☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ Saskia humphs, winding her head away from me. “Stop saying things only because you believe I want to hear them from you.” Perceptive as usual. “I can’t help it if it’s the truth, asthore.” “While we’re on the matter of truth, why don’t you tell me: were you ever in love with the red-haired woman?” While it should be no surprise she asked this, I am caught off-guard by its blow nonetheless. “No, I was not. I was her lover, yes. But I did not love her.” She pulls a face that skims short of horrified. “So you simply had casual sex with her though you did not have feelings for her? Did she know that?” She whispers, and I smile at her strain to be quiet, keeping our discussion from sniffing noses. Little does she know it is no secret. Any who is worth their salt should know the story—the feud between brother and I, and the one who’d gotten caught in the middle. “With a goal in mind, yes. And to satiate your curiosity, at the time, no, she did not know.” It had be
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ "What?" I swing along her line of sight to end on my dress shirt. There's a darker stain with uneven edges that's snagged her mind. Fuck. She clasps a hand over her mouth, gasping on the recognition. "That's blood. Are you hurt?" I was, but that does not concern her. It is not her issue to be bothered about. Cillian only managed to escape because he set loose five of his mangy dogs. It was his way of playing. Always had been; the lying cheat. I had no choice but to kill them all. Unfortunately, they were not novices. I took a few jabs before I could eliminate them. "I had to deal with a few pesky lads." My fists clench and unclench as I wish I could have ended their lives more viciously. Rikal agrees, and the blood lust to tear into a body and rip it apart head to feet clambers to a peak. Every cell in my being screams to kill as anger consumes me. A chair lightly scrapes on the floor, and Saskia tenses close. "Mikael?" Her hand shakes, but she comes to layin
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ The night ended in chaos. Imagine an entire ball being shredded from top to bottom. One wink, it was an operating, functional ceremony; the other, it was an utter disaster. Magician against werewolf? Never a good medley. But I couldn't even say that this was the case, as Absalon and his fair wife disappeared in a cloud of smoke almost instantly with a taunting cackle that I'm convinced will haunt my dreams. How else did the room get razed down? Oh, that was my husband in a fit of rage before he zoomed outside to find the wizard. Of course, that was, but after he'd signalled Wade to accompany me to a safe place. Was there any time I was allowed to join in the fun without Mikael trying to hide me like a treasured china plate locked in a cupboard? I honestly might not have glimpsed the almost imperceptible, wordless interaction between both weremen if I weren't so fixated on him. I'd latched onto his every move once the red-haired woman, Adeline, jumpstarted the
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ The sound of his name brought the letter hogging up space at the bottom of my travel luggage to mind. I’d taken to hauling it around everywhere I went. It made me less worried about its safety and who might or not be rifting through my belongings, on the cusp of unearthing or destroying it. I don’t know what I’d do if that happened. Granted that I don’t know what’s in the damn paper, I still can’t shift the hunch that it might be something capable of ruining Mikael. Why else would Absalon place it in my hands? I’m sure he believes I hate the Alpha of Guttenbrieg and that I’m only cozying up to him as part of my pretence after infiltrating his pack through our marriage. To that premise, I have no comment. I don’t hate Mikael. I like him. A lot. And sometimes, when he acts sweetly, both melting my heart and turning me on, I have to contemplate whether I might not be close to falling for him. Yet, I don’t love him. I’m not sure I love Sage anymore, either. These
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Just then, an idea pops into my head. Who the hell said I couldn't return the letter? It's such a simple yet no-shit solution I should have come up with decades ago. Yes... I wouldn't owe Absalon shit if I just gave him back his letter. After all, it wasn't like I'd been able to decipher its contents. He'd ensured that the sheet had remained blank since the first day it arrived in my mail, no matter what I did. I had a sweet plot to be put in motion. First, I had to badger Mikael for details about Absalon's departure once he was back. Then I would find a chance to sneak out of the house and hunt him down. I've always been a superb tracker than most wolves despite their excellent noses and smell system. I'm pretty confident I'll be able to sniff him out somehow. What, instead, might be impossible is escaping Mikael's clutches. Considering his keen perception and propensity to detect every cue about me, it might not be feasible at all. It may seem foolish that
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Something shifts inside me. The manacles come undone. Not by my will. No, it finds a better object of attraction worthier of its time than me. I don't know what the new entity might be, but I hear the contented hissing of the dark presence as it slithers away from me. My panic dissipates sluggishly, but I kick upward, glad to have my consciousness freed. I burst to life with a harsh gasp. "Mikael?" His name is the first sound that leaves my lips in a groan. My head pounds like a pistol is being hankered into my cranium. I search for him on my left side, barely unable to manage the chore of moving my head. Ow. The rest of my body is still rigid, unwilling to answer my demands. I'm inclined against the hardboard of an unfamiliar bed. He stands some feet away; our eyes lock in a heated gaze. Or rather, mine are pinned by orbs as pitch black as night. "Fucking hell," I mutter at the drawn fangs and protruding claws glinting dangerously. Mikael's no longer here.
