BE MINE: THE FAKE LUNA'S PRICE

SEVEN

VERGIL:

“Oh, f**k, Vergil…” My name escapes from her throat in a breathy moan, sending a pulse to my c**k, which is buried deep in her soapy core as she rides me gracefully.

The sheets are soft beneath me, and my hands are on her bare hips, guiding her waist. The hotness of her beautiful body seeps into my palms as she moves above me in torturous circles, her hair tilted back, allowing me to get a view of her perky t**s. My hands slide up, cupping one of them as my breath becomes harsh and uneven.

Her nails dig into my chest, causing a groan to leave my mouth, and I grip her harder, thrusting in to meet her. Her thighs clamp around me, and her hair falls forward, brushing my cheeks. Then I lower her gently, allowing her breasts to graze my chest. She plants hot kisses down my neck, moaning into my ears, sending me over the edge.

I completely lose it, allowing her to take control as she grinds over and over, pleasing my c**k until I feel the rush crawling up my spine, building in my gut. My entire body tightens beneath her, and my breath comes out in gasps. I’m too close, but I do not want this to end. She feels too good.

As soon as the release walks its way up my d**k, she leans in.

“I thought you said no intimacy,” she whispers, and my heart stops as my body shudders in the best orgasmic release.

“What—” I gasp, pulling up the hair as the familiarity of the voice strikes me.

Lily’s face comes into view, and panic surges through my chest. She presses her hands to my chest, and I find myself falling into an empty black hole. Then suddenly, I jolt awake, body covered in sweat with a strangled sound stuck in my throat.

My eyes snap open to darkness, and the only light around is the pale stream of sunlight from the curtain. Quickly, I reach for my bedside lamp, turning it on to see Lily is fast asleep on the bed opposite mine with her back to me and her silk nightwear hugging her curves. I feel a pulse jump in my d**k, causing me to lift the sheets to see the mess in my pants.

“Not again,” I mutter under my breath.

It’s been two days, and both nights I have had only s*x dreams about her, waking up with an orgasm each time, feeling weak and humiliated because of her.

“I need to find a solution to this,” I say to myself, getting out of bed to clean up my mess.

The water from the shower hits my face in violent spurts as I try to hold back the storm raging in me. I hate that I woke up like this again, hard with my f*****g sheets soaked because of her. Now I am here, washing off the c*m from my body on the morning of my father’s funeral like it means something to me, and like I f*****g owe him this ritual.

I don’t, because the old man never really liked me, and I spent my years trying to fight for his approval. I let the water trail down my jaw, my breath tight as flashes from my childhood come back.

The year Mathew and I turned ten rushes through my mind. I had just turned ten, and like every alpha male child, I was supposed to be given a ceremonial sword as one supposed to be the next alpha, but my father deprived me of that.

“You can never be king.” His words echo vividly, like it were just yesterday. Mathew’s birthday was a month later, and that day he threw a grand feast, handing him the sword.

He didn’t even care how I felt as he handed him the sword meant for me, like I wasn’t the older one, but because Mathew’s mother, Marilyn, was his “one true love,” he believed Mathew was the golden child, while my mother was a curse for showing up late as his mate, dying shortly after my birth and leaving him a burden like me.

Mathew, spoiled and loud-mouthed, was barely able to hold a dagger, to talk of a sword, without dropping it. He didn’t even want it, and he asked for a flimsy toy, but my father forced him to hold on to it.

When I turned fifteen, I remember listening in on the conversation with him and one of the elders.

“Mathew is weak, and it is clearly a sign from the goddess that he isn’t fit to be king. He cannot even beat an omega in a mock battle. If he goes to war, he will die.”

My father got angry, banished the elder, and on that day, he stormed into my mother’s room, destroying everything that was left to preserve her memory. He set the room on fire, and he didn’t care about my pleas and cries.

I refused to leave the room to save something from the fire, and when my stubbornness was reported, my father didn’t care.

“Let him go with her if he must.” His words echoed vividly.

Beta Jaxon, Elena’s father, dragged me out of the room, and I barely grasped anything but my mother’s diary to remind me of her. I cried myself to sleep that night.

