The Sacred Luna

Chapter 19

(Sanya's POV)

Maya's face crumples, tears welling up in her eyes, spilling down her cheeks, ruining her carefully applied mascara. She gathers up the skirt of her dress in trembling hands and runs out of the mansion, her sobs echoing behind.

I watch her flee with a mixture of relief and guilt. Because even though she tried to destroy me... Even though she came here wearing a wedding dress to replace me...

She hadn't been wrong about Aaron's description.

So what went wrong? Why did it turn into Tyron's face?

Is the painter, as she said, a fake after all?

I can't help but feel a small pang of sympathy for her humiliation.

The door slams behind her, and the sound seems to break the spell that's been holding everyone frozen.

The servants exchanged confused glances, before scattering away. No doubt, to gossip about what just happened.

Tara and Mira, as always, give me disgusted looks, the suspicion and confusion clear in their eyes.

I don't understand what happened, but I'm grateful for the bluff.

For now.

Because I know this isn't over. I know now that Tyron isn't one to give up easily. He'll keep searching, and sooner or later someone, he will get his hand on the information that will lead him to the truth.

But for now, in this moment, Aaron is safe.

His identity is secure.

I glance around the room, looking for Aaron, wondering if he saw what happened. This incident should serve as a wake-up call for him.

If he doesn't leave soon, he might not get the chance to leave next time. But I don't see him anywhere. He must have made himself scarce the moment Maya arrived.

Of course. If she saw him, she would've recognized him on the spot.

Smart. Aaron has always been quick on his feet. I hadn't seen him earlier this morning either. When Tyron dragged me out of my room and tortured me in front of his entire family to get his name out of me.

He escaped, or went into hiding to save his skin. Breaking his promise, leaving me to face this nightmare of a man alone.

Tyron paces in front of me, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. I see the rage still simmering beneath his skin, the frustration of having his plan fail so completely, unraveling any facade of calm.

This is my sign to escape to my room before he decides to take that frustration out on me. I've had a long day, and the last thing I need right now is to be on the receiving end of his rage.

But before I can even take a step, Tyron's burning gaze fixes on me.

"This isn't over." A promise and a threat wrapped into three simple words. "I will find out who he is. I will hunt him down. And when I do, Sanya, you'll wish you had told me his name when I gave you the chance."

Then he storms for the stairs, his footsteps heavy on the marble steps, and I'm left reeling from the promise of his threat.

(Aaron's POV)

I stand in the corner of the living room, my back pressed against the cold wall, my heart hammering so hard I can feel it in my throat.

Maya.

Maya is here.

The woman who went to college with us, who saw Sanya and me together countless times. She knows exactly what I look like, and if she turns around.

If she so much as glances in my direction...

My cover as Jake will be blown.

Tyron will know I've been living under his roof this whole time. And Sanya—God, Sanya will pay the price for my deception. She's already suffered enough because of me. I won't be able to handle it if something happens to her because of me again.

Inching backward, I move slowly, carefully, keeping my eyes on Maya's back as she gestures with her hands for the painter.

"He's tall," she says. "Not as tall as you, Alpha, but tall enough. Maybe six-one, six-two. Dark hair, the kind that falls over his forehead in this careless way that girls always seem to love."

My stomach twists. Had she been watching me that closely?

I take another step back, my shoulder brushing the doorframe, and freeze, terrified the sound will draw attention. But Maya's too focused on her performance, too caught up in her moment of importance.

"His eyes are dark brown," Maya continues. "With these little flecks of gold that catch the light. Warm eyes, you know? The kind that make you feel safe."

Tyron's hands clench into fists.

I can see the rage building in him. The humiliation of knowing another man was in his wife's life before him. To be honest, I don't understand where this obsession for cleanness comes from.

The males in our community are unable to stomach the thought of their wives having a past with another man. The shame of being "second choice" as they so call it, is so deeply ingrained its hard to change it.

But I returned to change this very belief. To set Sanya's life straight and bring her and Tyron close. To the point where her past won't matter to him anymore.

So I slip through the doorway, moving through the dimly lit corridor, and the moment I'm out of sight, I run. I don't stop until the cool night air hits me in the face and I can finally breathe again.

But I can't relax. Because Sanya's still in there.

I stumble across the garden, my legs shaking, and fall to my knees on the grass.

The earth is damp beneath me, cold and solid. I press my palms into it, grounding myself, trying to stop the panic threatening to consume me.

"Creator, please," I whisper into the darkness. "Protect Sanya. She did nothing wrong. She doesn't deserve this."

My voice cracks.

"I'm the one who failed her. If I'd made it to our meeting that night, none of this would have happened. But I didn't. And I can't tell her why. I can't tell her what her brothers did to me. It will destroy her. I don't know what to do, how to help her. But your majesty knows no bound. And your power is all encompassing. Please....show me a way."

I bow my head, tears burning in my eyes.

"Give me the strength to protect her."

A breeze sweeps over me.

Gentle. Warm.

It touches my face like a hand, soft and reassuring, and I feel something shift inside me, something I can't name but recognize all the same.

Peace.

Hope.

And that familiar warmth I felt early in the morning when the Creator changed me into a shaman to ease Sanya's pain.

The breeze circles around me, lifting my hair, wrapping around my shoulders like a cloak, and when it passes, I feel... peace.

Pushing back to my feet, I return to the mansion, and watch the entire scene unfold.

I'd been preparing myself for the moment of exposure, when Tyron would see my face on that portrait and realize that Jake, his trusted Beta, is in fact the man he blames for stealing his wife's heart.

I'd been ready to run, to fight if necessary. And do whatever it took to protect Sanya even if it meant exposing myself and facing Tyron's wrath head-on.

But then the portrait is revealed, and it isn't my face staring back from the paper.

It's Tyron's.