The Lunas Second Chance Mate -
(Book 2) Chapter 25
Alyson
I expect to wake up in chains, or beaten in my unconsciousness, punished for my status and the link to my mate, but I actually wake to the scent of coffee and bacon looming through the air. I struggle to sit up, taking in the sight of a small room with a kitchenette
across the way, a large, bruting rogue Alpha meandering over the breakfast foods he prepares.
My head is spinning from the wolfsbane but I still manage to throw myself out of bed, stumbling through the space between he and I, and slamming a hit directly into the back of his solid shoulder. I hit the floor onto my knees, trembling, my fist radiating pink from the punch. Olivera glances over his stout shoulder, mocking me with a grin. "Good try, sweetheart."
"Filthy traitor," I snarl, wanting to hit him again and again until my wrist breaks. "Why did you do this, Olivera? Ryan trusted you! I trusted you. We were going to help you make things right with the elders-he is there with them now!"
"I don't want to negotiate," he hums simply. "I want to irradicate."
"You can't solve every problem with murder!"
"Then tell me, little blood pet," he says, swiveling around to face me, watching with his eyes down as I peer up at him like a helpless pup, "If you can't talk your way around me, then would killing me help?"
I scoff, though the idea is tempting, I refuse to let barbarism help. "I am not like you."
"You are exactly like me, sweetheart, you just can't fight to back it up," he says, walking past me with his breakfast. He takes a seat at the bay window across the room. The mere thought of making that trip forces my legs to go numb. "I let your bright eyes convince me for a moment. It was a mistake, sweetheart. I won't let you deceive me."
"This isn't about deception," I snap, trying to stand but failing each time, hitting the solid floor with every mighty push. "This is about you being an untrustworthy a*****e!"
His eyes lock on to mine, his mouth pressed into a firm, unamused line. I swallow the sight of an angry Alpha, a displeased superior in size and strength, and watch as he returns to towering over me, something about his height proximity to me on the floor by his polished boots almost sadistically s****l to him.
"I will not tolerate name-calling from you, sweetheart," he says through a clenched jaw.
"You promised to let me try to make this right, Olivera. You had my mate run off to try and get the elders to explain what they have done and how they will fix it. You lied to me and used my kindness to bring me back into this hell! You should have let me go and I should have let you leave that day, dammit. I should have never trusted you."
He c***s a sarcastic smile. "You're really mad, aren't you?"
"Yes!" I bark, feeling my face turn red in heat. "I just wanted to help."
"Why? Does the little Luna feel some sort of responsibility to make every wrong a right? You want to solve everyone's problems, don't you? Play the mighty saver of the weak? You want to help the evil Alpha in his quest to fight the authority?"
I swallow hard, feeling the tears pulse on my cheeks from embarrassment. "I hate you."
He raises a curious, half-intrigued brow. "I don't think you do, blood pet," he harrumphs. "I felt the way you kissed me yesterday, how your lips danced with my own, and I can't imagine anyone kissing someone like that and hating them." "You kissed me," I correct, flustered. "I have a mate!"
"Mhmm, is that right? Can you smell his as your mate?"
I stagger to reply, unsure what to say. I never told him about how the moon goddess took away my scent ability. I never mentioned I can't smell my mate but I know for a fact that Ryan is my mate. He is my best friend and he protected me when no one else would. I know he is just trying to hurt my feelings; I can't let that happen.
"You don't know anything about me and my mate," I growl.
"I know he would do anything for you," Olivera hums. "I know that the moment he found out I had taken you back, that you were my captive again, he started a war with the elders. He saw you just long enough in the healers home to get used to having you back and I swiped it away again, pushing his hand in this game."
Game. This damn game. It isn't a game to me.
"You're evil."
"Perhaps," he hums, looking through me like I'm a puddle he should avoid on the sidewalk, "but I think it's time you realize just because you're a Luna, doesn't mean the world, and everyone in it, has to obey you."
"I never asked you to obey, I asked you to trust me, Oliveira. I was trying to help!"
He pushes his boot outward, hitting my shoulder and forcing me to lay back on the ground. I try to inch away but can't, the toxin in my system making my head loopy and disoriented, something so sharp and sinister in my blood. "I'm getting tired of your attempts to save my soul, Luna."
"You're right," I huff, crawling back a pace or two. "I have no use in saving your soul. The moon goddess will give you what you deserve in the next life. You have started a damn war now and every soul lost in it will be on your hands!"
He looks discant, no longer entertaining out argument. His eyes are the light cyan color again, nothing like the blackness I had seen when he saw another wolf want to defile me. he was so protective then, so sadden to watch me almost be used by another wolf, and he said he would never allow that to happen and yet, he is fine with this torment. He is perfectly okay with starting a battle between my pack and the elders when we were going to help him.
"Just tell me this," I sigh, my body trembling. "Is Ryan okay?"
"Lover boy is fine, his warriors are doing most of the fighting right now, anyways."
I shake my head, lethargic and pathetic. "You started a war when you could've just trusted me, dammit."
"I have to look out for my kind, sweetheart, before I can focus on you and your needs to earn my trust. So for now, stay by my side, or you'll get hurt like last time and I'm not returning you again until this war is settled."
I fold my hands in my lap, frustrated. When I finally look aside, unable to meet his eyes any longer, he walks back to his table. His coffee is still hot and he reaches for a book, toying with the pages to appear mildly distracted while picking at his plate. That's when I look over my shoulder to spot the syringe, still full of white fluid; the poison.
I've noticed that whether he is my captive or my friend, one thing is perfectly clear.
He will protect me.
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