Page 55 of King Luna

“A-about that...” Noah plops onto the bed’s edge, tugging his tie off his throat. “I-I don’t know if you have this, but PTSD gives me some serious issues with memory recall, and—” He drops his head, digging his fingers into his hair. “Sometimes, when I’m already nervous or stressed, I can't remember fucking anything about these people in words, only my wolf’s impressions of them. I’m really afraid to tell most people that because they might think I’m not fit to be their leader, but— I don’t know. It’s brief when I do forget, but I can’t deny it happens. Especially around certain... triggers.”

The ache in my stomach is replaced with fire. According to last night, “certain triggers” means asshole Alphas.

So itwasanother Alpha who hurt him. It better not be anyone here.

Noah notices the uptick in my emotions, shrinking into himself. “I-I’m sorry—”

I gasp. “Oh, God, not you, Noah! I completely understand. I’m just mad someone hurt you, just like you were mad someone hurt me.”

“Oh.” Noah rubs his brow with one hand, staring at the other clamped on his knee. “W-well, anyway... Seeing everyone's faces on the blacklist tonight will help jog my memory, and even more so when they arrive tomorrow. I know it's not ideal, but—” He glances at me. “D-do you think I could tell you if there’s a-anything else I remember as we go? I really do want to tell you more.”

My shoulders soften. “Absolutely. I love that idea.”

Iwantedto feel relaxed, at least. Now I’m quivering with nerves, arm in arm with Noah as we exit our room.

Noah’s pheromones are exploding, overwhelming me with his protective scent.No matter what happens this week, I’ll be with you through it all, okay?

I stop Noah in the hallway, drawing him down for a sultry kiss. As I bury my nails into the back of his hair for a soothing scratch, my Alpha musk shows itself.And I have your back before anyone else's. Goddess help anyone who threatens you.

Noah freezes, staring deep into my eyes. Gathering my cheeks into his hands, Noah closes his eyes. An overpowering wave of safety swirls through our bond as Noah’s hips fall flush with mine, pressing me against the wall with his deep purr.

But someone clears their throat. “Well, shit. We might need to postpone the dinner after all.”

Noah and I hurriedly pull away from each other; we’re face to face with the King and Queen Lycans. Decked from head to toe in black and white, Viktor’s and Annika’s forms are sleek and smiles immaculate, a perfect vision of elegant, powerful leaders.

Annika giggles. “Don’t stress yourselves, please! It’s so good to see you both!”

My shoulders slump. “Oh, Luna, I’m so sorry I slept for so long. I feel terrible about it!”

“No, mama, please don’t be sorry. I wanted you to rest!” Annika grasps my hands, but I pull her into a hug.

“Thank you. Your pumpkin bread saved my life.”

Noah’s soft chuckles rumble behind me.

Pulling back to face me, Annika grins even wider. “It’s good, isn’t it?”

Viktor's laugh echoes throughout the tall, arched hallway. “My Luna’s pregnancy pumpkin bread is to die for, that’s for sure. But if I ate it while she was pregnant, she’d maul me.”

Annika gasps. “Viktor! I would not!”

After a playful nuzzle, Viktor guides Annika down the hallway. “I hate to break up the love fest, but Tane and Waimarie are probably excited and waiting for us, knowing them. Let’s get going.”

Like Greenfield, Viktor and Annika’s Kiruna Pack has a community kitchen, but it’s framed by vaulted, castle-like ceilings with old chandeliers dangling low. We have to sneak through a dim hallway reserved for staff, preventing ourselves from causing a stir in the dining hall, but I catch a glimpse through a small opening in the kitchen. Facing one another across round wooden tables, pack members chat happily in the dining hall, their pack just as expansive as ours with Lycans of all ages and ethnicities. People must travel from all over to find refuge here too. It settles my twisting stomach.

Viktor and Annika guide us out the kitchen’s back door, passing through another hallway until we reach a small alcove of the lodge—an old restaurant nestled beside the dining hall. Intimate, streamlined modern tables line the walls, immersing the surrounding brick with dancing candlelight. There are only about ten tables, and it’s reserved just for us tonight, the restaurant’s front doors shut tight.

Seated in the back of the restaurant, there they are: Tane and Waimarie from Tawairauriki Pack. The second Tane spots us, he leaps from his seat, arms outstretched. “Kia ora.”

We smile, echoing the Maori greeting as Tane dashes over to us. His bulky form is at least twice the size of Waimarie, the Luna known for her warmth and generosity. As she shuffles out of the curved booth, she pulls her long, black hair over her shoulder, allowing it to cascade down her flowing, hot pink dress.

But Waimarie winces as she rises, gripping her back.

I flinch with her, extending my hand to help her to her feet. “Oh, gosh, Luna. Are you alright?”

“Sorry, I reckon I’m just stiff from all that flying, and—” She blinks a few times before she recognizes me, but the second she does, the table’s candlelight shimmers in her eyes, complementing her wide, infectious smile. As if our wolves recognize each other as old, dear friends, my chest bursts with excitement.

“Luna Aliya!” Waimarie cheers, throwing her arms out for a hug—just like Tane.

---