Chapter 4: His Wife Danced with His Uncle

Just as I was about to explain, Grant Whitaker stormed furiously into the middle of the dance floor.

"I want to see who dares to dance with my Luna here!" he shouted, marching straight up to Spencer Whitaker. He forcefully grabbed the shoulder of the man standing in front of me.

Startled by his rough actions, I flinched.

But in the next moment, Grant froze. His movements halted midair as his eyes locked onto Spencer Whitaker's face. He stood there as if struck by lightning. His complexion turned ashen, his eyes filled with fear, and he stumbled backward, nearly dropping to his knees.

"Uncle... Spencer, Uncle Spencer," Grant stammered, quickly releasing his grip. His voice trembled, and he bowed his head in a hurried apology. "I didn’t recognize you. Please forgive me. What brings you to a bar?"

Spencer Whitaker's cold gaze flicked toward Grant. A faint, mocking smile tugged at his lips as his deep, commanding voice cut through the tension. "I’m the one dancing with her. What are you planning to do about it?"

The air grew thick and heavy.

Grant’s face shifted between pale and flushed. His Adam’s apple bobbed nervously as he forced a strained smile. "I... I wouldn’t dare. Uncle Spencer, you’re just dancing with Summer. I just overreacted."

My chest tightened painfully.

He was furious seeing me dance with Spencer Whitaker, but what about him and Serena Jordan? From the moment Serena appeared, his gaze had never left her. Picking her up at the airport, gifting her a necklace, cooking for her, dancing intimately...

He had ignored my feelings time and again, yet he couldn’t tolerate me taking a single step closer to someone else.

The irony was overwhelming.

Spencer seemed to sense my thoughts. His gaze shifted, coldly sweeping over Grant and Serena.

"Grant Whitaker, you certainly have double standards," Spencer said, his voice icy and cutting. "You can dance so intimately with Serena Jordan, yet forbid your wife from dancing with another man?"

A ripple of shock spread through the crowd.

Serena’s face froze. She quickly stepped back to hide behind Grant, her expression flustered.

Grant, meanwhile, looked utterly humiliated. Cold sweat beaded on his forehead as his face twisted with discomfort.

Spencer didn’t relent. His cold eyes bore into both of them as he continued, "Grant Whitaker, as an Alpha, you’d do well to remember who your Luna is. Stop spending all your time on outsiders and start considering your wife’s feelings."

"You’re absolutely right, Uncle Spencer," Grant mumbled, lowering his head. His voice was so faint it was almost inaudible. "I... I understand. I was wrong."

Serena bit her lip, her face contorted in an expression of feigned grievance. She lowered her head as well, muttering softly, "I just thought I’d celebrate since I just got back... Please don’t be angry, King."

Spencer let out a cold laugh, his sharp gaze like a blade. "Behave yourselves."

With that, he grabbed my hand and led me out of the dance floor without another word.

I followed him in a daze, letting him guide me. My mind replayed the image of Grant and Serena being publicly reprimanded, a sense of vindication swelling in my chest.

For years, I had been belittled, ignored, and sidelined. No one had ever stood up for me.

But tonight, Spencer Whitaker had spoken up for me, forcing Grant to bow his head in shame.

This moment was one I would never forget.

As we walked, people turned their heads to watch. Their whispers reached my ears.

"Oh my God, the King is holding her hand..."

"Who is she?"

"I heard she’s Grant Whitaker’s Luna. She’s actually quite beautiful."

"This is going to be interesting."

My heart pounded in my chest, and heat crept up to my ears.

Spencer led me into a quiet private room. The moment the door shut, the noise from outside disappeared completely, leaving only silence.

He released my hand and said calmly, "Order whatever you’d like. You’ve had a rough night. Let it out."

I clenched my fists and lowered my voice. "Thank you for standing up for me earlier. I feel much better now... But I can’t drink right now."

His eyes flickered briefly, but he didn’t press further. Instead, he simply nodded. "If you ever need anything, come to me. I’m the King, and I’d be happy to help."

I froze, his words catching me off guard. Was the King really so idle that he’d involve himself in my family drama?

The thought made me chuckle, and I couldn’t resist joking, "Uncle Spencer, you really are a good King."

Spencer smiled faintly and pulled out his phone. His tone softened as he said, "In that case, let’s exchange our numbers. Reach out anytime you need something."

I blinked in surprise but quickly recovered, pulling out my phone.

He said no more, and soon, I had added him to my contacts. His profile picture was a simple black square—just as enigmatic and impenetrable as the man himself.

Even though we were technically family after my marriage to Grant, I had always regarded Spencer with a mix of awe and fear.

But tonight showed me that Spencer Whitaker might not be exactly as I had imagined.

Not long after, one of his subordinates entered the room and whispered something to him. I couldn’t make out what they said, but Spencer nodded in response.

He stood and turned to me. "I have something to take care of. If you need anything, contact me directly."

I nodded quickly, feeling both surprised and flattered. I watched him leave, his commanding presence lingering even after he was gone.

Once Spencer left, I realized there was no reason for me to stay any longer.

But just as I was about to leave, my phone buzzed violently in my hand.

It was a call from the hospital.

I answered, and a panicked voice shouted through the line, "Luna! Your son Noah Whitaker has been shot with a silver bullet! He’s been rushed to the pack hospital! His condition is critical—he’s fighting for his life!"