Alpha Logan's Vengeful Luna

Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

Trina’s POV

I must have slept off at some point, because the next time I open my eyes, it is dark already, the groaning of crickets serenading the dimly lit room. My eyes search the space, unsure of what I am looking for. Swinging my legs off the bed, the rich carpet caresses my feet softly, but it only makes me boil with anger, knowing that wealth exists in the Black Stone Pack -wealth that should have belonged to us, to my parents, and every other member of the Red Moon Pack.

I allow the anger to course through me as I pull myself off, my eyes already accustomed to the dark. Grabbing a bathrobe off the hook near the adjoining door, I walk out of the bedroom, stopping in the living area to check if there is anyone there before making my way out.

The silence of the packhouse resounds in every part of me, and I walk through the hallway on my toes, still clueless as to what I am searching for. That is what happens when you waltz into a pack without a concrete plan as to what to do when you get in. Honestly, a part of me wasn’t certain I would be lucky on my first attempt. So I channeled every part of me into succeeding at the first part that I failed to consider what would happen the moment I was finally in.

A bell sounds in the distance, and I halt at once, holding my breath and waiting for the whispers to pass. The moment it does, I resume my walk, going down the stairs into the huge living room. It smells of different wolves, and I stand in the middle of the space, closing my eyes and soaking it all in. I memorize the scent of every one of them that has walked through that space, reminding myself that they are my enemies and under no circumstance should I believe the laughter in their eyes, that given the chance, they will send a dagger into my heart without a second thought.

I tell myself that it doesn’t matter if I am Alpha Logan’s mate, or if he looks like the most beautiful god in existence, his aura greater than that of the hot model whose pictures graced my walls during my teenage years. He is still the son of my enemy, and that means he is my enemy as well.

My eyes flutter open and my feet resume their movement, carrying me through the space to the other side of the packhouse. I can view the kitchen from this point, its doors left open, and the white lights spilling into the living room. Everything looks pristine from where I stand, and I can’t help but imagine how it must feel like walking through those walls with the assurance that it won’t be snatched away when one least expects.

Pursing my lips grimly, I take the stairs leading to the other part, memorizing every turn I take so I can easily find my way back. I look at the unmarked doors, wondering what lay beneath them, and then the marked ones, where some of the warriors lay asleep while the others keep guard. I stop at the Beta’s room, the label shining on the door. I figure it must be new because from what I heard about Alpha Aiden, he allowed no one else to live in the packhouse to save him and his family. Logan must have changed that rule when he became Alpha, designating a part of the house to the warriors and to his Beta.

That doesn’t make him any less of an enemy.

Toying with the idea of pushing the door open and exacting my revenge immediately, starting with the Beta, I shake the thought away and move past the door, noting the door marked study and making a mental note to return there to find anything I can about my pack and the Black Stone Pack. Perhaps, Alpha Aiden kept something behind – something that can make me remember the pain they went through but at the same time, reveal the weakness of the pack.

I can’t do anything now, as it will be too early. I need to bid my time as carefully as I can and attack when they least expect when they’ve fully opened their hearts and minds to the one person they shouldn’t trust. I can already imagine the shock on their faces when they realize I have been their enemy the whole time and will stop at nothing until I burn the whole pack to the ground.

“You are quite far from my room,” a very familiar voice mutters from the shadows, arresting every part of me. His scent hits hard, teasing my nostrils and threatening to bring me back into submission. I take a deep breath, but it only makes things worse as his scent has mixed with the air, sending delicious ripples through me. “Do you sleepwalk?”’

I try to make out his face in the dark, but all I see is his form, tall and imposing, towering easily above me. “I don’t know,” I whisper, playing the damsel in distress once again. “I couldn’t sleep. Kept having flashes of someone chasing me. I decided to take a walk and somehow, I ended up here.”

I hold my breath amidst the sudden silence that takes charge. It is too early to get tossed out of the pack, but if for some reason, Logan has the slightest of doubts, this will be the end of me.

“Keep away from this part of the packhouse,” he mutters. “It's not accessible to guests and should stay that way throughout the period you live here. At least, until you regain your memory.”

I realize with a start the sudden hurt that washes through me when he says nothing about the fact that we are mates. He seemed willing to talk about it a while ago before I ran away from the conversation, but now, I can tell he is past it.

“Why are you not sleeping?” I ask before another silence can erupt.

“Because you were in my bed.”