Kill The Luna

72

The massive iron doors swung wide, and it wasn’t the Alpha who stepped out, but the exact same grumpy guard from before. His large face was still incredibly tight, frozen in a stiff, uncomfortable expression as his eyes dropped to the dark, sticky stain covering the chest of my dress. He swallowed hard, his tough attitude completely melting away into visible nervousness as he cleared his throat. "I... I am deeply sorry, Luna Fedora," he stammered out, bowing his heavy head a fraction to hide his embarrassment. "It completely seems like you were telling the absolute truth. Please forgive my extreme rudeness from a moment ago. I was only trying to protect the room."

A bitter, angry heat flared in my chest as I stared down at the wet cloth clinging to my skin. "f**k you," I snapped baseline, not even bothering to look up at his face as I turned my body completely away from him. My eyes remained fixed on the dirty, ruined fabric over my chest, my fingers clenching into tight fists at the humiliation of it all.

As the guard stepped aside to hold the heavy door open, Ella leaned her head close to my ear, her voice dropping into a sharp, agitated whisper. "Fedora... why on earth did you just let that horrible nanny walk away like that?" she questioned, her eyes darting down the hall where the women were still giggling. "She was being completely disrespectful to your face! You should have had her locked in the dungeons!"

I let out a low, hollow breath, my shoulders slumping as the anger suddenly drained out of me, leaving behind a heavy layer of exhaustion. "But she didn't actually lie about anything, Ella," I whispered back to her, my voice completely flat and devoid of any life. I kept my eyes on the floorboards as we stepped forward. "She was absolutely right. I am not supposed to be living here in this palace. I belong somewhere else entirely, far away from all this supernatural madness."

Ella stopped her steps for a brief second, her features twisting into a deeply disapproving, stubborn look as she tightened her supportive grip around my waist. "No, Fedora, that is absolutely not true at all," she countered firmly, looking directly into my sad eyes with total seriousness. "No one in this world belongs to a specific, permanent place. We all only happen to find ourselves in whatever random corners destiny has decided to place us, and then we just have to keep moving forward with our lives. You belong right here if you choose to."

I let out a soft, weary sigh, shaking my head to dismiss her sweet words. "Stop trying so hard to make me feel better about this nightmare, Ella," I muttered, a sad smile touching the corners of my lips for a split second. "I am completely new to this pack, I am a total outsider, and literally everyone in this building knows it. From now on, I am just going to try my absolute best to stay entirely low-key. I will stay in my own private lane, keep my mouth shut, and completely avoid any kind of trouble for the time being."

Turning my attention back to the massive entrance of the suite, I nodded toward the shadows inside. "So, let's just go inside and get this over with," I stated, drawing in a sharp breath as we attempted to walk through the doorway together.

But before Ella could take a single step across the threshold, the massive guard shifted his weight and thrust his large arm out again, blocking her path entirely. He turned his cold, stern gaze away from me and locked it tightly onto my friend's face. "Not you," he commanded in a deep, booming rumble, pointing a thick, scarred finger directly at my chest. "The Alpha has strictly summoned only her to enter his presence today. You must wait outside."

My breath hitched in my throat, a fresh wave of panic hitting my stomach at the thought of facing the King completely alone on my shaky legs. I closed my eyes, breathing down deeply into my lungs to steady my racing heart before I looked up at the towering warrior. "Fine," I grumbled, stretching my bandaged hands out toward his bulky frame. "You are going to have to support me then, because I can barely stand on my own."

The guard didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and wrapped his massive, muscular arms carefully around my waist and thighs, lifting my light frame completely off the ground. I instinctively placed my heavy, bandaged hands over his broad shoulders to keep myself steady as he carried me across the threshold. I twisted my head back to look at Ella, who was standing in the hallway with a worried expression. "I'll be back out in just a little bit, Ella," I called out, trying to sound brave. "Go get yourself busy in the kitchen and make those delicious cakes we talked about earlier."

"Yes, Luna," Ella responded softly, her tense features softening as she gave me a respectful, obedient bow. She turned on her heel and immediately left the corridor, her boots clicking softly as she headed toward the lower floors.

The guard marched silently through the grand, luxurious outer rooms of the suite, his heavy footsteps echoing off the high stone ceilings until we finally arrived at the entrance of the private master bedroom. He pushed the door open with his shoulder, and the moment we stepped inside, my eyes locked onto the massive figure sitting at a large mahogany desk near the window.

There he was. Michael.

He was sitting with his back completely turned to us, and he wasn't wearing any shirt at all. My breath caught in my throat as I stared at his broad, muscular back. His dark skin was completely covered in a wild, intricate mixture of plenty of dark pack tattoos that twisted beautifully along his spine and shoulders. But what made my heart completely stop was the horrific sight littered right across his flesh. There were dozens of silver bullet holes still deeply embedded and scattered across his back. They were completely visible, angry, and oozing a faint dark liquid, yet he wasn't making a single sound. I stood there wondering how on earth he was remaining so incredibly calm and still with that much silver burning inside his body.

He just sat there perfectly rigid, his large hand moving a fountain pen silently across a piece of official parchment paper. Without even turning his head around to look at us, his deep, terrifyingly smooth voice cut through the quiet room, directing his words straight to the warrior holding me. "Just drop her on the large leather couch over there."

The guard nodded respectfully, moving quickly across the plush carpet toward the far corner of the room. He carefully dropped my weak body onto the soft, expensive leather cushions, making sure my bandaged legs were settled before he immediately turned around, marched out of the bedroom, and closed the heavy door firmly behind him.

The heavy silence stretched between us for a long, agonizing moment, the only sound being the soft scratching of his pen against the paper. Finally, Michael paused his writing, resting the pen on the desk as he slowly tilted his head back, his dark, piercing eyes burning with an unreadable emotion as he spoke.

"So... how exactly have you been, my little wounded girl?"