Sioggard - The Moon Flower Luna

5.

They were discussing.

Pacing back and forth in her room in the vain hope of dispelling the restlessness that had filled her, Isadore made an effort to silence her fears.

It was ridiculous actually and she had no idea why, but she couldn't stifle the fear that was making her breath weaker.

Downstairs she could hear Kellan and Rhys arguing.

Perhaps the Rogue had managed to escape again?

It seemed impossible, however, wounded as he was and with all the warriors who had set out in pursuit of him.

Why had he come looking for her? Isadore couldn't bring herself to rest thinking about the pain in his eyes. Who had hurt him and why, despite the risk, had the Rogue come back on her trail?

She couldn't understand and frustration was destroying her.

And meanwhile, Uncle Viktor still hadn't shown up.

Of course, with Rhys and Kellan downstairs, Isadore wasn't really afraid of being in danger.

She had never really been, all her life she had been protected and safe, even more than Uncle Viktor, even more than Kellan.

Even more than Rhys.

In Sioggard, her name could open even the most locked doors because there was nothing she couldn't get just by asking.

Except what she really wanted.

And not because she was her parents' daughter, not because of uncle Viktor's position, or even because she had grown up in the castle more spoiled and pampered than the royal princes.

Feeling the air becoming silent, Isadore escaped her thoughts and hesitantly looked out the window, but downstairs she saw only indistinct shadows.

However, she was able to feel his presence, Rhys was there, she knew it, she felt him and she knew that he would soon come to get her.

But Isadore didn't want to go.

Holding back a sigh, she stifled the tears that moistened her eyes and went down to meet him.

“Princess.” Kellan was alone when she joined him in the vestibule feeling tired, because even just going down the stairs had cost her a huge effort.

"I don't want to go." she replied bitterly, without trying to hide the hostility that veiled her dull gaze.

“You can tell him but…” Kellan didn't bother finishing the sentence, but the gist was painfully clear to her.

It wasn't up to him anyway and they both knew it, all of Sioggard knew it.

Because Rhys considered her his property!

The privileges, the freedom she had enjoyed, the power of her name, the treatment she had been given, everything she had was because Rhys thought she was his mate.

Despite her despising him, despite her refusal, despite the curse that was consuming her soul.

And he had convinced everyone that she belonged to him, even her, despite the fact that Isadore had fought incessantly over the years to deny the bond that inexorably united them.

"Are you okay?" Noticing her pallor and the tiredness that pervaded her, Kellan worried because worrying about her had become a habit as well as a duty, even for him she was the princess of Sioggard, his future Luna.

"I'm dying." Isadore answered, treacherously satisfied, catching the shadow that veiled his gaze, because Kellan knew her condition as much as uncle Viktor and all the doctors who had tried to cure her over the years. "Tell him and also tell him to leave me alone." She added dryly then gathering her strength she gave him her back and went back upstairs to find refuge in her room.

Unlike in the past, however, she was unable to obtain any relief within the four walls that were so familiar to her.

Her room had always been a safe haven, her shelter where she could hide from the worries of the outside world and pretend to be what she wasn't.

That night, however, restlessness was getting the better of her agitated subconscious and when she could no longer bear the tension, Isadore gave up.

The night was silent and dark, just a few stars lit up the dull sky of that autumn that was about to end.

It was almost after midnight when she came down slowly wrapped in a shawl to drive away the cold that had penetrated her heart.

The house rang with the tension that kept her from falling asleep. Holding on to the handrail, Isadore descended the stairs listening to the sound of her labored breathing.

Kellan was no longer downstairs and the lights were out, he was gone.

Holding back a sigh, she advanced into the darkness with sure and decisive steps, ordering herself to ignore the heat that set fire to her heart.

She felt his presence so ardently that it overwhelmed her.

Choking back her tears, Isadore stopped fighting because she wasn't strong enough and surrendered to the force of her darkest feelings that exploded in her head with the force of a hurricane.

Rancor, hate, fear, anger, contempt, warmth, intense and confused feelings that invaded her uncontrollably, taking over.

But there was much more, so much more that she couldn't name it and those emotions over the years had prompted her to flee without stopping for a moment.

