Luna's Moon

Chapter Nine

As the car made its way to the airport, I pulled out my phone and dialed my sister's number. The phone rang, and I couldn’t shake the awareness of Aurelian sitting beside me.

"Well, well, well, little sis, quite the surprise," came my sister’s teasing voice, dripping with playful sarcasm.

I rolled my eyes. "Oh, shush. I called you last month."

"Riiiight" She sounded almost disbelieving, like she was trying to remember.

"How are you?....and Mom?" I stretched my legs out in front of me, the fabric of my dress riding up just a little. The movement was unconscious, but I felt the slight hitch of the hem against my skin. Aurelian shifted beside me, his presence always too powerful to ignore. He didn’t say anything, but I could feel his gaze lingering on me, a constant reminder of the weight of his silent attention.

"We’re good. Mom’s just... worried about you," my sister said, her voice softening a little at the mention of our mother.

I felt a knot tighten in my chest. Remember when I said Mom loved werewolves? That was before everything had changed. After Dad’s death, Mom’s entire world seemed to crumble, and with it, her understanding of anything that connected her to the supernatural. She couldn’t fathom why I would choose to work with them, let alone want to be near them. When she found out that I was dating them... it nearly broke her.

The shock had been so much that she’d nearly had a stroke. I could still remember the look in her eyes when I told her, the hurt, the betrayal—like I had shattered a piece of her she couldn’t get back.

Mom went straight from loving werewolves to hating them, It’s why they moved to Nashville and I stayed behind. She wanted to be in a place less dominated by them—fewer reminders.

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, trying to make sense of everything, but the truth was, I couldn’t shake the blame I held in my heart. I blamed her too, in a way. She was the one who made me love them. She showed me their complexities, their struggles, the depths of their loyalty. And now, those same creatures that had once seemed so full of mystery and allure had become the very thing that divided us.

“If she was so worried, she’d call,” I replied, my tone sharper than I intended.

"Luna..." My sister's voice softened, but I could hear the concern there, too, a reminder that we were both carrying the weight of the same grief.

We spoke a little longer, the words between us a delicate dance of love and pain, before we finally hung up.

As I set the phone down, the quiet of the car wrapped around me, but it did nothing to ease the ache in my chest. First Dad, then Mom. It felt like I’d lost both of them—one to death, the other to a decision that had cut us both off from the life we once had. I’d never expected to feel so abandoned. The minute I hadn't agreed to go to Nashville, it felt like my mom declared me dead to her.

We arrived at the airport and boarded the private jet, the hum of the engines filling the quiet air. I found my seat by the window, sinking into the plush cushion with a sense of quiet anticipation. I expected Aurelian to sit somewhere farther away, giving me space, but instead, he surprised me.

Without a word, he took the seat directly in front of me, his long legs stretching out until they gently trapped mine between them. The proximity was startling, a mix of comfort and something more—intimate in a way I hadn’t expected. I could feel the heat radiating from him, his presence overwhelming and undeniable.

He settled into the seat, placing his head on the headrest, his eyes half-lidded and lazy as they turned to meet mine. There was a quiet, almost playful intensity in his gaze, like he was daring me to acknowledge how close we were. My breath caught, the air between us suddenly thick with unspoken tension.

“What’s in Geneva sir?” I asked, my voice adopting a cooler, more professional tone as I tried to collect myself.

Aurelian’s lips curved into a subtle smirk, like he saw right through the shift in my demeanor and found it amusing.

“We’ll be attending a conference with the Prime Minister,” he said casually, but there was a hint of disinterest in his voice, like the whole ordeal bored him more than it intrigued him.

His leg brushed against mine—just a light touch, but it felt intentional. My gaze flicked to his, but he was already looking out the window, feigning indifference.

“I heard you already have an assistant in Geneva,” I said, keeping my tone even, though curiosity tugged at the edges of my words. The Beautiful lady who attended to me on my first day - Gina had been surprised when I told her I would be traveling with Aurelian.

“Yeah, I do,” he replied smoothly, offering nothing more.

I tilted my head slightly, studying his face. “Then why am I going?”

Aurelian's eyes flicked back to mine, a glint of amusement in it. But he didn’t answer right away, letting the silence stretch just long enough to make my pulse quicken.

He leaned forward suddenly, closing the space between us in a single, fluid motion. His presence crowded me, stealing the air from my lungs. All I could see was him—all I could smell. That warm, earthy scent that clung to him like a second skin.

“I want you close,” he said, his voice low and rough, like it scraped against something inside him. “I need to figure out why my dead heart stirs in your presence.I know you feel it too.” He sounds so sure.

“This is inappropriate,” I whispered, my voice barely steady. “You’re my boss.”

“I am,” he murmured, tilting his head just slightly, his gaze burning into mine. “But why do I feel like tearing that silly little gown off your body… kissing those soft, pink lips until they’re bruised and swollen?”

His eyes dropped again, roaming slowly—intentionally—down my body.

“Your legs…” he exhaled, his voice almost reverent. “God, they’d look phenomenal wrapped around my shoulders.”

My breath caught.

“I don’t do were-men anymore,” I said, the words escaping in a breathless rush, more defense than conviction.

Aurelian's eyes darkened, something primal flickering beneath the surface.

“You haven’t done me yet, love.” His voice was low, rough around the edges, every syllable dripping with hunger restrained by the thinnest thread of control. “I’ve been patient. I’ve been trying to hold back… I didn’t want to scare you.”

He leaned in just slightly, his gaze never leaving mine.

“I’ve been hunting you since the moment I laid eyes on you at the party. Every second I’ve had to pretend not to want you has been torture. And I don’t think I can hold myself back much longer.”

His eyes burned—not just with desire, but with something deeper, older. But still, he didn’t touch me. He made no move. He just looked at me.

And somehow, that was worse. Or better. I wasn’t sure. All I knew was that I was already unraveling under the weight of his stare alone. He saw me at the party?.. among everyone?