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ "Oh gods, no. No, you're wrong!" I protest, doubled over by the hit his words packed to my chest. "That's not what I think at all, Mikael. I don't think you're a monster. I couldn't because you aren't." I grasp his hand tightly, trying to comfort him. It's saddening to see what he believes of me. If Mikael's a monster, then that means every supernatural is because he's no different from them, aside from his dissociation problem. It's all my fault, complaining so much about something he can't control. How could I have been so selfish and insensitive? It honestly beats me. How can I expect him to be respectful and considerate about my feelings when I don't reciprocate the same notion? In a bid to make him feel better, I tug him into an embrace. With his head resting on my chest and my fingers buried in his hair, I mumble my apologies. "I'm sorry I made you believe I see you differently because you sometimes lose yourself. I'm sorry I didn't consider you enough
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ A simper simmers on his inviting lips as he releases the stinging flesh he's since tortured. A glance downward tells me my areolae are the colour pink of a jellyfish. "Who knew you could be this compliant, piscín?" "I'm not—" I start to protest, but I'm cut off when the warmth of his mouth encloses a pert bud. I turn liquid in his hold. He repeats the action on the other lonely peak, and I squirm anxiously, wanting more. Needing more. He replaces his mouth with a hand, and I have a second to prepare myself for the fist that tightens in my hair and slams my mouth to his. To each demand he makes, I reciprocate with greater fervour. His firm lips meld into mine, cajoling my defences to fall and shatter into smithereens. I moan as his tongue plunges through, his warmth encasing every bit of my being. Inquisitive fingers roam the crannies of my body as we lock lips feverishly, passion heightening by the second. I can't tell when the straps of my dress are rolled
Hello, lovelies!Thank you for reading to the end of The Luna’s Possessive Alpha. This is Book 1 of the TLPA Series. Book 2 is titled The Luna’s Broken Alpha, and will be made available on Goodnovel in the next few days. I sincerely appreciate all your support for Book 1, and I hope to see you all in Book 2!*Please read the blurb for The Luna’s Broken Alpha below:“To establish a balance in the supernatural realm, the two most powerful packs in North America formed a political alliance. This was achieved through the union of Princess Saskia and Alpha Mikael. However, the infection among the werewolf packs has only grown stronger since the ascension of the new Alpha. The supernatural world is currently on the brink of falling apart. War is closer than ever as corrupted werewolves escape the grasps of their vampire lords; chaos is bound to ensue.*Saskia accepted her fate in her new pack and was willing to do all that was needed of her as Luna until she had her title stripped away by
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ "You know that's not how things work, Saskia." Wade's reply snags my focus, and I change my train of thought. "Once I pledge my loyalty to an Alpha, I become bound to him as one of his pack. The fact that I did already means that I was accepted. The only creature allowed to admit me into Guttenbrieg is its Alpha." I squeeze my eyes shut as a tremble shakes me to my core. It's difficult to process what Wade's made plain. I don't want to try because it's fatuous to do so. It would be pure idiocy to believe that Mikael's dead. It honestly can't be. I would know. As the woman who married him, who's mated with him, and most of all, as one who has come to love him artlessly, I would have known. I, of all people, should have felt him slipping away from this world. The planet should have felt off-center, tilted off-axis when he took his last breath. How could I not have known? What was I doing when—according to their hypotheses—he died? How could I have carried on w
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Kaleb Sacramone makes no sense. No sense at all. Mikael's not dead. The man I talked to mere hours ago was everything but dead. Guttenbrieg's Lieutenant General often sucked at making coherent sense, but this is simply ridiculous. How dare he fake Mikael's death only to get under my skin? I might have slapped him if I didn't think he was insane. The werewolf needs a psychiatric intervention coupled with enough mental evaluations. His days in the dungeon must have turned him unhinged, a deranged creature. I make a mental reminder to request an appointment for him immediately after this is over. "Who is dead?" I parrot, pausing for him to assert that this is all a joke and rescind those hideous words. "Mikael isn't dead." Kaleb laughs in my face. Outright does so. I contemplate pulling out my daggers and holding them to his neck, drawing blood for his insolence. I fist my hands to keep from heeding any rash decisions. "Do you have hearing problems, Saskia? I b
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ You're such a fool, Saskia. The berating arrives only after the fibres of my undies have suffered the deluge of an Olympic-sized pool. It's embarrassing. My body still throbs for Mikael even after learning about his misdeeds. Even directly beside the man who's made himself vulnerable by disclosing a secret he's kept for years to me about his emotions, I'm thirsting for and craving the attention of a man who's bent on using me without a care for how much I'll hurt as a result of his evil deceitfulness. It's so ludicrous. I missed him before I knew what he'd done. And now that I know the crimes he's committed, I miss him maybe even more. Frankly, I just want him to come home so we can have an earnest discussion. I want to hear the truth from the horse's mouth. If I could help it, I'd pick up my phone and call him to hurry up and head back to the pack. I won't, of course. First, I have no inkling of my phone's whereabouts. Second, I wouldn't dream of hindering
