Page 132 of King Luna

“I can’t threaten him. It's illegal in the human world.”

Noah takes a breath to speak, but I shake my head.

“Even with physical fucking evidence of him invading my body, the police never protected me, Noah. They only protectedhim. They always will.”

Noah closes his eyes, pain stinging our bond. “I know.”

His fragile voice nearly breaks me.

I suck in a hitching breath. “He won’t listen to my fears or cares, anyway. I’m a woman. He probablylikeswhen I suffer. Finds it amusing.”

Noah grits his teeth, leaving us in silence. We sit in limbo for a solid minute, wavering over the possibilities.

Until Noah’s voice fills the space between us, his voice soft and even. “Alright, if he needs a man to put him in his place, I’ll step in at the end—after we have our information.”

I swallow hard, feeling a bit safer with this plan.

But Noah’s jaw can’t stop clenching.

“I’ll let him know he’ll never be able to hurt another woman again without paying for it.” His voice comes out just as delicate, but this time, it leaves a chill in the air.

My heart pounds into my throat, face to face with Noah’s blaring emotions. They’re too much to process beside my own. But with an overload of overwhelming sensations, my PTSD symptoms kick in—numbing me out.

Finally, all I hear is silence.

Noah’s eyes widen as my crying comes to an abrupt halt. “L-Luna?”

He’s looking at me, waiting for reassurance that I’m okay.

I don’t answer. I can’t.

“Omega? What's going on?”

Noah rubs my shoulders, arms, and cheeks, kissing each one with no response.

“Aliya.”

My eyes zip to his, not used to him calling me anything but his nicknames for me, unless he’s really trying to make a point. But I don’t know what else there is to say. I have no thoughts left, only vague whispers of terrors licking at my soul like escalating flames.

“W-what are you thinking?” Noah whispers.

“I’m thinking...” I tilt my head, distracted by the unfamiliar sound of my own voice; not only is it deadpan, but it’s also echoing in my head like it’s at the other end of a long tunnel. “I want to call him.”

Noah shuffles where he stands. “N-now?”

“Yes. If I have to live another second not knowing who might’ve killed our dads, I don’t think I can handle it.”

Veins bulge across Noah’s temples. “Okay. I’ll be right here.”

My thumb shakes as it hovers over the voice call button. When I finally tap it, my mind goes blank.

There’s silence.

Then there’s the first ring.

“A-are you going to be okay?” Noah whispers.

“Yes.”

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