The Perfect Luna’s Rogue Mate

Chapter 4

Only Castian’s eyes showed the rage within. His stone expression had returned since the smile, or his version of one, had vanished.

Castian Rhodes…

She said the name in her head. Castian’s gaze moved back to her, slowly, his shoulders straightening as if he had somehow heard her mental voice.

Her eyes widened in shock and disbelief. What? Can he…no… she thought, panic once again threatening to overflow.

His eyes narrowed, and black eyes flashed for a split second, a primal push from his wolf before returning to their normal color, as if the rogue had wanted to enter attack mode, to defend something or someone precious or vital to him, then had taken back control of his reaction.

In response, Chyrstal felt her own wolf rise to the surface, her eyes turning black as if, at a primal level, to embrace the protection that had almost been offered, and staying that way, as the connection between them deepened beyond anything she had thought possible.

Her mouth fell open in shock as she struggled to process what was happening to her, no longer able to keep the regal appearance required of her.

Darius’ head snapped to Chrystal as he noticed the change in her eyes, then swiveled to Castian, his brow furrowing and his mouth turned downward in displeasure. He grabbed Chyrstal’s hand with a possessiveness that threatened to crush her bones, snapping her out of her near-hypnotic state.

“Capture the traitor!” he growled as he stared at Castian with deep hatred.

Blades flashed in the firelight as the pack warriors turned against Castian instantly. Chrystal hardly blinked before Castian moved toward her; faster than any wolf she had ever seen.

One moment, he was standing still; the next, he was a blur of motion, taking down three warriors in the span of a breath.

He did not hesitate and did not falter as he swept toward her. Darius lunged at Castian, claws unsheathed, fury driving him to forget his blade, but Castian wasn’t there.

He dodged Darius, spun with fluid grace, then grabbed Chrystal by the waist. A shiver shot through her, the mate bond burning hot where he touched her skin.

“Let go of me!” Chrystal snarled, furious at being handled in such a rough manner, digging her nails into Castian’s arm. Her nails, not her claws; a distant part of her registering that she could not shift.

She understood, without thinking, that she could not hurt him; even as her mind struggled to escape his scorching hold. That same knowledge let her know that he, too, could not harm her, not directly, not intentionally.

Such was the power of a mate bond.

Yet, Chrystal’s mind was being pulled elsewhere, drawn toward thoughts and feelings that contradicted everything she knew she should think, should desire, as the three struggled against one another.

I can’t hurt him. My heart won’t allow it…But more than that…I want…no…I need to get him out of here! Even if they capture him, he is a rogue, and more, a traitor to the Kingdom itself! They will torture him. Even if they can’t kill him, they will definitely make him suffer. Darius, will make him suffer.

She reflected as she pushed Castian’s arm with one hand, while Daruis pulled on the wrist of her other hand as he tried to claw at Castian with his free hand, three people moving in a very strange, violent dance, until Castian broke their circle of doom.

His voice, low and lethal, breathed against Chyrstal’s ear, “They will kill you, little Luna.” Her breath caught in her chest, and she moved without thinking, pulling her wrist from Darius’ grip with sudden strength she hadn't known she possessed.

She had not been frightened by the warning; she had been surprised by it, but more than that, she had FELT that he was not lying, that he had spoken the truth about a danger she had not recognized.

What is this? This is not what I learned about mate bonds! I can sense him…feel him…I…I KNOW him…, her mind spun with confusion and wonder as Castian jerked her off the ground, pressing her against his side as he continued to plough through the warriors who could barely touch him.

She stared up at his stone face as his eyes remained focused on their enemies.

OUR enemies? No! These are MY people. This is MY pack! Chrystal chided herself as she drank in the rogue's emotions with an intimacy that should have taken years to develop.

Chrystal’s eyes went to Darius, who was bracing to launch himself at Castain. He was less than ten feet from them, surrounded by pack warriors who were trying to shield him from Castian’s haphazard attacks.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl as she watched the scene unfold. Her gaze shifted to her father, and what she saw in his expression made her heart stop, the blood freezing in her veins as she recognized something she had never seen before in the man who had raised her.

His eyes were fixed on Castian with a deathly stare that went far beyond the hate between pack wolves and rogues. She had never seen her father, the Alpha King, look so…cold, so far removed from the gracious, yet impartial ruler she knew him to be.

Rogues were like rodents to pack wolves – too many, an irritation, and not of any use. She, as a princess, and not just any ordinary princess, a Luna-in-waiting, knew the politics around and the treatment rogue wolves received in Malbarone.

All rogues were expendable.

But that was not what the King’s face was saying. Rather, his brow, the set of his jaw and mouth, the tension in his wide shoulders and large chest said, very clearly, to Chrystal’s trained eye, that the King wanted to kill this particular rogue – himself – at any cost.

Chrystal knew full well the strength of mind her father possessed, how strict he was, and how rules were highly regarded in his kingdom. These were the what that made Malbarone both respected and feared.

The King wanted to kill this wolf, and he would, no matter the cost to her or the kingdom.

Chyrstal’s heart resumed, pounding like a war drum. She gripped Castian’s upper arm, reflexively, unintentionally; instinctively doing for him what he had done for her seconds ago. A warning, but without any words. She could not have spoken. She would never have dared. Such a thing would be a betrayal of her people.

Her innermost being cried out with the horror that overwhelmed, that she was still trying to process. Castian’s eyes instantly snapped to the King. He bared his fangs in a wide grin. “You want me dead?” he called out mockingly, almost as if he had pulled the words from Chrystal’s mind, “Come and try!”

With one powerful leap, he dragged Chrystal with him, straight into the darkness, to safety, into the unknown, away from those who would kill him, who could kill her, away from calculated certainty into unimaginable possibilities.