Luna Athalia

8. In the Dead of Night

Athalia Marie Sylas

Athalia seethed as they returned to the pack house. How dare Remy just declare something so drastic in front of so many people? As if she didn't have enough to worry about with the rogues being released.

The rogue families hadn't taken the news too well. Many were furious that they were suddenly being chased out after being held captive, with nothing but what they were able to carry out with them. Athalia unfortunately did not have the resources to give them anything to help them leave - not even a spare junk car to get as far from them as possible. 

Some screamed, calling her a tyrant, a hypocrite, a monster. 

Others begged and cried, clutching their babies at the thought of having them branded.

Vincent practically had to fireman carry her out.

It was all too overwhelming and she had stormed off to her room without a word. Locking the door, she gave zero regard to the fact that that was supposed to be Vince's room as well. But he knew better than to bother her, opting to stay with his brother for the time being, hashing out specifics of the branding. 

Athalia shed her clothes, moving to the bathroom and running the hot water. All she wanted was to sit by herself for a bit before facing all of them again. It was her job and she was always willing to do what needed to. But the added stress of fighting her mate was tipping her over the edge.

She stirred up the tub with a cocktail of essential oils and bubbles, sinking in gratefully as the steam enveloped the bathroom. She allowed her mind to wander for once, taking off her bracelets to face her true emotions. It was a practice she had been trying to do for the past several weeks, ever since the ultimatum was announced. Athalia knew she could not keep bottling everything, waiting for it all to burst out in a fit. 

If it wasn't for these little moments of peace, she likely wouldn't have been able to push Remy away after he had kissed her.

Thinking of that kiss drove her under the bubbles, sinking below the water to hide her blush. Her heart fluttered as she remembered the feelings of his slightly chapped, full lips on hers, the way his tongue slid into her mouth. Her hand moved to her thighs, floating along the soft inner skin as she pictured his face. The love that shone in his eyes, without a single care for the implications of it all, made her chest feel like it was about to burst.

Feeling along the line that connected her thigh to her pelvis, her long fingers swept past the skin of her core, dipping within as she rubbed at the slight nub between her legs. Her breath hitched in her throat, eyes closing slightly as she tried to remember every inch of Remy's face.

Imagining the feeling of his hands on her, wondering what would have happened if she hadn't stopped him. She exhaled under the water, a bubble popping at the surface as she increased her pace, the warmth of the bath the closest she would be able to get to his touch.

Her other hand rose to cup her round breast, kneading the skin as she inserted her pointer digit between her folds. A soft moan left her lips as she rolled her head back, massaging the inside of her walls with the single appendage. The hand cupping her breast took the taut n****e between two fingers, rolling the pink bud as she slowly moved her finger and in out.

She imagined Remy's mouth on her, rolling her neck to the side now as she imagined the scrape of his fangs where her mark should be. Never had she wanted something so desperately than to be made one with her mate.

Suddenly her hands were not her own, fantasizing that of her mate's instead. Her pace quickened as her wet walls begged for a second finger, stretching her out just slightly more as she hooked them, rubbing at the spongy spot above her entrance. Breath hitched in her throat as she could hear the echo of his growl in her ear, telling her to hold still, telling her to wait for the right moment before unraveling.

Athalia could hear his deep tenor reverberating through her mind, flowing through her to the tips of her toes as she filled the bathroom with lustful moans. She pinched at her n****e, the sudden sharp pain drawing her closer to release.

Her imagination flashed once more to her mate, standing in front of her, tongue painting the walls of her mouth. Her mind found a sudden clarity, as if finally remembering exactly what she was looking for. His fiery scent filled her nostrils, the feral need to have him overtaking her brain. Ahh Remy~!

Her chest heaved as she lay back, her neck bent over the back of the tub as she fought for breath. The accusing hand escaping her and floating upwards in the waters as she finally relaxed.

Suddenly, a voice filled her head - his voice, clear as day and tone filled with mischief Well well well...

Athalia's head shot up frantically, fighting the headrush that came with it, What the hell? Remy??

Remy Samuel Bell

He had been sifting through applications for the upcoming Fighter competition. It was more or less just a formality - everyone was able to apply but all that mattered was what was shown in the arena. It was then that Remy felt the slightest tingle of a mindlink, so faint it almost felt like a fly was buzzing behind his ear.

He swatted by the back of his head, hoping to chase it away. But Wren lifted his massive head, tilting it to the side in curiosity, Is that?

Remy looked up, feeling the mindlink gnaw at his chest, pounding against the wall of his psyche in slow, thudding beats. It was odd, like someone was trying to reach him but the presence was unfamiliar. It was not any of his Fighters or the select few in the Union who had access to his mind. 

Wren padded about the confines of Remy's mind, sniffing about, I think its-

Ahh Remy~!

The smooth, velvety moan of his mate instantly emboldened him. The fabric of his basketball shorts shortening at the mere mention of his name flowing through his mind with such clarity.

His eyes turned an ink black as he willingly let his mindlink take over, the darkness of his consciousness suddenly filled with the presence of his mate. 

Athalia's aura in his mind was heavy and hot, an almost sticky feeling in the air as he sought her out. He could smell her scent - one of strong cinnamon with the slightest hint of cocoa and cream. It was a heartwarming scent, one that reminded Remy of a winter night spent inside.

But it was twinged with something else, a scent he remembered vividly. 

Her arousal.

When he had smelled it in her office just the day before, he was milliseconds from giving in and taking her right then and there. It was the most intoxicating scent that only served to drive him mad. If she hadn't pushed him away, hadn't looked at him with the biggest eyes, he probably wouldn't have been able to walk away from her.

But he felt her presence then, sitting alone in his apartment, her scent so heavy that it burned his lungs. Her voice called out to him, their souls so desperate for each other that it seemed to forcibly complete their mindlink. He didn't even know that was possible.

He felt her heartbeat beginning to slow, though still rapid in her chest as her muscles relaxed. He could feel the warmth of water and the remnants of her orgasm on his skin as if he was there with her. Hell, he could practically feel her heavily drooped eyelids as she reached a brief moment of pure relaxation.

Brief only because he couldn't help the thought, Well, well, well...

What the hell? Remy?!

Her voice was sharp in his head, filled with panic and surprise and barely tinged with relief. She had missed him, whether she realized it or not. He felt the same degree of comfort simply hearing her voice, no matter how unwelcome the tone was. Suddenly, the mindlink snapped closed, the faded feel of cool, wet metal on his wrists the only indication that she had closed herself off with those damned bracelets.

Remy groaned, leaning back in his chair in frustration. She was shutting him out yet again, just like she had been for years. Getting to his feet, he did little to think logically about his next moves. All he could bear to think about was his mate's slippery voice in his head and the tented fabric of his shorts that was refusing to go down.