HIS SCENT IS A MOON LIT LIE

Chapter Eight

Elara’s POV

I had heard about that moment quite a few times, where it felt like an out-of-body experience, watching a scene that never really belonged to you yet felt nestled somewhere in your bones.

It happened so fast that there was barely any time to slow down the events in my mind. One second, I was standing behind Jordan, my head snapping to the side where the growl came from, and the next, I was being pushed through the doors behind me, rough hands gripping my waist into an unfamiliar territory.

So, I did the one thing I knew how to do. I screamed.

“No!” My voice reverberated through the walls as I thrashed about, hitting the arms of the person who held on tight to me. They wouldn’t budge, no matter how hard I hit. No matter how hard I struggled.

“Let me go!”

“Bring her in!”

A female voice.

It made me stop. There was something about it. Something that made me think twice about disobeying. My back hit a couch unceremoniously, and my lips moved again.

“Sorry.”

He was right in front of me, a rueful smile on his lips. Or maybe that didn’t pass for a smile. It was more like a polite act, like he didn’t have any choice but to do that.

“What…”

“Don’t move an inch.” Her blonde hair came into view. She barely gave me a glance as she moved towards the window, standing on her toes and staring out. I couldn’t hear the growls anymore, but for some reason, at the back of my head, it felt like they hadn’t left.

Despite Jordan’s mother’s stern instruction, I pulled myself out of the couch. The person who had brought me in swiftly moved to block my path. He looked like Jordan, but his eyes were different.

Younger brother?

“Get out of my way,” I screamed, trying the most terrifying voice I possessed. But nothing changed. He just stood there, watching me like I’d grown funnier.

“You guys won’t believe I saw them from up there!” A younger version of the brothers ran down the stairs, his blonde hair bobbing with every action he took. Excitement was laced in his tone, bouncing off the walls as he reached the base.

“Jordan is crushing it!” he continued, stopping in the middle of the room. “That fucker will wish…”

“Isaac!” Jordan’s mother pulled away from the window. “Watch your tongue.”

That was when he saw me, the smile on his face faltering for a second but still present. “s**t!” he muttered under his breath. I wasn’t meant to hear that, but I did.

“Erm…” he raised his hands to scratch the corner of his head, and I wondered if they all did that. And then something changed in his eyes as he halted.

“You are Elara!” It wasn’t a question, because he seemed certain. The excitement returned to his eyes as he bounded over to my corner, pulling himself into the couch as well. I didn’t think this kid named Isaac had heard of the term “personal space.”

But for some reason, it didn’t creep me out. If the situation had been any different, if I weren’t so worried about Jordan still outside, I would have laughed.

“It is so nice to finally meet you,” he gushed, his eyes twinkling as he regarded me. “Jordan has not been able to keep quiet…”

“Isaac!” She pulled closer to us, her hand hooked on her waist. “Upstairs. Now! And don’t return until you get the instruction to.”

His face dropped as he pulled himself to his feet. “Okay.”

Nobody breathed until he was out of the room, the sound of his grumbling still echoing through the space.

And then, I moved. “I can’t be here,” I murmured, shaking my head. “I need to leave. My parents will be worried about me.”

Jordan’s mother scoffed, pulling away again. “We both know your parents aren’t the ones you are worried about right now.”

“You’re right!” I cried, crossing the space to meet her. “I am worried about Jordan. We can’t just leave him out with that guy. He is dangerous!”

She arched a brow. “Jordan can handle himself.”

“No, no, no!” I shook my head insistently. “You don’t get it. My mother has told me about Adrian. He is in some cult, and they do not think twice before staining their hands with blood. Jordan should not be alone with him right now.”

She angled her head, watching me from underneath her lashes. She was too relaxed, even though her son could probably be getting the beating of his life right now.

“Then you should have stayed away,” she sighed suddenly, rubbing her face with her hands. “You should have just…”

“Mom.” The boy who carried me in walked over to her side, placing a protective arm on her shoulders.

“I’m fine,” she whispered, turning into him. I thought I saw tears brimming in the corners of her eyes, but I was more confused than anything. What the hell was actually happening?

Jordan’s mother looked back at me. “You know what you are doing, don’t you? You came into the picture when … when…. I should hate you.”

“What?”

“Why are you here, Elara?” Her lips quivered as she spoke, and Jordan’s brother only pulled her in closer to his heat.

I didn’t know which was more surprising. The fact that everyone in this house knew my name or that she was blaming me for something I was yet to wrap my head around.

“If anything happens to my son, Elara,” she muttered, shaking her head subtly. “If anything happens to him…”

The door pushed open in that instant, and relief washed through me as he walked in. He was shirtless now, and in a pair of shorts that I was certain were different from the ones he had on when I saw him a few minutes ago.

But Jordan didn’t look at me. Instead, he walked up the stairs, only stopping for a fraction of a second, angling his head at his brother.

“Take her home, Corvin.”