The Luna of My Lover's Brother

Gained and Lost

MADELINE'S POV

--

"And this is your suite," Atlas opens the door to a large room, more like a space-- because there's a small kitchen, lounge room, dining table, and three doors inside. "Those two are the rooms, that one is the bathroom and the kitchen is fully stocked to whatever you'll need." His voice remains bland, his tone even. He turns to me, "I'll show you to yours." My mouth becomes dry, "I'm not staying here?" I ask surprised. "This is a guest suite, Madeline." And I'm about to become permanent to this pack-- to him. "Right," My tongue swipes over my teeth. "This way," Atlas gestures back outside of the room, and I glance at my parents, who are admiring the suite instead of looking at me. I think that they're purposefully ignoring my pleading look, like they knew it was coming.

I follow Atlas up a few flights of stairs, until there's a door in the way. My eyebrows raise as he pushes the door open, and it's like an entire house built inside with one large open plan living area. A large bed is pressed against the humongous windows, and right beyond the clear glass is an enormous balcony with furniture I can see from the door. There's a kitchen, couches, wardrobe that takes up an entire wall, and one door. "Is this all mine?" I ask flabbergasted. "Ours," He corrects, and my stomach flips and ties into knots. I stare at him bewildered. "I'm not sharing a room with you." I smile through the insanity, "It's expected of us, and I'm not trusting you anywhere else." He raises a brow at me, daring me to fight him about this, but I don't. I simply nod.

"Here's everything you'll need," He gestures to a closet, "We'll send someone to collect all of your things another day," He walks over to the closet, and he pulls out a fully midnight dress. It's black with a shimmer to it that I didn't think would be possible. "What about the midnight blue? Isn't that a tradition?" I stare at him dumbfounded. "Traditional, but not necessary." His shoulders lift carelessly. My eyebrows furrow together, "You'd dare break the tradition?" Atlas grins, his eyes swirling with purpose. "I'm changing it." Changing it sounds a lot like breaking it, but I'm not going to argue with a man that thinks he knows everything.

"What time?" I ask halfheartedly. "What?" His eyebrows furrow. "How long before my freedom is taken away?" I sneer at him. A muscle in his jaw feathers as it tightens. "You have two hours to get ready, little wolf." He beams like he's actually excited. "Stop smiling," My voice remains cold. "Why?" He smiles even wider, showing off that perfect white strip of teeth that makes me want to punch him square in the face. "Because you look a tad too excited to be ruining my damn life, that's why." I snap, eyes narrowing on him. His eyes roll like I'm overreacting, but this is what he wants, isn't it?

He wants me to suffer.

"I'm not ruining your life, little wolf." His shoulders slump, head slanting sideways all innocently. One thing I can tell is that he's a marvelous actor. "You are." I grit out. "I'm saving it," The determination in his gaze is unsettling. "If you genuinely think that, you're delusional." I turn my back to him, walking toward the double doors that lead out to the balcony. Pushing them open, fresh air seizes my lungs like I haven't taken a full breath since stepping foot into the suite. To think of it, I haven't. "Madeline," The way he says my name makes my skin crawl-- and not in a good way. It feels like roaches are running up and down my arms, my spine, my legs.

It's revolting.

"Leave me alone," I snap, "Fine, I'll see you at the ceremony." His voice drops low and deadly, and the only sound that follows is his feet pitter pattering against the floor as he leaves. Being alone is somewhat worse. I won't get ready, I won't wear that ridiculously gorgeous dress, and I just won't go to the ceremony.

The thought is barely processed when the door swings open, and five maids stride in, hair braided back tightly, wearing dark brown uniforms, and knee high socks. They spot me, line up, and simultaneously bow their heads in respect to me. I don't even have to ask, because I know what they're doing here.

I know the exact drill.

I stand, my shoulders slumping, "Just do what you have to do," I sigh.

--

Two hours feel like thirty minutes of hair pulling, air being removed from my lungs by the corset, and I think I'm missing half of my little toe that was shoved into these ridiculously uncomfortable heels, but here I am, dressed and on my way out of the mansion like home. There is no reason for me to want to gawk, but I can't help it as I step foot out of the house, and there's a walkway made out of stone, just for me. The dark black stone contrasts against the bright green grass, and if I weren't being watched, I'd make a run for it right now.

Each step is an echo of chains around my ankles and wrists, yet my eyes widen at every speckle of detail that has been put into this ceremony. There's gypsophila flowers everywhere, white ones and baby pinks. Small lights dangle from the trees, candles are burning with purpose. The tables are decorated in white cloth, black flowers mixed with bright purple ones set in vases as decorations, and at the very end of my walk, where Atlas is standing, waiting for me, is an arch that was built out of the most beautiful oak that's twisted into each other.

Everything is uniquely beautiful, and I hate that I secretly love it.

I notice our families upfront as I reach the last of the people, and I pat myself on the back for the fact that I have yet to begin shake with regret. Atlas holds his hand out to me, smiling ever so sweetly, but the sight of him makes my mind rage with pitiful, ruthless thoughts.

I dismiss his offer, and take my place in front of him, and my eyes roll when the elder tells us to join hands. "Do I have to?" I ask out loud, not caring about what anyone thinks. Every single person here will know that this is not my choice. "Yes," The elder snaps, snatching my wrist in a tight grip that aches as he yanks my hand towards Atlas. Atlas lets out a warning growl, and when my gaze snaps toward him, he's glaring at the elder-- not me.

I take his hand in hopes the awkwardness would fade with time, but all the while the elder preaches, Atlas is glaring at him like he's about to murder him if he finishes his job.

The elder's boring, dull toned voice drowns out as I zone out while staring at a specific darker pink flower right behind Atlas, that is until I'm startled with a slice to my palm, and blood pools into a chalice. I watch gruesomely as Atlas' blood mix with mine. Two different people, and our blood looks the same.

"Drink, unite, and kiss," The elder beams like he's announcing the greatest news that has ever been told. I watch with disdain as Atlas takes a sip, and my fingers shake as I take the chalice he offers. I sip, barely, and push it away. It's instant, the flow of power, the barrier that's broken between us, but the most sacred thing among us will be taking it's time-- the bond between a Luna and her pack, and the bond between us, Atlas and I.

"You may kiss your Luna," The elder chimes, looking directly at me with spite. I scoff, "No need," I turn, facing the crowd. I can hear Atlas sigh, but I ignore it as I stride off. Mom comes running first, beaming about how beautiful everything was and how pretty I look, but I don't stop-- actually, I walk faster when dad approaches and make my way to the drink's table, snatching a glass of whiskey that's clearly meant for the men, and gulp every last drop down in one go.

I will never, ever, speak to my parents again.

This is their doing, and they should know what consequences feel like.

I grab another drink, and stare at it before downing it.

Congratulations, Mom and Dad, you just lost a daughter.