The Luna-Maker's Last Kiss

Chapter 3

Serena

The holding cell had gone too quiet. Hours passed since Damien stormed out, leaving me with only the hum of the overhead light and the faint taste of iron in my mouth. My body still ached, my lips still burned. I curled on the cot, knees drawn to my chest, staring at the cracks in the concrete like they might swallow me whole. Silence was never safe. It was a warning. The kind of silence that came before storms broke. The door clanged open. I flinched so hard the chain on my wrists snapped taut.

Damien walked in first. His jaw was set, his grey eyes colder than steel. Behind him were two men in long coats stepped inside, and the air changed instantly. Even without glowing eyes, even without shifting, I knew what they were: wolves. Not the reckless kind who prowled nightclubs. Not the kind who brawled in alleys for scraps of power. No, these men moved like predators who’d already fed. They carried themselves with the smug calm of authority, the weight of centuries behind them. They were council Enforcers.

My blood turned to ice. The taller one was broad-shouldered, with hair silvered at the temples and eyes sharp as knives. His coat shimmered faintly where threads of silver had been sewn in like a warning. The shorter one was leaner, with a scar cutting through his cheek, his smile thin and cruel. They didn’t look at Damien first. They looked at me. “There she is,” the tall one murmured. His voice rolled smoothly and heavily, like oil on water. “The girl with the kiss.”

I almost couldn’t breathe. The shorter one’s smile widened. “Word spreads fast, doesn’t it? The Council is most interested.” I tried to shrink back into the cot, but the wall gave me nowhere to go. Damien stepped in front of me, blocking their path. “She’s in my custody. She’s not going anywhere.” The tall wolf arched a brow. “Detective Cross, is it? You misunderstand. She doesn’t belong to you.” His gaze slid past Damien, pinning me again. “She belongs to us. To the Council.” “No,” I whispered before I could stop myself. Both men smiled at that. Like they’d been waiting to hear me speak.

The scarred one leaned forward, his voice low and poisonous. “Tell me, little one, what does it feel like? To breathe power into a man with a kiss? To know you hold destiny on your tongue?” I squeezed my eyes shut. My mother’s voice echoed in my head. “Don’t let them find you, Serena. Don’t let them use you”. The tall one chuckled. “Her mother tried to hide, too. And where did that get her?” The words sliced me open. I forced myself to look up, glare sharp despite the tears burning behind my eyes. “Leave her out of this.”

The tall one’s smile didn’t falter. “But she’s already in it. You are her legacy. The last Luna-Maker.” The name dropped into the room like a blade. I hated it. Hated the way it wrapped chains around my chest. Hated that Damien now heard it too. His head turned slightly, eyes narrowing. “Luna-Maker?”

The shorter wolf’s grin deepened. “Ah, so you haven’t told him. Good. Secrets are sweeter when they unravel slowly.” Damien’s hand twitched near his holster. “You’re not getting her.” The tall wolf sighed, almost pitying. “Detective, you’re out of your depth. You’re human. Fragile. Do you really think you can stop us if we decide to take her?” Damien didn’t flinch. “Try me.” The air thickened, charged like lightning about to strike. I could barely breathe. My heart slammed against my ribs, begging me to beg them, plead for my life, but the words stuck. It’s because begging never worked. Not with men like this.

The scarred one tilted his head, eyes glowing faintly now, gold bleeding into his irises. “Look at her, trembling. She knows she belongs to us.” “I don’t belong to anyone,” I rasped. His grin sharpened. “You will.” Damien moved before I could. His stance shifted, blocking their line of sight, his voice cutting like a blade. “She’s under my jurisdiction. If the Council wants her, they can request her through the courts.” Both wolves laughed. Not loud. Worse, soft and cruel, like they’d heard the world’s funniest joke.

“The courts?” the tall one said, amusement dripping from every syllable. “We don’t beg from human judges. We are the law.” He took a step forward, his presence pressing against my lungs. I fought to stay upright, my knees weak. Damien’s hand went to his holster, slow, steady. “One more step, and I'll put silver between your eyes.” The scarred wolf’s smile faltered for the first time. His gaze flicked to Damien’s weapon. “You carry silver?” “Always,” Damien said flatly. The silence was heavy. Then the tall one chuckled, shaking his head. “Brave. Stupid, but brave.”

He stepped back. Slowly. The scarred one followed. “Fine,” the tall one said. “Keep her. For now. But remember this, Detective Cross: the Council always collects what it’s owed.” They turned and walked out, boots echoing against the concrete. The door shut with a hollow clang.

Damien

I kept my gun steady long after they were gone. Only when the silence stretched too long did I lower it, the weight heavy in my hand. She was still on the cot, arms wrapped around herself, trembling so hard I thought she might shake apart. The words they’d used, “Luna-Maker”, echoed in my head. She hadn’t denied it. Not really. I wanted answers. Needed them. But looking at her now, pale and broken, silver still faint in her eyes, I couldn’t press.

She wasn’t lying when she said she was in danger. And now I knew exactly how much. I holstered the weapon, turning to the door. “They’ll be back,” I said. Her voice was small, raw. “They won’t stop until they have me.” I looked at her. And for the first time, I didn’t see a suspect. I saw someone being hunted. “They’ll have to go through me first,” I said.