SLUTTY WARRIOR LUNA

THE PRICE OF LIFE (Present Day)

My father stood there, a specter of my past wrapped in a designer coat, holding Jax’s life in the same hands that killed my mother. I looked at Jax, my loud, glittery, beautiful Jax; and saw him fading. The silver rot was turning his veins into lead.

“I’m going”, I said my voice barely a whisper. “I’ll go back to the estate. I’ll be the perfect daughter. I’ll be heir you want. Just…… give him the cure.”

“Roxy, no…..” Jax wheezed but his strength was gone, as the temporary cure Malakai gave him had already worn off.

The exchange was cold and transactional.

My father’s men moved with clinical precision, injected Jax with a shimmering gold serum that made him gasp. His colour returning in a sudden, violent rush.

In return, they snapped heavy silver-lined shackles onto my wrists. The metal bit into my skin, a cold reminder that my decade of freedom was over.

“A wise choice, Roxy, you were always too precious to waste on a dive bar” my father said, his hand coming up to stroke my cheek.

I flinched in response to his touch as if he’d burned me.

“I’ll come with you Rox,” Malakai said abruptly

“No!! Please make sure Jax gets home safe and sound” I pleaded. I could hear him nod in approval.”

I was led away, the sound of my footsteps echoing like a funeral march.

I didn’t look back.

I couldn’t let Jax see me cry. I had to believe that my life for his, was a fair trade.

The nostalgic feeling that came at the entrance of the Willow Estate made my stomach ache. They had stripped me of my lace, scrubbed the scent of the bar from my skin with soaps that smelled like expensive funerals, and dressed me in a silk slip that cost more than my life.

I paced the length of the room.

Every few minutes, my hands would go to my neck feeling the weight of the silver-lined collar they’d snapped on me. It didn’t just choke me, it choked my wolf too.

“Is he breathing? Did the serum work? Did I just trust my best friend with a stranger? Does he hate me now? Is he okay? Or did my father just lie to watch me crawl?” My mind raced uncontrollably.

The anxiety didn’t just make me shaky, it made my hyper aware. When you live your life as a werewolf and a worker of the night, adrenaline and arousal are two sides of the same coin.

My heart was thumping a frantic rhythm against my ribs.

I needed a distraction. I needed to feel something other than the crushing weight of being a prisoner in the same pack my father once ruled.

I gently lay on one side of the bed, raising my silk dress just enough for my panties to be visible. I slowly slipped my index finger beneath my panties slightly brushing my clits enough to make a slight moan escape my lips.

I flung my head back in derived pleasure. I massaged my clits in slow circles. My n*****s grew bigger and hardened under my touch.

“Ah, f**k, Yes” I moaned slightly to avoid attention.

I increased my pace as I fondled my already hard n*****s making them turn a bright pink.

“ahhhhh, yes ohh my f**k” I moaned loudly regretting why I hadn’t brought my vibrator on my death mission.

Suddenly the door to my suite opened. I didn’t turn around immediately, thinking it was just another faceless servant bringing a tray of food I wouldn’t eat.

“I told you, I’m not hungry,” I snapped, raising my head to lock eyes with whoever it was.

“Hunger comes in many forms,” Roxy. I find the most dangerous kind to be the one that starves the soul.”

The voice was like dark chocolate and crushed glass, smooth, deep, and carrying an authority that made my knees go weak before I even saw him. I turned, my breath hitching in my throat.

He sure wasn’t one of my father’s guards. He looked like he was in his late twenties, with hair like midnight and eyes that seemed to hold the shadows of the room. His charcoal shirt was unbuttoned at the collar and he looked power personified.

But there was a wildness in the way he looked at me as if he were seeing right through the silk slip to the predator underneath.

“Who are you?” I whispered, my skin prickling. The stress of the night, fear of Jax, and the sudden overwhelming presence of this stranger created a chemical explosion in my brain. I was vibrating with a need I couldn’t control.

“Someone who has been waiting a long time to see if the legends of the ‘Stray Princess’ were true,” he said.

I reached out, my fingers trembling as I grabbed the lapels of his shirt.

“I don’t care who you are,” I panted, my voice thick with a sudden desperate hunger. “Just make me forget. Make the world stop for five minutes.”

He didn’t hesitate. He grabbed my waist, pulling me flush against him. The heat radiating off him was immense. I could feel his bulge around the fly of his well-fitted trousers.

I tilted my head back, inviting him, and his mouth crashed against mine with a dominance that nearly stole the air from my lungs.

It was illicit. It was wrong. I was a captive and he was a stranger, but in that moment he was the only thing that felt real.

I led him towards the massive canopy bed, my hands frantically unbuttoning his shirt, needing skin to skin to quiet the roar in my head.

He moved with predatory grace as he pinned me to the silk sheets, slowly tracing his hands to my already wet p***y.

I let out a wild moan as he rubbed my clits and shoved both fingers in me at once.

“Ahh f**k, f**k that’s good.” I moaned loudly as he kept playing with my clits and sending my body into shock waves.

He held me engaged in a wild kiss and as we moved together, the words outside: The silver, The Sewers, The Betrayal, The fear faded into a blur of heat and friction.

He slowly broke the kiss and his lips trailed down my throat, his teeth grazing my skin just hard enough to leave me a mark. I reached up, my fingers tangling in the hair at the nape of his neck to pull him closer, to sink in the sensation.

That’s when I saw it.

As his head moved, the low light of the bedside lamp caught the skin just below his ear. My heart didn’t just skip a beat. It stopped.

Tattooed in deep obsidian ink was the mark of the Triple moon; the sigil of the High Alpha. It wasn’t just the pack mark. It was the crown. The lines were intricate and glowing with a faint violet light that only pulsed in the blood of the true lineage.

I shoved at his chest, pushing him aside, my eyes wide with a sudden freezing horror. I scrambled back toward the headboard, the silk of my slip tangled around my thighs.

“You…” I gasped, my voice failing me. “You’re Julian. The high Alpha. The man my father…. The man I’m supposed to be ‘presented’ to.”

Julian didn’t look embarrassed. He sat up slowly, his chest still heaving from our exertion, his eyes glowing with the same terrifying, beautiful violet light I had seen in the tattoo.

He looked at me with a smirk that was both cruel and devastatingly handsome.

“And You! Are exactly the kind of trouble I was hoping you’d be.” Julian said, his voice dropping to a low possessive growl as he reached out to trace a finger over my trembling lips.

I froze at his words as reality dawned on me.