The Alpha's Contract Luna

Chapter 12

The floor gave way.

Roman caught Nadia around the waist and dragged her backward just as the stone beneath the basin split apart. A chunk of the floor dropped into darkness. The sound of it hitting the bottom never came.

Nadia grabbed his jacket. “Please tell me that was supposed to happen.”

“It wasn't.”

“Great. Just checking.”

Another c***k tore through the chamber. Dust rained from the ceiling, and the silver symbols carved into the walls began to glow.

Darius seized the leather-bound record from the ground and shoved it inside his jacket.

“Everyone needs to move!” he shouted.

Gideon stood frozen beside the basin, staring into the widening gap.

“Gideon!” Roman barked.

The older man blinked as though waking from a dream. He stumbled toward them, but something moved beneath the broken floor.

A hand emerged from the darkness.

At least, Nadia thought it was a hand.

It was too long, with fingers that ended in black, curved claws. Its skin looked like cracked stone, and thin silver lines ran beneath its surface.

Gideon made a strangled sound.

“That's impossible.”

The hand gripped the edge of the broken floor.

Then a voice filled the chamber.

“Mooncrest.”

Nadia's mark flared.

Pain shot from the base of her thumb to her elbow. She gasped and nearly fell, but Roman held her upright.

His eyes had turned silver.

Inside his head, Ares was no longer the calm, watchful presence Nadia had begun to recognize. The wolf was snarling, pushing against Roman's control with an urgency that made his thoughts difficult to separate.

Get her out.

“I know,” Roman muttered.

The voice below them laughed. It was a horrible sound, dry and hollow, like someone dragging chains across stone.

“The Alpha brings me the keeper's child. How thoughtful.”

Roman stepped in front of Nadia.

“You're not taking her.”

For a moment, everything went still.

Then the hand tightened around the stone.

“Victor's son.”

Roman's expression changed.

Nadia felt it even without seeing his face clearly. The name had struck somewhere personal.

“You knew my father?” Roman demanded.

“I knew what he stole.”

The chamber shuddered again.

Darius grabbed Gideon's arm. “We need to leave. Now.”

But Gideon wouldn't move.

His gaze remained fixed on the darkness. “It was supposed to be sealed.”

“Apparently, the seal didn't get the memo,” Nadia snapped.

She tried to pull away from Roman, but the pain in her arm intensified. Silver light crawled beneath her skin, forming delicate lines around her wrist.

The thing below the floor went quiet.

Then it spoke directly to her.

“Come closer, child.”

Nadia's knees weakened.

Not because she wanted to obey. The voice had reached into her mind, slipping past thought and reason. For one terrifying second, she couldn't remember why she should refuse.

The darkness seemed familiar.

Safe, almost.

Like standing in a room she'd known her whole life.

Come home.

Nadia took one step forward.

Roman caught her hand.

“Nadia. Look at me.”

She tried, but her eyes kept drifting toward the broken floor.

“Nadia.”

His voice was sharper this time.

“Tell me what you hear.”

She swallowed. “It wants me to come closer.”

“Then don't listen.”

“That's easy for you to say. It's inside my head.”

“I know.”

He turned her toward him, forcing her attention away from the darkness.

“Look at me,” he repeated. “You're in the sanctuary. You're holding my hand. The floor is falling apart, and Darius is probably about to give me a lecture about poor planning. You're here with us.”

Despite the fear tightening her chest, Nadia almost laughed.

“Your timing is terrible.”

“I've been told.”

The pressure inside her mind loosened.

She focused on Roman's face. His jaw was clenched, and the silver in his eyes flickered as though something was fighting to get out.

For the first time since she'd met him, he looked afraid.

Not of the thing beneath the floor.

For her.

The realization unsettled her more than it should have.

Behind them, Darius shouted, “Roman!”

A c***k had opened across the ceiling. A heavy stone slab shifted overhead.

Roman pushed Nadia toward the narrow staircase.

“Go!”

She didn't move.

“I'm not leaving you down here.”

“This isn't a negotiation.”

“Then stop making decisions for me!”

For half a second, they stared at each other.

Even now, with the chamber collapsing around them, Nadia could see the familiar argument taking shape in his expression. He wanted to order her out and deal with the danger himself. She wanted to remind him that she wasn't one of his employees.

Another chunk of stone crashed between them and the basin.

“Fine,” Roman said through clenched teeth. “Stay beside me. Don't let go of my hand.”

“See? We can communicate.”

He gave her a look.

They ran.

Darius led the way up the stairs, with Gideon close behind him. Roman kept Nadia beside him, moving fast enough that she had to concentrate on every step.

The voice followed them.

“You cannot keep me here forever.”

The silver mark on Nadia's wrist pulsed with each word.

“The first bond was broken. The wound remains. The blood must answer.”

Nadia stumbled.

Roman caught her before she hit the stairs.

“What does that mean?” she demanded.

“Keep moving.”

“Roman!”

“I don't know!”

The answer came out harsher than he intended. He glanced at her, and for a moment the anger in his face gave way to something more honest.

“I don't know, Nadia. But I intend to find out.”

That was enough to get her moving again.

They reached the upper chamber just as the staircase behind them began to crumble. Darius shoved Gideon through the doorway, then turned to help Roman pull Nadia up the final steps.

The moment they crossed the threshold, the sanctuary shook so violently that Nadia slammed into Roman's chest.

He wrapped an arm around her.

For a few seconds, neither of them moved.

Then a deep, grinding sound rose from beneath the floor.

The doorway behind them sealed itself with a flash of silver light.

