The Nameless Luna – Book One: The Girl With Violet Eyes
The Nameless Luna – Book One: Chapter 6

The villa is as lovely on the inside as it appeared on the outside. The hardwood floors glisten as if freshly polished, and there are countless windows lining the white walls, flooding the interior with light from the outside.
I follow Lucy through the grand foyer in stunned silence. Viktor’s is no less than a mansion, but it’s a gaudy thing compared to this. In Tristan’s villa, there are no chandeliers, flashy tapestries, opulent velvet furniture, or extravagant columns or archways. Everything feels open and cozy in spite of the building’s size, the décor minimal. Houseplants are scattered about in most rooms, but there is only the occasional painting or picture hanging on the walls.
Lucy leads me up a black staircase and stops, looking back at me with a frown. “Do you think you can make it up the stairs? Your room is on the second floor, but if you’re too injured to climb up…”
My ankle still hurts, but I’m hardly crippled. It was an excellent excuse for my inability to shift and run alongside Tristan, but the last thing I want to do is make a fuss about it. At the mention of ‘your room,’ Viktor’s dark cellar with the hard little cot and bolted door flashes through my mind, and I shake my head. It’s best if I just go to my new cell and stay out of trouble.
I take a few tentative steps up the stairs, and Lucy nods in approval. She hurries past me to show me the way, and I fall in step behind her without question or complaint, making a mental note of every shut door, every window, and every possible exit.
When she leads me into the room, I glance over my shoulder, wondering if perhaps she took the wrong turn. Did she bring me to her own bedroom? I don’t dare ask, but then Lucy whirls around to face me with a curious glance.
“Alrighty, this is your room. Do you like it?”
My jaw drops, and she giggles in amusement. This room is… mine?
There’s a queen size bed on the left side, with light pink pillows and silky sheets. There’s a wide nightstand, a comfy-looking lounge chair with a drooping lamp beside it, and a cute, round coffee table. On the other end, the entire wall is made of glass, with a built-in sliding door that leads onto the terrace, revealing a breathtaking view of the mountainside. Sunlight pours in through that glass, streaming in between the trees and making the room itself feel like a continuation of the forest outside.
“Go on,” Lucy says. “Have a look around.”
Even if I were brave enough to speak to these people, I wouldn’t know what to say. I take a few steps further into the room, marveling at the green and blue landscape on the other side of the glass. The space feels free and open, minimalistic but organic, somehow like it was designed to fit into the surrounding forest of the mountain like a puzzle piece.
“If you go out onto the terrace, you can actually see the lake off to the right,” Lucy goes on, a hint of pride in her voice. “The front of the house faces the road to town, so you’ll have some privacy on this side, but if it gets too bright in the early hours of the morning, you can always just close the curtains. They’re blackout, so you’ll be able to sleep in if you want to. Here, I’ll show you.”
She takes a step forward and tilts her chin up, raising her voice slightly.
“House, shut the drapes,” she commands, and the curtains obey her order as if by magic, sliding shut over the glass and plunging the room into shocking darkness. I gasp and stagger backward, and Lucy chuckles before adding, “Never mind, house, open the drapes.”
Again, the house obeys, and I turn to face Lucy with wide eyes, torn between fear and amazement. Was that some sort of luxury technology… or magic?
“This house is called the Villa Du Lac, and the entire property is enchanted,” Lucy explains quickly, undoubtedly sensing my alarm. “It was built by Tristan’s father, but many years ago, a witch cast a powerful spell on it. It’s a long story, but basically, the house looks after itself. It’ll clean the floors, do the dishes, and even make your bed if you ask it to. Pretty cool, huh?”
All I can do is nod in speechless awe. Still, I make a mental note of the strange look that flickered over Lucy’s expression when she mentioned Tristan’s father, resolving to worry about it later. Right now, all I can think about is the fact that I’ll be living here in this gorgeous house– in this gorgeous, ENCHANTED house.
And I have my own room. Not a dungeon or a cellar, but a proper room, lovelier than any I’ve ever seen before. This can’t be real. This can’t possibly be mine. I feel like I could burst into tears, but then Lucy clears her throat, the sound shaking me out of my dazed disbelief.
“You don’t talk much, do you?” she says, arching a brow as her grey eyes survey me from head to toe as if, now that she’s completed her task and shown me my room, she can get to the interesting part and focus on me.
She watches me expectantly, and I can’t help but shrink away from her curious gaze, wringing my bony fingers in uncomfortable silence. After a moment, when it becomes apparent that I’m not going to be nearly as entertaining as she hoped, she lets out a resigned sigh.
“It’s probably for the best. Tristan always says I talk too much anyways,” she huffs. “No wonder you two are mates. You talk even less than he does.”
The exiled Alpha may be different from my uncle, but he’s still an Alpha. In my experience, men in power usually prefer the sound of their own voice to that of others, and if Tristan prefers silence, then it’s a good thing I have years of experience keeping my mouth shut.
“Anyway, I’ll leave you to get settled in. The bathroom is through there if you want to have a shower,” she says simply, nodding at a doorway on the side of the room. “We’ll go shopping over the next few days and get you some new clothes, but in the meantime, I had the house put some of my stuff in the closet for you.”
I can’t help but feel like I’ve failed some kind of test. Lucy’s initial friendliness and excitement have ebbed away, discouraged by my withdrawn demeanor. It’s like she expected her Alpha to bring home a shiny new playmate, only for him to return with a great big bore of a bride.
I’m not what she was hoping for. I’m not what any of them wanted.
“Tristan’s room is on the third floor, and mine is down the hall,” Lucy goes on, already heading for the door. “I’ll be back in a bit with a healer to look at your ankle. Make yourself at home and holler if you need anything.”
The realization creeps in slowly, like music that’s been playing in the background, and I’ve been too distracted by the pretty sights to notice. But now that I’ve heard it, I can’t pretend it’s not there anymore. I may be surrounded by beauty and politeness, but I don’t belong here. I’m not wanted here.
Though he stole me away, Tristan did not ask for this. He’s not happy about me being his mate, and clearly, neither is his pack. His Beta alone looked ready to pick a fight over the matter.
I can’t help but think of how frustrated Tristan sounded at my cousin’s mating ceremony, or the weariness in his eyes when I walked away. Had I imagined the kindness there? Do I hunger for warmth and affection so much that I deluded myself into thinking I’d replace it here? How long will their mercy last before their disappointment sours it? Will I be rejected? Tossed aside or locked away? Or will they try to throw me back to my old pack to face Viktor’s wrath over my failure?
I don’t want to replace out.