Page 18 of Luna's Forgotten Vow

Soren watches me closely and his hands linger, their warmth soothing the last of my panicked sobs away before he drops them. He doesn't speak as he turns, walking back into his dimly lit bedroom without shutting the door behind him.

My feet do the thinking for me, following him without hesitation. Anything to not return to the darkness in my bedroom. Anything to not...be alone enough to think, to break, again.

His bedroom is large and spacious, taking up a quarter of the top floor. A massive bed, dressed in silky dark sheets and cashmere, sits at the center against a mahogany frame. Floor-to-ceiling windows without curtains or drapes overlook the sprawling estate and the packs beyond.

A sleek fireplace crackles in the corner, its warmth melting the chill that had been lodged in my bones, and I am surrounded by the scent of him and age-old whiskey from the small bar cart by the dark grey wall.

"Do you drink often?" I ask, voice hoarse.

Soren walks into his closet—it's a walk-in large enough to be another bedroom—and reappears almost immediately with ablue robe covering his previously naked torso. "Only when I need to." He is quiet for a moment and the sound of snow falling outside fills the silence. "The dark frightens you."

I look down, toying with the hem of my nightdress. "It's not the dark that frightens me." Gods, why can't I look him in the eye? He's just seen me vulnerable in a way no one else has. Why can't I hold his piercing, intense gaze? "It is what resides in it."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

I look up. Wrong decision. His hair is sticking up this way and that, his expression more relaxed than earlier, and something about seeing him disrobed and comfortable in his own space does something strange to me inside. It's a little flip in my belly. A very tiny, insignificant flip. "What?"

He leans back against the closet's door frame and I have no idea why it takes me this long to realize we're on opposite ends of the bedroom. He's placing distance between us. An odd thing to do, especially since he basically forced his tongue down my throat earlier.

"The nightmare," he says, a little strain added to his voice.

I think of the first nightmare that plagued me for the nights that followed my mother's death and I look out the window at the stormy clouds. It's been four years since then, but for me, it feels like it was just last week and the grief feels like a black hole waiting to swallow me whole. I push it aside the best I can, and the other part of my nightmare comes to me. I still hear the crack, still feel the longing, the heartache. And all of it confuses me. Who was that man? The harder I try to remember his features, the more it slips from my grasp. Were his eyes brown,or were they black? I shake my head, pinching the bridge of my nose. "No. It was nothing."

I feel, rather than see him nod. "I'll get you tea. For your nerves." He nods towards the mattress. "You can have the bed. I'll take the couch."

I should refuse. I want to refuse. But the thought of returning to my room, to the dark pressing in on all sides, makes my stomach turn.

"I just need a light on," I mutter. "That's all."

He doesn't acknowledge my excuse, just turns and disappears into the hallway. I don't let out a breath until he's gone.

I hesitate at the edge of the bed, standing there for a long moment, contemplating how foolish this is, before giving in. My legs trembling as I put one foot after the other until I reach the nightstand. There are a bunch of keys sitting leisurely on the black wood and a single picture frame faces down.

My fingers graze the bronze edges of the frame as I upturn it and I am met with four smiling faces. Well, three, because Soren never smiles. He stands awkwardly in the background, dark green eyes glaring at something in the distance, like he'd been forced to stand in the picture.

Eric has his arm around the shoulders of a brunette, who sticks out her tongue towards the last male.

My heartbeat quickens for no reason. It's...the last man. His blonde hair and brown eyes. His confident smile and the tilt to his head.

I've never seen him before but my knees shake slightly. I trace a thumb absentmindedly over the face, wondering if maybe I'm mistaken, and I have seen the man before.

But an ache so fierce, it strikes me stupid hits me at once and I drop the picture frame, moaning, clutching my head tightly.

It subsides after a while, but it leaves me tired, my head weightless. I grab the dark blankets and toss them back as I climb into the bed large enough to fit an orgy of twelve.

I don't sink into the deceptively comfortable mattress. I perch on the edge, stiff and upright, as if putting myself through this discomfort will distract me from the dark sheets that are still warm and carry his scent—winter, spice and something carnally male—and I shove down the awareness clawing its way up my spine.

Gods, but he smells good.

I shake my head, dispelling the thoughts. I really need to get a grip on myself, my life. I've never had everything handed to me on a silver platter, and now that I find myself in this place, warm, well-fed, clothed, with no worries for where my next meal might come from and no ailing mother to return home to. For the first time, survival isn't a battle. And I have no idea what to do with that.

I hold out my fingers, staring at the healing blisters. What else do I know except cleaning and scrubbing walls? I barely got through high school, dropped out in my third year because I couldn't keep up. I only know how to work until I break. But I can't live like that anymore. Not with a child coming.

Soren may have promised to give me everything I could possibly need, but what happens in the long run when he decides hedoesn't want to keep me around? How do I even trust that all he's told me is true?

I need to find out more about those four years I lost. And who the father of my child is. It feels like a crucial part of my life is missing and until I get it back, it'll continue to be an incomplete puzzle.

I don't realize I have dozed off once more until the door creaks and the scent of herbal tea fills the room. I yawn, shifting onto my side and I crack my heavy eyelids open to a startling sight.

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