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ "Ignore what I said." "Okay." I can't. I swallow hard, glueing my sight to the road. Wade loves me? Perhaps he means as a friend. But we were talking about Mikael as a baseline. The Alpha wouldn't love me as a friend as I'm his wife. Moreover, that wouldn't be a kind of love worth being broached in chatter by another wolf. Things genuinely just got incredibly weirder. And awkwarder. My head feels like there's been a crater blasted into it. The indented hollowness is the equivalent of a cavity, and I find myself scrambling to fill my head with reflections other than that which refuses to dissipate: Wade loves me. I love him too, I realise. I love him as one who's been by my side for ages, one whom I've relied on in the thickest of battles, one who's never shied away from being a firm shoulder I could cry on. I love him for being an incredible person, but I have never dwelt on what kind of love it is. It's always been common sense that we care for each other l
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Wade's hand is fisted by his side when I return to scrutinising him. "I w-wish I realised...earlier that this was how... you'd been feeling. I was too occupied...and engaged by my self-imposed job of being...the happy-go-lucky guy. I never noticed...that you were burdened...by how we all treated you. I'm sorry, Saskia." He lingers between his words, trying to catch his breath and possibly summon the strength to speak. My heart clenches in my chest. I wish I could take away his pain and make it nonexistent. He doesn't deserve what Absalon did to him. I guess the thought that's been keeping me restless is the odds that his injuries aren't from Absalon's antics, as he claims, but from the destruction I caused with my powers. I can't yet envision forgiving myself for what I've done so far; if I was the one who truly hurt Wade, I know I'd truly never be able to grant myself forgiveness. It wouldn't matter how many years might pass; I'd continue to hate myself for
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ Wade is a damned liar. I should have known better than to trust him to tell me the truth about how he felt. Even more annoying is that he clearly fooled me with his charms. While I often harped on the fact that werewolves could make themselves more attractive to others through their supernatural magnetism, I'd forgotten the fact that, in specific, they could conceal defects about themselves. In my state of despair, I'd become easily subject to his prowess. He'd gotten the chance to disguise the true extent of his injuries. If I say I'm not entirely beyond pissed off, then I'd be telling a lie—something those I cherish as friends and family seem adept at doing when I'm involved. "You don't need to do this." Wade coughs, a shadow of himself, having drained up to half the quota of blood in his body. I eye him in irritation. Is there any time he doesn't annoy me like it's a hobby of his? "I'll do what I want, Wade. Kindly shut the fuck up while I do." I want to
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ "What the...fucking...hell was that?" I scramble to rise, but my efforts are thwarted by a force field smashing my length to the ground. It all clicks in at once: magic. The weight on my spine, crushing my neck and torso to the ground, is of a mammoth's mass in thousands of tonnes. I snarl as the invisible load intensifies at my joints, breaking my bones. Whatever witch is responsible must be incredibly skillful. It's a hellish experience that might have had a more inexperienced version of myself centuries ago whimpering in pain. I've long learnt to endure worse. Warning bells wail in my head. It's evident Cillian and Whelan planned this from the genesis of our interaction. I'd been too blinded by my fury to see through their plan. Cillian hammers on this point with his utterance, "you were an idiot not to suspect the cause of our visit, Mikael." My hateful gaze pans upward, but it does not land on Cillian. Instead, Absalon's distasteful countenance is caught
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ A scowl overtakes my cast as I set eyes on the fair-headed man bent over a walking stick, not from age but for a ruse. "Missed the train home, Whelan?" The bitterness yet stored within seeps into my tone. "Whelan?" The old, heavy voice rumbles like a clap of thunder rolling down the beak of a mountain. Long ago, in a distant land bound by time, I'd been a lad afraid of its owner. "I imagined I was once Seanathair to you, Mikael. Ain't it so, Cillian?" Cillian pulls further out from the woods—left untouched and spared from Saskia's dismantling—at the query. I do not give the coward a chance to voice his opinion. "You mean nothing to me. I don't remember a grandfather. Nay, I recall a sadistic fiend who gloated in sacrificing others for his evil causes—his family included." As patronising as the word might ever entail, Whelan corrects, "Family means naught without loyalty. I attack not those under my wings. You must've understood that by now, Alpha of Guttenbrie