The Untouched Moon Queen: The Sacred Bond

My First Sin

Princess Adalyn

“I can’t,” I whispered.

Keiran went still.

“Can’t what?”

My lips brushed his when I answered.

“Tell you to stop.”

For one breath, nothing happened.

Not the music.

Not the festival below.

Not the moonlight spilling over the balcony like silver water.

Only him.

Only me.

Only the space between our mouths, so small it felt impossible that I had lived my entire life never knowing how dangerous a space could be.

Then Keiran made a sound under his breath—half curse, half surrender.

“Addie.”

My name in his voice ruined me before his mouth ever touched mine.

He kissed me carefully at first.

Too carefully.

As if I were something breakable.

As if he knew, somehow, that no one had ever kissed me before. The thought made panic jump in my chest. My hands tightened against his shirt.

What if I did it wrong?

What if he could tell?

What if kissing was another thing normal girls knew how to do, and I had been too sheltered, too sacred, too untouched to understand where my mouth should go or how to breathe or what to do with my hands?

Keiran pulled back the smallest amount.

Not away.

Just enough for his forehead to rest against mine.

“You’re thinking too loudly,” he murmured.

My eyes flew open. “You can hear that?”

His mouth curved. “No. But your whole body is arguing with itself.”

Embarrassment burned through me.

I tried to be composed

Sonny pressed against my ribs, warm and impatient.

Stop thinking.

“I don’t know how,” I thought back.

Then let me.

Before I could decide if that was a terrible idea, Keiran’s thumb brushed my cheek.

“Easy,” he said softly. “I’m not going anywhere.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

I did not know anymore.

The words slipped under my skin and found the girl who had spent her whole life being left inside rooms for her own protection. The girl who had watched festivals from windows. The girl who had been touched only by attendants, healers, elders, and duty.

That made me brave.

I lifted my chin and kissed him back.

Badly, probably.

Too soft at first.

Too hesitant.

But Keiran did not laugh. He did not tease. He only went very still for half a heartbeat, as if my shy little attempt had struck him.

Then his hand slid to the side of my neck.

Sparks bloomed beneath his palm.

I gasped into his mouth.

Keiran deepened the kiss.

The world fell away.

There were no steps to learn. No sacred laws to recite. No council watching from shadowed corners. No powers to protect. Only warmth and pressure and his breath mixing with mine. Only the taste of whiskey and moonberry sugar. Only the impossible feeling that my body had been waiting for this before I knew his name.

I had never kissed anyone before.

But my wolf had been born knowing him.

Sonny rose inside me, fierce and golden, and suddenly my hands were not frozen against his chest. They moved, curling into the front of his shirt, pulling him closer before I could pretend I had not wanted to.

Keiran’s breath caught.

The sound sent heat rushing through me.

He broke the kiss just enough to breathe.

His forehead rested against mine again.

We were both breathing too hard.

That should have frightened me.

It did.

But not enough.

His thumb traced along my jaw, careful and slow.

“You keep surprising me,” he said.

My voice barely worked. “Is that bad?”

His laugh was quiet, almost pained. “No, Addie. That is the problem.”

Below us, the festival glowed like another life. A life where girls kissed boys in public and laughed afterward. A life where bodies belonged to the people living inside them.

Keiran’s gaze dropped to my mouth again.

Mine dropped to his.

“You want me to kiss you again,” he said.

I should have denied it.

Instead, Sonny pushed through my shyness, bold and wicked and nothing like the obedient princess I had been raised to be.

“Maybe you are not as observant as you think,” I whispered, “if you had to ask.”

Keiran froze.

The confidence vanished as quickly as it had come.

His hand moved to my waist.

The same place he had touched me when the runes first appeared.

“You’re not as tame as you pretend to be.”

I swallowed.

“I am not pretending.”

“No?” His mouth brushed the corner of mine, not quite a kiss. “Then who taught you to look at me like that?”

“I am not looking at you like anything.”

“Liar.”

His lips touched my cheek.

Soft.

Barely there.

Still, my whole body answered.

The heat inside me deepened, unfamiliar and impossible to hide. My breath shivered. My fingers curled tighter in his shirt.

Keiran stilled.

I felt the moment he noticed.

Again.

My face flamed.

I tried to step back, but the balcony railing was behind me and Keiran was in front of me and the pull between us had turned the whole world into a circle with him at the center.

“I’m sorry,” I blurted.

His brows drew together. “For what?”

“I don’t know.”

That sounded ridiculous.

I wanted to vanish.

Keiran’s expression softened in a way that hurt more than teasing would have.

“Addie.” His voice was gentler now. “Don’t apologize for wanting something.”

The words struck too deep.

Do not apologize for wanting something.

No one had ever told me that.

Wanting, for me, had always been dangerous.

Wanting sweets was indulgent.

Wanting freedom was childish.

Wanting touch was forbidden.

Wanting him…

That was ruin.

My throat tightened.

