Page 24 of Luna's Forgotten Vow

Wiping sweat and drool off my face, I get off the bed on shaky feet, padding over to the door that separates both our rooms. I hesitate for a second.

We've been doing this for more than a week. I sleep in his bed, he takes the couch. Or sleeps in mine. It's that I feel less tense in his own bedroom because it feels less caged in and is open to the elements. It's also...the odd sense of comfort that comes from being in a space so controlled by him, telling him bits of whatever I remember, while he helps me log them, his patience and deep listening.

For a moment, I felt safe. I felt less alone.

I still do. It's just...after last evening, his lips on my skin...I'm not sure what to think of this...situation. I still feel the flick of his tongue against my pulse and the way it went all the way to my middle. The toe curling feeling that had turned my legs into jelly.

Strangers? Acquaintances? Friends? There's not a word I can find to describe this.

Sighing, I twist the doorknob.

Soren is seated on the red plush couch, leaned over a laptop and a couple of files. His dark hair is slightly disheveled, falling over his forehead nearly into his scarred eye. His fingers scrubagainst his stubbled jaw absentmindedly and my fingers twitch at my sides.

He glances up from the screen, glacial green eyes scanning my face. As if he can tell what troubles me, he nods towards the mug. "Tea."

I swallow, shutting the door behind me. "You always seem to have a cup ready when I need it."

He leans back and I pretend not to notice his silk blue robe has come open, showing quite an expanse of tan skin, a few curls of hair dotting his broad chest, and lower is a ridiculous definition of abs that makes my mouth dry. In the low light, his skin looks golden. "Assume I am attuned to your every need." He closes the laptop as I join him on the other end of the couch, grabbing the still hot tea. "The same one?"

I shake my head and sip. Herbs dissolve on my tongue, bitter at first, then sweet enough to make me swallow a moan. "Mostly. I got a face this time."

He props his cheek on his fist as I explain what I remember the best I can before the ache hits me. The wound behind my head is completely healed now, but it still hurts. The physician says it'll hurt less with time.

"We'll have Eric find an artist to draw up a sketch by morning." Snow hits the window. Soren's eyes follow mine, searching. "It is time we told the pack of the baby."

My fingers tighten on the cup. "You said it was best it remained private."

He nods, bracing his elbows on his knees. "I did, but in a few weeks, you will begin to show. Making the announcementsolidifies your standing, and we wouldn't need to pretend anymore. That way, we can focus on more pressing matters."

Pretend. I wonder if the growl that rattled against my chest as he flicked his tongue over my pulse was an act. Or the heat that unfurled in my stomach as I bared my neck for him to sink his teeth into.

My stomach tightens. With him, my body acts before my mind, against my own will. "More pressing matters?"

He nods. "For one, the reason you got attacked and nearly killed is because you weren't trained."

"There were two of them?—"

"Being an Omega and a woman already places you at a disadvantage. But there are ways to overcome it. Your wounds weren't inflicted precisely, which shows they were winging it. You know what that tells me?"

My cheeks heat. "They weren't fighters."

He affirms with another nod. "Had you possessed even the basest knowledge on a defensive stance, you would have escaped. Barely with your life, yes, but it would have bought you more time to find help. If you cannot beat the enemy, you must, at least, know how to properly run from them." He pushes a tablet in front of me. "Your schedule, starting tomorrow."

I lean forward, glossing over the screen, surprised by the excruciatingly detailed schedule. "Tutoring?"

Soren regards me, something lighter traveling in his eyes. "You are High Luna. It would be embarrassing if you couldn't even read the pack's financial reports."

I scowl. "I can read."

A smirk hovers at the corners of his mouth. "I suppose you'll do just fine, then."

I glare at him, but he just leans back against the couch, watching me with that frustratingly unreadable expression. "You expect me to do all this?" I gesture towards the crammed schedule. "I had no idea I was signing up for becoming an extension of you. You assume I'll stick around long enough for all of this to be useful." My eyes snag on 'learning negotiations of trade agreement' and my brain blanks out.

Soren's muscles seem to tense when I mention sticking around, but it's only a brief reaction, gone in a second and replaced with speculation. "Think of it as a long-term gig. You do this right and you leave this marriage not only wealthy, but strong enough to defend yourself wherever you may go. Political prowess, mental cunning, diplomacy, you name it. You'd have learned it all."

It is...much better than what I had planned and is perfectly in line with the picture I have begun to dream up for my future. One thing, however, remains missing.

"There is another man in my dream. I was happy with him. I...I need to find him. He could be the father of my child." The man I dream about in those fleeting memories where I am happy and laughing hard enough to hurt my stomach. I was happy, somewhere, with someone else. Someone I don't remember, someone whose face I recollect only in my dreams, but never in my waking moments.

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