Page 19 of Luna's Forgotten Vow

Soren hovers above me, expression dark and unclear. His chest seems to heave, his mouth parting slightly as he takes it in—me. The intensity with which he watches me breathe inhisbed,hisblankets grazing my skin, it makes my spine straighten. Arch.

His nostrils flare and something terrifying slithers behind his eyes, making me wonder for a second if I have made a mistake walking in here. If I should be more afraid of him, of this charged atmosphere between us than I should be of the dark outside.

But Soren sets the tea down and reaches over to grab two pillows, making a point to avoid me. He doesn't speak, doesn't even glance my way again, and something about it—about the silence stretching between us—makes my throat tighten.

I exhale sharply. "The bed's big enough for both of us," I say, like it doesn't matter. Like I don't care.

I do.

Not about him. Just about the silence, the dark, the weight of being alone tonight. That's all this is. Nothing more. "I don't move much in my sleep."

Soren exhales sharply through his nose. His knuckles turn white where he grips the pillows, his shoulders rigid with tension. I brace, expecting him to throw my words back in my face, call me pathetic for needing him here.

Instead, he tosses the pillows back onto the bed, like it costs him something and says roughly, voice thick, "You do not seem so frightened by me, anymore, Sera."

It is, but I am mildly distracted by the way he's said my name. Sera. It's only ever been 'Seraphina' or 'Miss Everly'. Matter of fact, no one's ever called me Sera before. And definitely not like that. Like a barely restrained growl that comes out as a whimper.

I swallow. "I'm not the one who ran after kissing me."

His gaze flicks to my mouth and lingers. "I had to. I will have no one question my affections for you."

Butter. My insides melt like butter. And now, I don't just despise his touch, I despise the depth of his voice and the words that tumble off that sensual mouth. I despise the intensity about him, the way every single word is dropped like a time bomb that implodes, rather than explodes. And most of all, I despise the way he looks at me. Like I am something special, something deserving of devotion.

"You play this game too well," I say, though I can't keep the slight tremor from my voice. "How many women have you tried this with? Seducing them with a contract and luring them into your bed with deceptively sweet promises?"

His eyes are frighteningly dark. "Just you." He leans in slightly. "And if I were indeed seducing you, you wouldn't be fully dressed right now, Sera. Or speaking at all."

I have no idea how we got here, but I can't seem to stop. "You're overconfident, you know that? Not that I have any idea what you're thinking, but it'll never happen."

Soren's lips curve ever so slightly. "Not until you want it to." He moves again and my heartbeat speeds when his nose brushes against my cheek. Gold flecks dance in his eyes. "Move over for me, will you?"

I jerk, moving swiftly to the other end of the bed, facing the bookshelf, and Soren's soft chuckle follows me all the way to the other side. I feel the bed dip and the covers shift.

He moves for a while, his breaths harsh as he tosses and turns, as if sleeping in bed with me is just as uncomfortable for him as it is for me.

"Tell me what it was about," he says after it becomes clear that neither of us is falling asleep anytime soon. "Your scream woke me. It sounded like you were being ripped apart."

I hesitate. My fingers tighten around the edge of the blanket. "My mother. The night she died. It haunts me."

Thick silence. Snow continues to fall gently outside. "It wasn't your fault. Cancer hardly is anyone's fault."

I turn, gazing at the high ceiling and the chandelier that lights the room dimly. "It wasn't the cancer. Or her frail mind. It was a rogue. He broke into the apartment to steal. He was hardly lucid and pushed her. The illness had already taken its toll and she barely even had the strength anymore to walk the length of her room to the toilet. He must have startled her." My throat closes and I pause for a little while before continuing. "I should've been there."

A single tear rolls down my right cheek. And then another. And I am grateful he says nothing in that moment, because I'm unsure if I'll be able to take it if he patronizes me and tells me again that it isn't my fault.

He just breathes—steady, strong, evenly.

After a long stretch of silence, his voice finds me again, softer now. "I apologize for prying. I wasn't aware..."

I shake my head, sparing him a quick glance before returning my gaze to the ceiling. "You couldn't have known. No one does, except Alpha Nolan. He saw no use looking into the matter or taking responsibility for the lack of security on the poorer ends of the pack. So, the general known cause of her death was the illness. Burned her body to hide the evidence, as opposed to giving her a proper funeral."

"And the Head Alpha did nothing about this?"

A tremor runs through me. "He didn't know. Head Alphas rarely hear of these things. What's one Omega's word compared to that of an Alpha's? What is one Omega's life compared to the peace of the pack?"

Soren exhales harshly. "Tell me this. The rogue, was he punished?"

I clutch the blanket tighter. "Not exactly." I swallow against the nausea roiling in my gut at the remembrance. "He died before help arrived."

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