Chapter Eight: First Taste of Freedom
1235 Words
Treston rose from the bed with a gentleness that contrasted sharply with the storm raging behind his eyes. He crossed the room to the table where the servants had left the trays, lifting lids and checking temperatures like a man preparing a sacred offering.
Taunie watched him, confused, unsure, clutching the blanket around her shoulders.
He selected a plate — roasted chicken, warm rolls, fresh fruit, a bowl of soup still steaming — and carried it back to her. When he sat beside her on the bed, the mattress dipped slightly, and she stiffened out of habit.
“Taunie,” he said softly, “this is for you.”
Her eyes widened. “For… me?”
“All of it.”
She stared at the plate as if it were a dream she wasn’t allowed to touch.
Treston broke off a small piece of chicken, blew on it, and held it near her lips.
“Try it.”
She hesitated, trembling. Then she leaned forward and took the bite.
The moment the flavor hit her tongue, her eyes fluttered shut. A soft, involuntary sound escaped her — a tiny moan of pure relief and pleasure.
Warm.
Real.
Seasoned.
Not scraps.
Not garbage.
Not cold leftovers tossed at her feet.
Her throat tightened, and tears filled her eyes.
“I… I can’t remember the last time I tasted food like this,” she whispered. “Everything I ever got was old or rotten or… or someone else’s scraps.”
Treston’s jaw clenched, but he kept his voice gentle.
“You deserve better than scraps. You deserve everything.”
A tear slipped down her cheek. He reached up and wiped it away with his thumb, slow and tender. Then he leaned forward and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead — reverent, careful, as if she were something precious.
Taunie froze, breath catching.
“Treston…” she whispered.
He cupped her face with both hands, thumbs brushing her cheeks. His eyes were warm, steady, full of something she didn’t know how to name.
“You are beautiful,” he said quietly. “Inside and out. And I will do anything for you. Anything.”
Her breath trembled. “Why? I don’t understand why someone like you would—”
“Because you’re mine,” he said simply. “Because the Moon chose you. Because I’ve waited my whole life for you.”
Her wolf purred inside her, a soft, encouraging hum.
Treston swallowed, voice dropping to a tender whisper.
“Taunie… may I kiss you?”
Her eyes widened. “I—I’ve never been kissed before.”
He blinked, surprised. “Neither have I.”
She stared at him. “But you’re an Alpha. You could have anyone.”
He shook his head. “Not in Scarlet Moon. We don’t date. We don’t take lovers. We wait for our fated mates. Always.”
Her breath hitched.
“I have never laid with anyone,” he continued softly. “Never touched anyone the way I want to touch you. I am pure, Taunie. I saved every part of myself for the one the Moon chose for me.”
Her heart pounded so hard she thought he might hear it.
“Treston… I’m scared.”
He leaned in, forehead resting gently against hers.
“So am I,” he whispered. “But I want this. I want you. Only if you want it too.”
Her wolf nudged her from inside, warm and sure.
Taunie nodded.
Treston’s breath shook as he cupped her face more securely, his thumbs brushing her cheeks. He leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull away.
She didn’t.
Their lips met in a soft, trembling kiss — gentle, warm, full of wonder. It wasn’t rushed. It wasn’t demanding. It was two souls touching for the first time, recognizing each other in a way words never could.
When they pulled apart, Taunie’s eyes were shining.
“Treston…” she whispered, voice unsteady. “That was…”
“Perfect,” he finished for her. “Because it was with you.”
Treston was still holding her face in his hands, his thumbs brushing her cheeks as if she were something fragile and sacred. Taunie’s breath trembled, her wolf humming beneath her skin, urging her forward, urging her to trust.
“Treston…” she whispered, voice barely steady. “I don’t know how to do this.”
He leaned in, his forehead resting against hers, his breath warm on her lips.
“You don’t have to know,” he murmured. “Just feel.”
Her heart pounded so hard she thought it might break through her ribs. His scent — pine, smoke, and something uniquely him — wrapped around her, grounding her and pulling her closer all at once.
“Are you sure?” she whispered.
He smiled softly, eyes dark with emotion.
“I’ve never been more sure of anything.”
She nodded, barely.
Treston inhaled shakily, then tilted her chin up with gentle fingers. He moved slowly, giving her every chance to pull away. She didn’t. Her wolf pushed her forward, warm and insistent.
Their lips met again — but this time, it wasn’t soft or tentative.
It was fire.
It was recognition.
It was two souls crashing into each other after a lifetime apart.
Taunie gasped softly against his mouth, and Treston deepened the kiss instinctively, his hand sliding to cradle the back of her head. She leaned into him, fingers curling into his shirt as if she needed him to stay close, needed him to anchor her.
The kiss grew deeper, richer, more consuming — not rushed, not frantic, but full of longing and hunger and the kind of connection that made the world fall away. Their breaths tangled. Their hearts raced. Her wolf purred, pushing warmth through her chest.
Treston pulled back only when they were both breathless, foreheads pressed together, chests rising and falling in sync.
Taunie’s lips tingled, her cheeks flushed, her eyes wide with wonder.
“Treston…” she whispered, voice shaking. “That felt… I don’t even have words.”
He cupped her face again, brushing his thumb across her lower lip, his own breathing uneven.
“That,” he said softly, “was everything I’ve waited my whole life for.”
Her eyes widened. “You really never kissed anyone before?”
“Never,” he said. “I told you — in Scarlet Moon, we wait for our fated mates. No dating. No flings. No touching. No one shares a kiss until the Moon chooses.”
She swallowed hard. “So I’m… your first.”
“And my last,” he said without hesitation. “My only.”
Her wolf purred again, louder this time, filling her with warmth.
Treston leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, then her cheek, then hovered just above her lips again — not taking, not demanding, just savoring.
“You are worth every year I waited,” he whispered. “Every lonely night. Every unanswered question. You were always the one.”
Taunie’s eyes filled with tears — not of pain, but of something she’d never felt before.
Belonging.
Safety.
Cherishing.
“Treston,” she whispered, voice trembling, “I think… I think my wolf loves you already.”
He smiled, eyes soft and fierce all at once.
“Then she and I agree.”
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