Trapped in a Novel as the D-Class Alpha I Hated Most-Chapter 96: Why Is He Acting Like This?

Moon’s lips brush the shell of my ear, a terrifying intimacy. His breath is a warm, deliberate brand against my skin.

"Hmm, Zyren?"

His voice is a low purr, a predator playing with its catch.

I stay silent, my body a live wire of tension. I struggle against the cage of his arms, but it’s useless.

My strength, even at its peak, is a feeble breeze against the granite wall of his S-Class Alpha physique.

I am utterly, humiliatingly weak in his grip.

He murmurs again, the vibration skating down my spine.

"Give me an answer."

My hands scrabble against his forearm, a futile protest. "It’s none of your business!"

The anger in my voice is sharp, but it’s laced with a thread of something else—panic.

He smiles; I can feel the curve of his lips against my ear. His breath, his mouth, are too close.

God, where am I trapped?

Then, he does it. A slow, deliberate swipe of his tongue against the sensitive curve of my ear.

I jerk violently, a full-body convulsion of shock and revulsion.

"What the HELL are you doing?!"

He ignores me, inhaling deeply. His nose brushes through the strands of my silver hair at the nape of my neck.

"Zyren..." he murmurs into my hair, his voice thick with a strange, intoxicating discovery.

"This isn’t your scent. It’s... fresh red rose. Clinging to you."

I try to wrench my head away, but his other hand comes up, cupping my jaw, his fingers squeezing my cheeks.

He cages me completely, front and back.

"It’s not an Omega’s scent," he states, his analysis cold and clinical despite the heat of his body.

"Moon," I gasp, my voice strained.

"What the hell do you want?"

His smile against my skin isn’t polite anymore. It’s an angry, possessive smirk.

He nips my earlobe, a sharp, warning bite that makes me jerk again with a sharp cry. Then he soothes the sting with a soft, apologetic lick that is infinitely worse.

"I want answers."

I look down, defeated, trapped.

Why is he acting like this?

So possessive, so unhinged?

I’m not his lover. I’m not his anything.

But he’s holding me like I’m a prized possession that’s been tainted by another’s touch.

"Be a good boy," he whispers, his lips still moving against my ear.

My fists clench. I have no choice. If I want to be free of this, I have to give him something.

The truth—or a version of it sharp enough to cut through his obsession.

"Angel..." I force the words out, my voice tight.

"Angel was my caretaker."

Moon goes still. His head pulls back slightly.

"Caretaker?"

The word is flat, disbelieving.

I nod, the movement small against his hand.

"Yes."

His grip loosens, just a fraction. It’s all I need. I explode from his hold, stumbling back and whirling to face him, putting the width of a Persian rug between us.

My chest heaves.

His blue eyes are fixed on me, sharp and searching.

"Angel gave me the warmth of a family when my own left me alone in this... this gilded cage."

The words start to flow, fueled by a real, rising hurt that has nothing to do with Moon and everything to do with the lonely boy Zyren was—the part of him I now feel inside me.

"That’s why he’s special. I just want to give him a good life. I have no other intentions."

I look away, my voice dropping.

"I respect him. Like family. So, stop throwing your... your filthy assumptions at me."

Moon’s expression changes. The predatory smirk is gone, replaced by a silent, intense scrutiny.

He just stares.

I meet his gaze head-on, letting him see the truth behind my eyes—unfiltered, raw, and aching.

"I know I’m a D-Class Alpha," I say, my voice tight, trembling just slightly.

"But that doesn’t make me a monster. I’m still... a person."

I swallow hard, the words catching in my throat.

"Or am I not? Am I just... cruel and heartless, the way you think I am, Mr. Moon?"

My voice cracks on the last word.

He remains silent, a statue absorbing a shockwave.

I take a shuddering breath, the fever and the emotional whiplash making my head swim.

"Now. I’ve given you your answer. Are you happy?"

He blinks, slowly. "I’ve never seen this ’caretaker’ before."

"He’s the orphan Omega the Kael family took from the church," I explain, the story from the novel now a fragile shield.

"He was young... and he always cared for me, like a big brother."

I have to stop. I didn’t plan this. I didn’t mean for the emotions to well up so fully, so violently—from the lonely, abandoned core of Neon’s soul, not just Zyren’s past.

The tears come anyway, a hot, traitorous flood I can’t hold back. I look away, breaking the devastating eye contact, shamed by how easily I’ve betrayed my heart.

Moon’s eyes widen a fraction. He sees the tears glittering on my lashes, tracing paths down my flushed cheeks.

"And especially..." I choke out, the words raw, "he didn’t abandon me. Like everyone else did."

The dam breaks.

"When everyone found out I was just a D-Class Alpha—not an Omega, not an S-Class, just a disappointment—they all changed. Everyone. But not him. He still loved me. He still treated me like I was something precious."

My gaze lifts, locking with his once more, letting him see the ocean of loneliness in that statement.

"So, I won’t bear it. If anyone is ever rude to him, I won’t bear it."

I turn before the sob can escape. A tear slips free, tracing a hot path down my fever-warm cheek. I turn on my heel, dignity in tatters, and walk.

I need to get out.

Now.

The world tilts. A wave of dizzying weakness crashes over me.

Why is everything shaking?

Why are the opulent rugs, the gilded frames, all blurring into a nauseating watercolor?

My legs buckle. The ground rushes up.

It doesn’t meet me.

Strong arms catch me, a careful, swift cradle.

My vision swims, focusing for a second on his face, now stripped of all arrogance, etched with genuine, stark worry.

"Are you okay...?"

His voice sounds distant, muffled by the roaring in my ears.

My eyes, heavy as stones, drift shut.

The world—the mansion, the scent of amber wood, the troubling blue of his eyes—fades into a quiet, welcoming nothing.