Page 35 of King Luna

Clutching my scarf, Noah releases a saccharine, soothing scent, sending tingles down my spine. I’m already feeling better just from inhaling his loving pheromones, but when he scrubs my scarf against his scent glands, I curl my toes in anticipation.

As I hoped, Noah wraps the scarf around my neck, swooping the fabric over my nose—immersing me in lungfuls of his comfort. I can’t help but purr, burrowing in deeper.

“How’s that?” Noah asks, but he’s already grinning wide; my eyelids droop in absolute bliss, my stomach swirling with delight despite still recovering.

But as the plane jerks back, driving onto the runway, every sensation in me is replaced by fear.

I grip Noah’s hand hard enough to turn my fingers white. A furious, commanding urgency in my gut tells me to lean past the dividers at our sides and check out the window, ensuring we’re safe. Then check it again.

That’s OCD talking. I know it. That doesn’t stop OCD from holding an absolute chokehold over my brain, shuffling me in my seat in discomfort. Noah’s protective scent rushes past the fabric covering my nose, but it’s not enough to settle my racing, shallow breath.

“What’s going on, Luna?”

I groan. “Dammit, I thought I worked on this enough with Jenny.”

“Are you scared?”

“Yes. But I don’t want to miss out on your first game of 20 Questions.”

Noah’s eyes widen as I visibly quiver. If I wasn’t so freaked out, I’d laugh, rubbing his arm to reassure him that I’m not dying, but I’m not so convinced myself.

“O-okay, uh— You’re sure it’s not an avoidance compulsion to play that game instead of facing your fears, head-on?”

“Good point...” I frown, thinking through the details. “I normally wouldn’t be sure, except my brain is demanding that I consistently check outside the window to make sure we’re okay, which usually means it’s time to live my life as I would without the obsession nagging at me.”

“Got it. Then how about I ask the first question to get us going?”

“Okay.” I clutch his hand.

Noah grips my hand back, allowing me to squeeze harder. It’s cathartic enough for me to take a deeper breath.

But Noah focuses hard—conjuring his first question with a deep stare into the blank screen in front of us. When his eyebrows raise, I lean in, curious what’s stirring a sudden shyness in our bond.

Lowering his voice, Noah turns to me with serious, furrowed brows over his puppy-dog stare. “Who was your first crush?”

Tension washes from my limbs as I erupt into giggles. “Are you trying to make yourself jealous?”

Noah grins, softening his expression. “No. Everyone who made the mistake of leaving you should be insanely jealous ofme.”

I bite back a smile. “Well, actually... My first crush was Amy.”

Noah’s eyebrows lift—a much milder reaction than I anticipated. But within seconds, his true surprise explodes in our bond.

“It’s not what it sounds like. It’s more like—” I laugh. “I was six, and I thought she was the most powerful girl I’d ever seen. I wanted to be just like her. Then, when everyone thought I was a weirdo, she was so kind to me, which is my weakness.”

Noah breaks into a massive smile. “It is, huh?”

“Yes.” I laugh, gazing straight into my mate's adoring eyes. “But I quickly realized I loved her as a forever-friend, and it was more of a deep admiration thing.”

Noah softens into a gentle smile, his thumb tracing my palm. “Cute. So fucking cute.”

Clearing my throat, I fidget with Noah’s thumb. “Well, until college when we kissed for fun and I realized I was attracted to girls too. But then she met Kira about a week later, so nothing else happened, of course.”

Noah tilts his head. “Was that hurtful?”

I’m so relieved that he’s not upset that a fizzy excitement spreads throughout my chest. I break into a smile. “Not too hurtful, thankfully. I felt more connected to her as a best friend, so it was actually a bit of a relief to not have any dating expectations.”

Noah hums in understanding, dropping his stare to our hands.

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