Silence followed.

Not ordinary silence. The kind that comes after an explosion, when your ears ring and your mind hasn't caught up with what your eyes have seen.

Darius bent over with his hands on his knees.

“I would like to officially recommend that we never come back here.”

“Recommendation noted,” Roman said.

Gideon sank onto a broken stone bench. His face had gone grey.

Nadia pulled away from Roman and examined her wrist.

The silver lines were still there.

They had spread farther than before, forming a pattern that resembled the crescent symbol from the chamber. At its center, a tiny mark glowed beneath her skin.

She rubbed it with her thumb.

Nothing changed.

“Is this permanent?” she asked.

Roman looked at her wrist. “I don't know.”

“That's becoming your favourite answer.”

“I'd rather tell you the truth than invent something that makes you feel better.”

She looked at him. “Good. Keep doing that.”

Darius straightened and pulled the leather-bound record from his jacket. Dust covered its cracked cover, but the book appeared intact.

“Whatever happened down there, this is what Elena wanted Nadia to find.”

He opened it carefully.

The first page was still visible, though several lines had faded. Nadia leaned over his shoulder.

The words about the first Alpha's broken bond were followed by another passage they hadn't seen before.

The Hollow Alpha was not born hollow. He was made so when the bond that held his wolf to his mate was severed by those who feared what they could not control.

Nadia read the sentence twice.

“Someone broke his mate bond on purpose?”

“That's what it says,” Darius replied.

Gideon finally lifted his head.

“The council's version of the story claims the first Alpha became dangerous because he couldn't control his wolf. They said his mate died, and grief destroyed him.”

“Convenient,” Nadia said. “A dead mate. A mad Alpha. No one left to question the official story.”

Gideon didn't argue.

Roman took the book from Darius and turned to the next page. A section had been torn out near the binding, leaving rough strips of paper behind.

“Something is missing.”

“Or someone removed it,” Nadia said.

Gideon looked away.

Roman noticed.

“Gideon.”

The older man pressed his lips together.

“How much do you know?”

“I know what the council preserved in its records.”

“That's not what I asked.”

Gideon stared at the torn page. “The old agreement was never only about protecting the Mooncrest heir. It was also about keeping the Hollow Alpha imprisoned.”

Nadia felt cold despite the dust and the exertion.

“You knew what was down there?”

“I knew there was something sealed beneath the sanctuary. I didn't know it was still conscious.” His voice faltered. “No one did.”

“Then why did you follow us here?” Roman asked.

“Because the council sent me.”

Darius's expression hardened. “To watch us?”

“To make sure the sanctuary remained sealed.”

“And did they tell you what would happen if it opened?”

Gideon said nothing.

That was answer enough.

Roman closed the book.

“Who else knew we were coming?”

“Alistair. Two other council members. Perhaps more.”

“And you didn't think to mention that before we walked into a trap?”

“I didn't know it was a trap!”

“Enough,” Nadia interrupted.

Both men turned toward her.

She was tired, frightened, and beginning to hate the way every conversation about her life seemed to happen as though she weren't standing in the room.

“My mother's message told us to find the first record. We found it. Something down there recognized my family, knew Roman's father, and wants me for reasons nobody understands. So we have two choices. We can stand here arguing about who knew what, or we can get somewhere safe and work out what this book is telling us.”

Roman studied her for a moment.

Then he nodded. “We're leaving.”

This time, Nadia didn't object.

They made it outside just as the last of the daylight disappeared behind the trees. The forest was quiet, but the silence felt different now. Nadia couldn't stop thinking about the voice beneath the sanctuary, or the way it had made her want to obey.

Roman helped her into the SUV. Darius took the driver's seat, while Gideon sat in the back beside the record.

Once the doors were locked, Roman turned to Nadia.

“Are you hurt?”

“Nothing that requires a hospital.”

“That's not an answer.”

“It's the one you're getting until I have a chance to breathe.”

He accepted that, though his eyes stayed on her wrist.

Nadia followed his gaze.

“Roman, what did it mean when it mentioned your father?”

His expression tightened.

“I don't know.”

She raised an eyebrow.

He exhaled. “My father spent years investigating the old Alpha and the Mooncrest family. He never told me why. I thought it was history he'd become obsessed with.”

“And now?”

“Now I think he knew the prison was weakening.”

Nadia looked out at the dark trees passing beyond the window.

“Did he know about me?”

Roman hesitated.

That small pause hurt more than she expected.

“I believe he did,” he said. “And I think he was trying to protect you.”

“From the council?”

“Possibly.”

“Or from whatever is down there?”

“I don't know.”

She leaned back against the seat, exhausted. “You really need to find a new answer.”

“I'll work on it.”

For a while, neither of them spoke.

Then Nadia felt a faint warmth beneath her skin. The silver mark glimmered once, almost too softly to see.

A voice brushed the edge of her thoughts.

Not the Hollow Alpha's deep, terrible voice.

This one was quieter. Familiar.

A woman's voice.

You opened the door, Nadia.

She sat upright.

Roman turned immediately. “What is it?”

Nadia stared at her wrist.

“My mother,” she whispered. “I think I just heard my mother.”

The warmth vanished.

And beneath the leather cover of the record, hidden between its final pages, something began to glow.

A name appeared in silver ink.

ELENA MOONCREST.

Beneath it was a single sentence.

The keeper must return before the Hollow Alpha is free.

Nadia looked at Roman.

Neither of them spoke.

They didn't need to.

Whatever had awakened beneath the sanctuary had not finished with her.

Not even close.