Alpha King Chases Abandoned Luna novel Chapter 343

(Ethan's POV)

The world around me crumbled into dust. Every certainty I'd built my life upon disintegrated in an instant.

"Orange Mom?" The words escaped my lips before I could stop them, barely a whisper.

Evelyn Winters—the woman who had saved me, comforted me, protected me when I was at my most vulnerable—stood before me. Her eyes, so like Olivia's, held none of the warmth I remembered from my childhood.

"Ethan Stone, don't call me that," she said, her voice cutting through me like a silver blade. "You are not worthy!"

Each word was a physical blow. My wolf whined pitifully beneath my skin, recognizing the truth even as I struggled to process it.

"But you..." I couldn't form coherent thoughts. Memories flooded back—nights spent in her small cottage, trembling from nightmares, her gentle hands stroking my hair as she sang that lullaby.

"I saved your life once," Evelyn continued, her voice cold with contempt. "And how did you repay me? By destroying my daughter's."

My chest constricted painfully. The contrast between the motherly warmth in my memories and her current indifference was unbearable.

"I promised..." I whispered, more to myself than to her. "I promised to protect you both."

The vow I'd made as a child echoed in my mind: to cherish and protect my Orange Mom and Little Orange. To love, mark, and spoil her for a lifetime.

But I had failed. Catastrophically.

My gaze shifted to Olivia—my true Little Orange—standing beside her mother, her emerald eyes filled with hatred. The scent of sunshine and citrus that had always drawn me to her suddenly made perfect sense.

All these years, I had mistaken Victoria for my Little Orange. The magnitude of my error crushed me like a physical weight.

Memories assaulted me in rapid succession. Every time Victoria had come to me crying about Olivia. Every time I'd sided with her without question. Every time I'd dismissed Olivia's pain, her explanations, her pleas.

My wolf had been conditioned to believe that Little Orange was the best she-wolf in the world. That she could do no wrong.

"She can't be lying," I'd told myself countless times. "Little Orange would never lie to me."

But it wasn't Victoria I'd been protecting. It was an illusion. A carefully crafted deception.

And because of that blind faith, I had hurt Olivia. Repeatedly. Cruelly.

The pain was overwhelming—so intense it felt like I was suffocating. My wolf paced anxiously beneath my skin, desperate to howl its anguish.

I had failed the woman who saved my life. I had failed her daughter—my true mate, my true Little Orange.

I had failed our daughter, Lily.

The thought of Lily sent a fresh wave of agony through me. Our beautiful daughter, who had died while I was busy pampering Victoria and Emma. Who had spent her final days asking for a father who never came.

Slowly, I turned to look at Olivia again. The she-wolf I had always been drawn to, even as I tried to suppress those feelings out of misplaced loyalty to my supposed Little Orange.

Now, understanding that Olivia was the true Little Orange all along, all the emotions I'd kept locked away surged to the surface. My amber eyes gazed at her with deep, unrestrained affection, my wolf yearning to connect with its true mate.

But I was met with icy hatred. Her emerald eyes, once so full of love for me, now held nothing but contempt.

This coldness wasn't unfamiliar—ever since Lily's death, Olivia had looked at me this way—but never had it cut so deeply. The chasm between us felt insurmountable.

I was paralyzed by the weight of the distance between us and the pain of my failures. My wolf whimpered with shared grief.