Father became hard on Mathew because of his quest for Mathew to succeed him, and Mathew started smoking before seventeen from all the pressure. As the years progressed, he began gambling, and even having affairs with women in the pack.

One time, he had a scandal with a gamma’s wife, but my father paid the man off, sweeping it under the carpet. It got worse after the passing of his mother, who was the sole anchor of his problems, letting him know I wasn’t his real brother, and that the throne belonged to him.

Meanwhile, I trained. Led pack missions. Filed council briefs before I was even twenty, and that was when it started sinking in that I was his only hope. When we turned seventeen and Father realized Mathew was of no use, he turned against him. Then he finalized the rule, which states that only the heir from the alpha’s true mate can rule the pack. At seventeen, Mathew left home and returned three years later, stronger. Rumours had it he got his powers from dark magic, but I didn’t care, as I was stronger, but mateless.

My father reminded me of what to do, staying by my side, and I decided to take advantage of that, knowing he probably didn’t love me, but who cares? I get what I deserve. He changed out of panic of his throne being in danger, so why do I have to f*****g pretend he cared about me? This is all politics, and I have to play well too.

My eyes burn red as I stand in the mirror after my shower, and I know I have to make a decision. I cannot fall to the weakness of lust because I can lose the throne at any time. In that moment, I make a decision, not caring if it hurts Lily’s reputation or not.

LILY:

Someone who hasn’t tasted power would doubt it is the best feeling in the world. My quiet game of seduction has worked perfectly for two days now. Pretending to be asleep this morning after hearing Vergil moan my name in his sleep leads me to actually sleep off, and when I wake up, I find the bed bare. Jumping out of bed, I put on a robe and storm out into the corridor, where I spot the maid I encountered two nights ago walking towards me.

“Good day, Ma’am,” she greets in a polite tone. “Alpha Vergil sent me to help you dress for the funeral.”

“Where is he?” I ask immediately.

“He left a few minutes ago.” My eyes widen as she says this.

“Bastard,” I mutter under my breath, not minding if she heard or not. My fist clenches at my side as I know the implication of what he has done, and I can already imagine the headline from reporters on his arrival.

“ALPHA VERGIL SPOTTED WITHOUT BRIDE. COULD THERE BE TROUBLE IN PARADISE?”

Worse, this does more damage to me than him.

“Ma’am, the ceremony will start in an hour, so you need to…” I put up a hand, cutting her off.

“What is your name?”

“Selene,” she says quietly.

“Help me dress.” I walk back into the room and Selene follows me. In no time, I am dressed in a ceremonial Luna gown, which is fit for a funeral. She brushes my hair and helps with the rest of the updo.

“I’m going to kill him,” I mutter under my breath, staring into the mirror. “I swear to the goddess, Selene, I’m going to rip his head off when I see him.”

She stares at me through the mirror without words.

We hear the opening of the gates at that moment, and I jump out of my seat, not minding the lipstick smudging on my face, hoping he has changed his mind and returned to spare me disgrace. When I step outside, I spot a fleet of black cars in the compound, but as the door opens, Alpha Olsen of the Grey Hound Pack steps out. I recognize him instantly from school. We were classmates at the university and Olsen was a darling—impossibly handsome in a brooding way, with sharp cheekbones, silver-streaked dark hair, and frozen blue eyes.

He looks up and sees me standing there. I rush back into the room.

“Hurry!” I command Selene, who hurries with the lipstick, then I rush out of the room and down the spiraling stairs, where I meet Olsen in the living room.

“My lady,” he says in his deep voice. “I came by to pay my respects to Alpha Vergil before the ceremony.” His face is straight and serious, and I roll my eyes.

“Cut it, Olsen!” I groan, and his face cuts into a smile. I open my arms for a hug, but he hesitates. “Vergil is not here. He left early,” I say smoothly, and a thought crosses my mind.

“But he mentioned you might come, and he said you should accompany me to the funeral. As his Luna, of course.”

Olsen trusts me too much, so he doesn’t object.

“Then I shall do exactly that.”

A smile crawls up my face as I walk out of the house with Olsen. If Vergil wants to play games, then I will match his rhythm…