the hall to Aiden’s. I knocked, once, then again—harder. I heard a groan from inside, followed by the rustling of sheets. Finally, I pushed the door open.

“It’s not even four a.m. What are you doing up so early?” Aiden’s voice came from the dark, flustered and groggy.

I was relieved to see he had at least wrapped a sheet around his torso. I stepped in further, breath catching. “Polonium leaves a trace,” I said quickly. “It’s radioactive, so we can trace it. Or at least, try to.”

Aiden sighed, rubbing his face. “The investigator’s on it. I met with him last night.”

I bit my lip, the sting of embarrassment rushing through me. I’d thought I had something important—urgent. Turns out, I was just late to the party.

“Have you slept at all?” he asked, tone hard and sharp now. I could feel his gaze on me, even in the dark of his room.

I hesitated. My eyes burned.