And she had run, for years and years, fighting against her heart and the emotions she refused to feel but could no longer run away.

Because she was dying and she no longer had any place to take refuge, to hide from him and from the pack that had rightfully elected her the future Luna because of him.

Rhys.

He remained indifferent seeing her arrive. Not even a flicker in his eyes dissipated his indifference.

Lying on the ground on his paws in the cold dark of the night, the silver eyes fixed on her face, he returned her distant gaze indifferent to the hatred that was reflected in it.

Isadore could not bear the force of his gaze and averted his eyes to hide the tears that glistened in them.

She wasn't going to cry, she told herself, clenching her hands into fists as she tried to regain control of her emotions.

Because, despite everything, Rhys had never demanded anything.

"Come inside.." she asked him in a whisper and then she turned her back on him and went back into the house, leaving him the choice of following her or not.

She turned on the lights and headed into the kitchen. With restlessness that didn't give her a break and Rhys' presence to disturb the stillness of the night, she would never be able to fall asleep anyway.

Isadore turned, sensing his closeness and sighed, finding him behind her shirtless, an inscrutable gaze in his silver eyes fixed on her.

"Did you find him?" she asked, trying to contain the resentment that, despite herself, she was unable to drive away.

It wasn't his fault, she knew, but if she hadn't been his mate, if he hadn't thought she was, Isadore wouldn't have had to leave her house tomorrow to follow him to the castle.

Despite the Rogue.

Rhys however, even more than uncle Viktor did not compromise when it came to her safety and Isadore had resigned because she knew there was no way to convince him.

She didn’t even try, she would have tried with uncle Viktor tomorrow but would never ask Rhys, she had sworn it to herself when he declared that she belonged to him.

And yet, despite her constant refusal, Rhys had always remained faithful to her and to himself, continuing to pursue her, protect her and stay by her side even if he had never asked her for anything.

He had never demanded that she accept their bond, had never blamed her for her refusals and never once had he forced his presence on her.

He had remained on the sidelines, indifferent to her hatred, protecting her from afar, perhaps waiting for the day when she would accept the bond that tied them together.

Isadore hated him, deeply, but she had never been able to stifle the sense of guilt that gripped her in his presence.

Because she was denying them both something they desperately needed and yet he had never blamed her.

Isadore was not as generous because, instead, she attributed many blames to him.

Rhys had taken away her mother, her home and now he also pretended to decide about her life.

There wasn't only hatred and guilt in her heart when she was close to him, however, in spite of herself, Isadore couldn't even suffocate the need, the desperate urgency she felt to be close to him, the desperate attraction that pushed her towards him.

She couldn't name the conflicting feelings that crowded her head and chest but that night, overwhelmed by tension and tiredness, another old and familiar emotion took over.

Compassion.

Rhys wouldn't have been happy to know this but over the years Isadore had often felt sorry for his efforts.

Seeing the intensity of the heat in his silver eyes every time he looked at her, her heart broke. She knew that agony well because she felt it herself every time she rejected him and refused herself the chance to be close to him.

For Rhys though, it was a thousand times worse because, having already shifted, he felt the bond much more than her and her refusal was weakening him day after day.

Isadore could still deny him and herself but Rhys couldn't because he was in fact the future Alpha and on his shoulders fell the responsibility of the entire pack.

“What was he looking for?”

“The rogue?” Isadore asked, confused as she looked back at him. “How would I know?” she answered in frustration because she really couldn't figure it out. "Did you find him?"

“Her.”

"What?" The Rogue had a really impressive size, not that she had seen many wolves in their natural state, but among those she had observed from time to time over the years, that beast stood out clearly. Huge as it was, she had assumed it was a male but she was wrong and was blown away because she had never seen a female wolf of that size. “So, did you find her?” She asked and stifled an irrational sigh of relief seeing the answer in his eyes. “Since when have Rogues circulated in Sioggard?” Isadore added and as she was asking him she noticed what she had missed before because she had looked at him with eyes filled with disapproval.

Rhys was tired.

"Sit down." she asked him, looking away from his impassive features.

