Page 32 of Luna's Forgotten Vow

"Sweet," he surmises and I turn to look at him, finally. My gaze meets warm, lovely brown and my fingers shake on woven edges. He tilts his head, eyes running down the length of my frame before returning to my face.

I expect a scowl, a grimace, or a flared nostril. What I do not, however, expect is his leaning forward to...to sniff me. He moves so fast, I can barely follow, and before I can stop him, his nose is buried in my neck. "You're an Omega, and your wolf is barely there." His voice is a deep rumble against my skin, heating it up with his minty breath. "That must be why you cannot yet tell."

The basket falls from where I have wedged it as close as possible to my left hip. I bring my hands to push him off, but he catches my fists easily, pressing his nose against my ear. "You smell good, stranger. Will you tell me your name?"

Surreal. It's fucking surreal that this is happening. Even worse is the heat making my legs immobile and my stomach cramp tightly. It's the rush that fills my veins like a deadly fever and my name falls from my lips without my consent. "Fina."

"Short for Seraphina," he mutters against my skin, and his fingers make quick work of my braids, loosening it. "Fitting."

It is too much to process. Him. His confusing words. His touch. The force of his aura pressing down on my senses, weakening it and shoving himself all in. His scent is spicy, like myrrh, but the sweetness surrounds him, us, teasing me in the cruelest of ways—stripping me of my thinking faculties. "If you could just..." I pant. His hands are in my hair, tugging back. "Please stop."

"Do you want me to?" His words burn against my pulse point in the same moment his canines scrape my skin.

No. "Yes."

He chuckles, stopping his kisses but his hands remain where they are. "I do love a little liar, sometimes." A little pause. "You are nothing at all like I expected."

Remember, I think. Remember why you shouldn't be standing in the dark, alone with a man you don't know. Remember what he is. Remember why this is a terrible situation.

But my brain has gone to rest early today and all I can say is, "You've been...expecting me?"

"Why, Fina, I would think everyone out there looks forward to the day they meet their mates."

I freeze. I must have heard the particular word wrong. Surely, he didn't mean...of course not. There is no way... "What did you say?"

He steps away from me and I catch a smile on his face as he looks me over. His eyes are bright with such joy, I am unsure how to handle it. I'm pretty sure the last person who ever smiled at me like that was my mother. "Mates. You are my mate." He reaches for me and I sway, feeling lightheaded and ill at the proclamation. At the thought that the Goddess thought we were a perfect fit. At the thought of what might come next.

A rejection. I hear it hurts like a bitch for the first few months until time takes the pain away. But it would be more than ideal for me. I haven't included having a man or children into my future. What the hell am I going to do with a mate? Not just an Alpha, but the Head Alpha?

It goes against every plan I've thought up. I hate this place. I can barely even stand working here for another year. I have no interest in being his Luna or a side-piece or a fuck-buddy.

On the other hand, what if he accepted the bond?

Laughter bubbles in my chest. He wouldn't. The dress I have on is covered in holes. I smell like sweat and soup. My hair is...well, there's a lot going on up there. I don't remember the last time I tried combing through the tresses. Or plucked the hair off my legs. Hell, I don't remember the last time I ever cared for my appearance. My shoes are worn and near death.

I look like a fucking hobo.

A blonde brow arches when I keep laughing. "That is not a reaction I would have expected either." His brilliant gaze drops to my foot. "It is dislocated. I would set it back right now, but I'd much prefer doing it somewhere with less eyes."

My voice returns to me and I clear my throat. "This has been...entertaining, but I must return to—hey!"

The world is swept from underneath my feet as he hooks a hand under my knees, wraps his fingers around my shoulders and lifts me. "You are going to get me fired!" I yell. "Put me down!"

His amusement only grows. "You're possibly the only woman I have met who would make such an absurd demand."

"The basket?—"

"Someone else can cater to Mother's unnecessary demands." He cradles me closer to his chest. Tighter. And when he looks down at me, the edges of my vision blur...and glitch.

His lips move but it feels as though my head is under water and the image starts to slip. Why was I out here again? Where am I? Why was the basket of lilacs so important? And...what was his name again?

Ronan...Ron.

My subconscious screams the name at me. Over and over, and suddenly I feel like I am being thrown down the rabbit hole, falling and falling. The face, the name, the voice all fading quickly, like water takes away the soap on the dish.

And when I hit the ground, it is surprisingly soft, the beeping of machines around me a slow, steady hum. My eyes open and I am surrounded by such jarring white.

For a moment, I am disoriented by the sharp scent of chemicals and bleach, my brain trying to recollect why I expected it to smell earthy, floral and spicy. The memory slips from me faster than water runs through one's fingers, and I sob, grasping for it. Trying to understand why all I feel is a deep heartache and a rage that burns so deeply, I can barely breathe.

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