Torn Between Two Moons

Chapter 8

CHAPTER EIGHT

The kiss took her by surprise.

He kissed her just as he had fought, with a fierce boldness, his lips claiming hers with an intensity that left her breathless. His tongue swept in, possessing her mouth with an unyielding passion that made her heart race. It was a kiss that surrendered his senses, melting her senses and doubts away, and leaving her soul surrendering to his. It was a kiss that declared ownership, that staked claim, that warned all those who dared approach: this one belongs to me.

Time lost all meaning as they stood there, locked in a passionate embrace that spoke of untamed longing. The air was heavy with desire, thick with the scent of wanting. His hands, strong and sure, cradled her face, sweeping her soft hair, holding her captive as he explored the depths of her mouth.

She could smell his desire for her, she could feel it in the way her kissed her turbulently. His hands moved cupping her face. They broke away breathless, staring deep into eye other's eyes, she drank into his, sank deep within his storms of desire. She was sure he could see the same intensity, feel the same burning desire from her eyes.

Quick as a flash, he twisted like a snake, and since she was still off balance, Natasha couldn't react fast enough. Within a fraction of a second, Natasha found herself on the floor, with him atop her, their positions reversed.

He looked at her smiling, then leaned in to her ear and whispered, “I won.”

At that moment, his breath hot on her ears, she felt the almost overwhelming desires of continue kissing him and punching him, maybe both.

After about two hours, and five more training fights, three of which she won, Natasha returned to her room. She took a quick shower, letting the cool water wash away all the sweat and …...... other things from her practice.

After the shower, Natasha threw on a blue dress, courtesy of Ashier, and lay on the soft feather bed, staring at the white and gold ceiling.

With nothing for her to do, except train, but she had had enough of that for today, Natasha's emotions raged within her.

First was her mother, the hatred of the Arnia werewolves still burned deep within Natasha for what they did to her mother, how their Alpha had just ruined her life, let her die, wretched and killed by his followers, he had to pay, he had to pay in blood, and Natasha would ensure he did, even if it was the last thing she did.

But then her mother's words from the dream came back to haunt her. Let go, my daughter, let go, and enjoy the beauties of life, But how could she? How could she let them all walk the earth, especially after what they did? No, they must be wiped off the face of the earth.

Then was Ashier, who seemed able to tie her head into knots without even trying. She felt something for him, something that demanded that she throw herself into his arms and fill his face with kisses, consequences be damned. Is this love? Natasha thought, then shook her head, love existed only in fairy tales. She had no place in a fairy tale.

Still, she couldn't get him out of her head, it was a new desire that almost overwhelmed her desire for revenge, what was wrong with her? She remembered the way his face formed when he smiled, the way he walks, calm and confident, like a king in his realm, his laugh, strong and free like an eagle in flight.

She remembered other things too. She remembered the feel of his lips on hers, soft and powerful, like a flowing river threatening to sweep her away, the way his tongue explored her mouth, the hunger that filled him as he kissed her, and the hunger she returned.

Natasha shook her head, hard, trying her best to clear it of images and thoughts of Ashier, but it was to no avail. In an attempt to clear her head of Ashier, she found herself thinking of Riven.

He was hot, she admitted though she won't say it to his face, in an unconventional type of way. With his black hair and broad shoulders, he should have no shortages of girls. Natasha wondered where he got his scar though, maybe somewhere cool like in a fight between werewolves, but Natasha suspected it had something to do with that mysterious past Ashier mentioned.

Natasha sized up Riven, he seemed he could hold his own in a fight, he would need to, and after all, Ashier did invite him, and he wouldn't do so for someone that was dead weight.

Very soon, Natasha found herself admiring Riven, with his intellectual eyes that spoke of secrets, and the calm and quiet way he moved, he was like her, a creature of the shadows. A herald of the night.

Natasha stopped, then groaned loudly. This wasn't fair, how was this happening for both guys. Unable to clear her head, Natasha stood up and left her room.

The house was large, and Ashier hadn't technically told her to stay in her rooms, and as the people said, whatever isn't banned, is permitted.

Natasha wandered for a while, looking and observing the diverse artwork that decorated the walls, the custom made furniture, the high tech gadgets, the owner of this place must be a billionaire, at least. Not for the first time Natasha wondered who exactly Ashier was.

After some time, Natasha found herself in front of two large wooden doors that looked like they were older than some other parts of the house. Atop the door was the word 'LIBRARY' written.

Natasha smiled, even as a child she had always loved books, they were the perfect thing to take her boredom away.

She moved, and opened the one of the large wooden doors with a creek, she entered, the room was a bit dark, and it took a second for her eyes to adjust. She could read just fine in low light, a benefit of werewolf blood.

She moved and stopped, what she had taken to a large chair, turned out to be, in fact, Riven.