Motioned to a chair and ignoring the probing look Rhys gave her she turned away from him and went down to the pantry. She rummaged through her stocks of herbs and roots until was able to find some hyssop, verbena and Amarilys petals to prepare a serum.

Rhys had finished buttoning his shirt and was sitting motionless when Isadore returned to the kitchen with shortness of breath because in spite of everything, she hadn't recovered perfectly yet and moving around was quite tiresome.

Holding back a sigh, Isadore pushed her thoughts away and concentrated on the herbs but first she hurriedly made a couple of sandwiches which she handed to Rhys without any comments.

Escaping his gaze once more, Isadore then turned her back to him as he ate because she wasn't ready or strong enough to handle the heat in his gaze and the guilt that consumed her.

Isadore knew she was selfish and spoiled and, apart from Uncle Viktor and Aileen, she had never been nice to anyone else.

She wasn't kind, instead she was cold and capricious, indifferent to the world around her because she was too concentrated on herself.

Had never cared about other people's feelings.

And with Rhys…with him she had been mean and cruel, rude and glacial, had avoided him whenever possible and over the years if they had ever spoken to each other it had never been in cordial tones.

The treatment Isadore had reserved for Kellan hadn't been much different as well but she had always been much more unfair to Rhys and yet, despite the sense of guilt, she couldn't regret it.

At the bottom of her heart Isadore didn't feel good and kind at all, she had always been too pampered and spoiled and, the too many attentions she had been given had inexorably marked her.

Not that she could blame Uncle Viktor for loving her too much because, as inclined as he was to give in to her whims, Uncle Viktor had always set limits on her.

It was Rhys who was to blame because, more than anyone else, he had always allowed her to be and do what she always wanted and at some point Isadore had become addicted to that too much freedom and power.

She felt guilty every time because she still had a remnant of conscience and had always felt sorry for him, but at the same time hated him too much to be generous towards him.

Even now that she was dying.

Especially now that she was dying.

"Are you okay?" Rhys asked, seeing her shoulders sag.

“Why, can you do something to make me feel better?” she asked him, heavily sarcastic. “I'm dying don't you know?” She added, giving him a dry look over her shoulders.

"You are not." Rhys replied and the cursed conviction in his silver gaze made her smile for a moment.

"You have to stop." she then replied, holding back a sigh as she returned to concentrate on the serum she was preparing for him. "I won't make it to the next eclipse."

“Isadore…”

"No!" she interrupted dryly, turning abruptly despite the pain that gripped her heart in a yearning grip. “I am not your f*****g mate!”

"You need to rest." Rhys replied calmly.

“I'm not and if I was I would reject you!” cried Isadore in frustration at being ignored.

"I know it."

“Then why are you doing this to me?” she asked, trying to fight back the tears that wet her cheeks against her will. “I hate you.”

"I know it."

"No, you don't." Isadore denied angrily, turning away.

"You have to rest."

“I'm dying, whether you and Uncle Viktor accept it or not doesn't change anything.”

“Isadore..”

“There is no Moon Flower.” she denied, sighing wearily, but didn't add anything else because she was already tired of discussing it.

Turned back to concentrate on the serum she was preparing, deeply inhaling the scent of herbs that spread in the air seeking distraction from her aching heart.

But with Rhys sitting behind her, there was no escaping the gravity of her thoughts and the bond between them that she was trying desperately to fight.

However, despite the tension in the air and the strength of her resentment she remained silent and Rhys indulged her, sensitive of her mood and ready to give in to her whims because his stupid heart would not have allowed him otherwise.

Wiping away a silent tear, Isadore shouted the cry that rose in her throat and drove away the stinging emotions that pierced her heart.

It didn't matter anyway, she told herself, because her fight would soon be over.

Rhys' gaze remained inscrutable when she handed him the serum she had prepared for him but Isadore saw a shadow passing in his eyes, feeling its enveloping scent.

"It's not poisoned." she informed him piqued. "Not that I couldn't..." she added with a hint of irony when Rhys stared at her intently. "You can sleep upstairs if you want." Isadore stated then before taking her leave.

Because she knew that he would stay.