Chapter 7
1289 Words
---Luna---
The moment Nezyn stepped forward, the air seemed to grow heavier. His presence filled the clearing like a storm pressing down on the earth, demanding attention and obedience. He stood taller than any of the others, his skin the darkest shade of violet, almost black beneath the shifting sunlight. Four more warriors hovered behind him, all broad and unyielding, their hair loose and gleaming with streaks of midnight.
He called himself her chosen male, his deep voice carrying the kind of certainty that left no room for argument. Yet for Elise, every syllable scraped against her skin like claws. She wanted to laugh at the absurdity, to dismiss him outright, but the defiance rose hot in her chest instead.
Beside her, Vallyn stiffened, his stance deceptively calm, though his eyes burned like banked embers. Axoh’s expression was softer—sad, almost resigned—but he said nothing, waiting for her choice.
Her heart hammered. She hadn’t asked for this—hadn’t asked for warriors to claim her, hadn’t asked for their alien words of possession. And certainly, she hadn’t asked for him.
Vallyn was hers. Protector, shadow, comfort. She hadn’t realized how much she leaned on him until the thought of losing him sparked panic in her lungs.
Her lips curled into a slow smile, one she had perfected after years of masking anger behind a calm exterior. “Vallyn is my protector,” she said firmly, her voice carrying over the hushed camp. “He is not leaving. I will not release him.”
The way Nezyn’s jaw clenched, the faint narrowing of his eyes, told her he wasn’t used to being denied. He spread his arms, broad and powerful, as if expecting her to step into them, to surrender herself. The very thought sent heat rising in her throat—not attraction but indignation, fury.
She caught the flicker in Vallyn’s gaze then, that rare twinkle of humor when she added softly under her breath, “And this warrior is… pee.”
Axoh’s lips parted, aghast, but Vallyn’s shoulders shook once in suppressed laughter. He understood. He always did.
Nezyn, of course, did not.
“I am your chosen,” he insisted, his tone clipped. “You have no need of lesser protectors. With me—and with the warriors of Clan Zaali—you are safe.”
Safe. The word tasted bitter. Elise wanted to spit it back at him. Safe with someone who dismissed her choices? Who looked at her as though she were a prize to be won, not a woman with a heart that beat its own rhythm?
The other four exchanged glances, a silent storm brewing behind their stoic faces. One of them, gentler in his manner, stepped forward and pressed his two left hands over his chest. His voice, though accented, carried a softer cadence. “I am Nvaa, also chosen. If you wish Vallyn to remain, then he stays. Your will is our command.”
Elise exhaled, a rush of relief spreading through her. Finally—someone who listened. Her shoulders straightened. “Then it is settled. Vallyn stays.”
She didn’t wait for Nezyn’s reaction. Instead, she turned gracefully, chin lifted, and walked back toward the hut as if the ground beneath her feet belonged to her. Inside, however, her stomach coiled with nerves. She had just stood against the largest, most imposing male she had ever seen, and though her face betrayed nothing, her hands trembled the moment she was out of sight.
Axoh followed her with a worried glance. “Do not be upset, Luna,” he murmured, his voice tender as always.
She forced a smile for him. “I’m fine.”
But she wasn’t. Not really. Every instinct in her screamed that Nezyn would not accept her refusal so easily. And beneath the surface of her anger simmered another truth she didn’t dare name—fear.
The night passed slowly, Elise curled within the makeshift nest Axoh had prepared. She hadn’t stepped out after their tense meal, choosing instead to remain tucked within the shadows, away from Nezyn’s burning stare. Yet even in solitude, her thoughts wouldn’t quiet.
Vallyn slipped into the hut sometime later. He kept to the far side, silent, his broad back to her. The distance between them felt like a chasm, and it made her chest ache. He didn’t look at her, didn’t speak, didn’t dare reveal the easy familiarity they had begun to form. Not under the scrutiny of the others.
Loneliness pressed in on her, though he was only a few feet away.
When dawn came, fog cloaked the camp like a veil. Elise stirred, her translator flashing orange, its charge waning. She sighed, rubbing her eyes before slipping to the door. She opened it carefully, hoping not to disturb anyone.
But a shadow shifted behind her. She spun, heart leaping, only to see Vallyn standing there like a phantom in the mist.
“Vallyn,” she hissed, pressing a hand to her chest. “You scared me half to death!”
His lips twitched, the barest hint of a smile. “Luna… pee?” he asked in halting English, his voice low and earnest.
Despite herself, she laughed softly. “Yes, lucky I didn’t right here on the floor.”
They stepped outside together, and though two of the chosen watched her closely, Elise ignored them, focusing only on the steady presence at her side. Vallyn moved like a shadow—swift, silent, always near. And though he rarely touched her, she felt his nearness like a constant tether.
When she returned, Nezyn was waiting. Always waiting. His gaze clung to her with a hunger that made her skin crawl.
“Walk beside me to Clan land,” he declared. “As your highborn chosen, I will bear your mate marks proudly. Allow me to be your favorite.”
Her stomach twisted. Favorite? Mate marks? His arrogance curdled into something sickening.
“No,” she said sharply, her voice carrying steel. “You will not be my favorite. I will choose my own, when the time comes. Not before. Not by force.”
She stormed back to the hut, though her chest ached with unspoken dread. Axoh’s pale face awaited her inside. His voice was barely a whisper. “Luna… he is the queen’s son. She will not allow you to choose otherwise.”
Her breath caught. Of course. Power. Politics. The game was rigged before she ever stepped onto the board.
But she wasn’t about to surrender. Not to Nezyn. Not to anyone.
Later, when her translator lay shattered in the dirt, Elise’s world tilted. The pieces scattered at her feet, fragile as her last link to understanding. Tears threatened, burning behind her eyelids, but she swallowed them back.
Nezyn’s smug smile was the final spark.
She rose, fire blazing in her veins, and jabbed her finger into his unyielding chest. “You are an arrogant bastard. If you think for one second that you can force me, you’re wrong. If you ever touch me, if you ever try to claim me, I swear I will end you.”
Her fist struck his chest. It hurt—like hitting stone—but she didn’t flinch. Rage gave her strength.
The other four bowed their heads, their postures uneasy. Nezyn’s smile only widened, as though her fury pleased him.
Elise’s heart pounded. What was happening? Why did it feel like she had stepped into the center of a storm, one that was only beginning to gather its strength?
And why, when her gaze flickered to Vallyn, did her chest ache not with anger but with something far more dangerous—something she couldn’t yet name?
- Writer