Keiran saw too much on my face, because the sharpness returned to his eyes—not at me, but for me. Protective. Angry on my behalf without knowing why.

“Who made you feel like you had to?” he asked.

I looked away.

Too close.

Too dangerous.

“I do not want to talk about that.”

“Then we won’t.”

Just like that.

No pushing.

No demanding.

No elder’s smile, soft and suffocating, telling me confession was obedience.

Keiran simply let the door close.

And because he did, I wanted to open it.

Not with words.

Not yet.

I lifted my hand and touched his cheek.

His skin was warm beneath my palm. A faint shadow of stubble brushed my fingers. He turned his face into my touch, just slightly, and breathed me in.

The movement was so intimate my knees weakened.

Sonny whispered, Ours.

The word should have terrified me.

It did.

But it also felt like standing barefoot in sunlight after years underground.

Keiran leaned closer, nose brushing along my temple, into my hair.

“Goddess,” he murmured. “That scent.”

My eyes fluttered shut.

Keiran’s hand tightened on my waist.

“You moonflowers after rain,” he said, voice rough. “Like honey. Like trouble wrapped in silk.”

My cheeks warmed.

Then his lips brushed the side of my throat.

Every thought shattered.

A sound escaped me.

Small.

Startled.

Embarrassing.

Keiran pulled back instantly.

“Too much?”

“No.” The word came out so fast we both froze.

His eyes searched mine.

My heart pounded hard enough to hurt.

“I mean…” I swallowed, wishing I knew how normal girls did this. Wishing I knew how to be bold without Sonny lending me her teeth. “No.”

Keiran’s gaze dropped to my mouth.

The air between us changed.

He kissed me again.

Not as carefully this time.

Still gentle, but not delicate. Not distant. He kissed me like he had been holding something back and the restraint was starting to cost him.

I clung to him.

I could not help it.

The pull was too strong now. Magnetic. Orbital. If he shifted away, I followed. If his mouth left mine, my body leaned after him. Every small space felt wrong until it closed again.

My runes flickered.

I felt them before I saw them.

Warmth sparked beneath my skin, sliding down my arms in thin silver-gold lines.

Keiran broke the kiss and looked down.

The glow brightened under my cloak.

“Oh no,” I whispered.

The balcony filled with soft light.

Not enough to blind.

Enough to expose.

Keiran moved immediately, stepping in front of me, shielding me from the club windows with his body.

His back blocked the view from inside Luna Nocturne. His hands found my arms, steadying me.

“Breathe,” he said.

“I am trying.”

Keiran’s mouth twitched, but his eyes stayed alert, scanning the door, the windows, the street below.

Protecting me.

The runes pulsed once more, then faded.

Darkness returned.

But my panic did not.

Keiran looked back at me.

For once, he was not teasing.

“We need somewhere private.”

The word sent a thrill and a warning through me at the same time.

I should have said no.

I should have fixed my cloak, found the exit, returned to the palace, climbed back over the wall, and prayed until morning that the Moon Goddess forgave me for every touch, every spark, every thought I had no right to have.

Instead, I looked at Keiran.

At his dark hair mussed from my fingers.

At the tension in his jaw.

At the way his body still angled between me and anyone who might see.

Dangerous.

Reckless.

My mate.

The last word moved through me like a bell.

I did not say it out loud.

Neither did he.

But we both felt it.

Keiran’s voice dropped. “Addie, I’m not asking you to do anything you don’t want.”

I nodded, though my throat felt tight.

He studied me for another moment.

Then he stepped back, putting space between us.

The loss of him hit me immediately.

Cold air rushed into the place his body had warmed. My fingers curled at my sides, aching to reach for him.

“If you want to leave,” he said, “I’ll take you home. Or call you a carriage. Or walk away and pretend I am not going to think about you for the rest of my life.”

My heart stumbled.

He said it like a joke.

It did not feel like one.

Sonny pressed forward, fierce and certain.

Choose.

The word trembled through me.

I reached for his hand.

Keiran looked down as my fingers slid into his.

Sparks answered.

His eyes lifted to mine.

“I want somewhere quiet,” I whispered.

His expression changed.

Softened.

Darkened.

Both at once.

“Then I’ll find you quiet.”

He led me back through the balcony door, keeping his body close enough to shield me but not so close that I could not turn away. The hallway seemed longer now. The spell-lamps dimmer. The music more distant, like the club itself knew we had crossed into something that belonged to shadows.

At the end of the corridor, Keiran stopped before a black door marked with a crescent moon.

He hesitated.

Then looked at me.

One last chance.

One last door.

“Addie,” he said, voice rough. “If you come inside with me, I don’t know if I’ll be strong enough to let you leave untouched.”

Untouched.

The word should have saved me.

It should have pulled me back into white silk, sacred vows, council prayers, and the girl I had been trained to be.

Instead, it broke something open.

I was tired of being untouched.

Untouched by choice.

Untouched by joy.

Untouched by life.

So I stepped past him into the quiet room.

And closed the door behind us.