Page 73 of My Only Luna

“I look good on you,” I say quietly. “I want to see mine.”

I don’t know where our phones are, but she reaches over, grabbing my pants and taking out my phone. I take it from her, one hand caressing her ass as I unlock the camera.

My neck is all healed and on it is a shimmering dark grey tattoo, it’s a wolf with her head raised up, and an intricate ring surrounds the wolf. Her wolf… her mark is on my neck.

“It’s perfect.”

“Mmm.” She smiles, “We are complete.”

I place the phone down and brush her hair off her face.

“Yeah, we are.”

She loves me deeply too… fuck, that’s all I could have hoped for.

I gaze into her eyes before I tug her head down, knowing she’s tired. She snuggles against my chest and she’s out in seconds.

A content smile crosses my lips as I gaze at the beautiful queen who is now snuggled on top of me fast asleep. I know she didn’t sleep well last night. Neither did I.

I notice the marks she left on me are fading away. It seems since our bond is complete, I can heal faster, too. The thought amuses me. I actually liked having her leave some proof of our lovemaking on me. She’ll just need to bite harder next time.

I kiss her forehead. No matter what, I will keep her safe. Now and forever.

Internal Struggles

Elijah

“Please, Papa! Please don’t!” A child’s voice shrieks in horror. I frown. Where am I? I scan my surroundings; I am in some sort of room–a garage. There are tools and weapons around the side, many that are stained with the colour of dried blood. My stomach twists with unease, my gaze snapping to the table in the centre, one that is covered with bloodstains, some old, some new.

My gaze is forced up when I see movements and my attention falls to a man I recognise, one who smashes a child’s head into the floor repeatedly.

Stop!

Anger blazes through me as I run over, making to grab the man only for my hand to swing right through him. I try again but it is futile. Is this a dream? I stare with horror at the child, who is covered in so much blood, her tiny hands clawing at the monster’s wrist. A child I’m unable to help, a little girl.

A girl.

Through the blood, I recognise strands of strawberry blond hair and fear-filled sage green eyes.

I back away, my heart thudding as realisation hits me hard, bile rising in my throat.

No…

This is not a nightmare; it’s a memory. Scarlett’s memory.

My world spins as I watch helplessly as Zidane drags her by the hair across the room before picking up a large jug of liquid and flinging it over the little girl. I blanch as I rush to her side once again, her screams piercing my heart.

“Stop this!”

Scarlett!

The colour drains from my face as I try to shield her, my eyes sting with desperation and suffocating agony at seeing her suffering like this. Wolfsbane burns her skin as she writhes on the floor, trying to find reprieve from the pain. I try to reach out to her, but my hand simply goes through her.

“Bastard,” I growl, looking at the man who is watching the child, his head tilted to the side with a manic glint in his eyes as he relishes in her pain, his eyes sparkling as the wolfsbane burns her.

I shout for him to stop, the hatred I have for him growing, but I’m unable to do anything but pray to the Goddess to ease her suffering.

After a few moments of watching, he turns and leaves the room, leaving the child on the floor. I watch her, wishing I could give her some sort of support as her body convulses in agony before me.

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