Page 23 of The Barren Luna

He talked again but I wasn’t able to focus on the words. All my energy went into reciting the steps of my plan and not throwing up. Violence wasn’t the problem, and neither was gore – we were wolves, we hunted all the meat we ate, we eviscerated enemies, we sparred during pack training and bruised and bloodied each other, but this was different – I was preparing to go against the two most sacred positions in a werewolf’s life – my mate and my Alpha.

If it wasn’t for the wolfsbane, I don’t think my wolf would let me do it, she still loved his wolf and accepted his authority as our Alpha. But I wasn’t going to resign myself to a life of sexualslavery because of that. I’d had all night last night and all day today to plan this out, to consider the consequences, and I was ready. Even if the guards killed me on sight after discovering the murder, I was fine with it – I’d given up on life long ago, when I was still in the dungeon. The only unacceptable outcome was both of us surviving.

After we were done eating, I got up to put the plates in the sink, and on my way back to the table, I took the syringe full of poppy seed tincture from my pocket and stabbed him in the neck with it, emptying the contents into his jugular. He promptly collapsed onto the table, face-down.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered to the wolf, not the man.

I then grabbed my trusty Kramer by Zwilling 10“ serrated bread knife from the set we got as a mating present from my old Alpha and Luna, and I first used all of my strength to press it down on the back of his neck to crack his vertebrae. Then I needed to find an opening between them to completely detach his head from his body. It was the best I could do without silver. I thought of all the sourdough breads I’d used this knife on at this very table, and how I would eagerly cut through the crust to see how well they had turned out on the inside. Now, I was sawing through the jugular of my mate, through his windpipe, and his flesh, while his blood oozed and pooled at my feet.

After I was done, I threw the head as far away from me as I could. I irrationally worried it would reattach itself somehow. My body refused to believe it was over. I dropped the knife and fell to my knees in the blood, my hands shaking, my yellow dress drenched in various bits and fluids.

I heard a commotion and someone breaking the door in, and then a huge mountain of a male appeared in front of me, lookingcrazed and worried. He grabbed me and I closed my eyes, ready to receive my punishment, but all I felt was his hands roaming my body, patting me down. I opened my eyes and saw him still looking me over, but not angrily. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was worried I might be hurt.

“I killed him,” I said, my entire body shaking at this point. “I killed him,” I sobbed.

“I know, I know,” the stranger said, rubbing my upper arms with his hands. “It’s okay, you’re okay now.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and it all went dark.

11 - Ginny

At this point, one would think waking up from a blackout wouldn’t faze me anymore. And yet, my body felt riddled with anxiety as I smelled the (unfortunately) too-familiar hospital smell. Two male voices were talking, and I woke up to one of them saying, “She needs more time, David,” to which the male, who I presumed was David, responded: “Quiet, she’s awake”.

I opened my eyes since there was no use in pretending anymore, and observed the two of them for a moment. One was very clearly a doctor (the white coat gave it away), he was tall and blond, with kind brown eyes. He seemed serene and I immediately got the feeling that his patients trusted him.

The other one, dark-haired and blue-eyed, looked constricted and uncomfortable in the expensive-looking suit that had to have been tailor-made since I couldn’t imagine any store that would carry clothes that would be able to envelop his gigantic frame. I got the vibe he would rather be wearing something more practical that he could chop wood or hunt in, as he exuded the nervous energy of a caged animal.

Something about his face felt familiar, and I suddenly remembered that he was the male who was there after I hadkilled Henry. Oh, God. My hand shot to my mouth. I killed my mate. I felt my heart race faster and faster as it became increasingly harder to breathe.

Both males rushed to my bedside while I stared at my hands, which still felt red and sticky from my mate’s blood, and I started hyperventilating. Oh God, oh God, I killed him. The larger male tried to calm me down and, just like he did in the aftermath of my crime, he soothingly ran his hands over my upper arms while cooing: “It’s okay, look at me, just breathe with me, okay,” and soon I remembered how to.

He was gazing into my eyes intently as if trying to memorize something about them when I felt a needle prick my arm, and I was out again. I dreamed of a large, soft, white wolf cuddling me, and I felt warm and safe for the first time in months.

“Hello, Ms. Giles, the nurse told me you woke up,” the doctor said as soon as he entered my room. I set down the cup I was drinking from and nodded.

“Yeah, hi. Could you please tell me where I am and what is happening?”

“Let’s start from the beginning – I am Doctor Dylan Matthews, and you are currently at the Royal Pack Hospital in Colorado.”

I processed the information briefly, and it made sense – I was brought here to be tried for my crime. Doctor Matthews continued:

“The first time you woke up, you were very agitated by memories of recent events and we had to sedate you since you were experiencing a pretty severe panic attack.”

“What did you give me?” I asked apprehensively. “Please don’t give me poppy seed,” I pleaded quietly, my eyes filling with tears.

“Don’t worry!” He was quick to reassure me. “We used a chamomile and valerian root tincture. It is standard procedure for criminal trials to do a series of tests on the defendant, and your body showed signs of prolonged wolfsbane ingestion, whereas your nails and hair showed traces of poppy seed, meaning you had major exposure or addiction to it at some point in the recent months.”

I just nodded and said: “Thank you.”

“Unfortunately, you'll have to endure the wolfsbane a bit longer,” he added sympathetically and I looked at him with horror. “I can’t even imagine how awful it must feel, but this is also standard procedure for trials. Since you're so weak physically right now, I will prescribe the lowest dose possible and I will speak to the King about expediting your trial as much as he can.”

“I really appreciate it,” I said and I meant it. This male did not treat me like a criminal, and I let myself enjoy the feeling for a moment because I knew that soon I would be tried as one.

“Unless you have any more questions, Ms. Giles, I will leave you to rest, freshen up, or whatever you feel like doing,” he concluded with a friendly smile.

“Could you please address me as Ms. Haines or Regina?”

“Of course, Ms. Haines,” he smiled and almost bared his neck to me before turning it into a weird little bow of the head and then he left. I was no longer a Luna, both he and I would do well to remember that.

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