☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ The honeyed scent does not waft away even in her absence. I shut my eyes for a long while, hoping to rid the redolence of her arousal, but it is to no avail. To put it lightly, the monster she has arisen below currently attacks the seams of my trousers relentlessly, a miserable attempt to free itself from the material's prison and perhaps latch itself to the suctioning channel worth its seeking. Unfortunately, that path of action is no choice of mine. Not now. Not in public. Not when I have not taken possession of her heart. She yet tiptoes around me, unsure what to do, how to feel and react to what I say. The property is peculiar, as are her tastes, I've come to heed; for one, never have I met any as infatuated with maple oatmeal cookies as exhibited in her frequent demands for them. And this uncanny obsession is none the whole of it. The Luna is a walking box of wonderments—many catastrophic. Scanning around, I parse the scheme of the shop's settings. Rows o
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ "My wife stood against me today because of you. Over and so again, she claimed that you were capable of making certain she was safe, implying even more than I." I tug in a long breath to hold from bubbling over. "Why? Might you be displaying this immaturity because you failed to meet her expectation?" "You should not lump me in the same sum with you, Alpha. Last I checked," he gains a step in my way. The child, indeed, is as brave as a fool. "You were the one who ordered me to stand down and keep watch outside the store—which I find ironic since I was the one who found Saskia." "It's Luna to and from you, Crestengalt. Nothing else." "I knew her by name before she married and became Luna. It is only common sense for me to call her by the name she prefers hearing from me. His insult does not slink by me as I catch it by the neck. "Common sense?" I chuckle, though his disrespect is everything but funny. "Is there something weighing on your chest that you have to
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ Amongst my audience, Gwendolyn wears terror most finely at my actions, a phenomenon I find strange since she’s been exposed to my dealings far earlier than Serenge, as a lasting member of the pack. Well, it doesn’t matter what she thinks or feels. I flick my attention from her round eyes and horrified cast. “To reiterate, Crestengalt, since your eardrums have been occluded with liquid,” I beam at him with all graciousness, enjoying how his hands curve around his neck, trying to curb the bleeding and keep the red fluid from spilling to the white, tiled floor. “You will call my wife, Luna. Next, you shall return the pack and treat yourself if your healing mechanism is that limp and has not put you out of pain by your arrival.” My grin broadens, aware that I scored well enough that an average wolf cannot heal all that injury in an hour. “I have eased your burden,” I add, gauging his mellowed response. “You need not protect my wife no more. Concentrate on staying a
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ I couldn't be angrier. By Selena, this is the umpteenth time I've passed out in the span of a week. And it's effing unbelievable. Can someone explain why my body discerns the need to crumble into a lifeless sack of potatoes whenever I encounter a single inconvenience? It's irritating that I don't even get to retort at whatever has me in a chokehold. That wretched man should have waited. Forget his warning of me not pulling out my knife; I was going to either way only when he wasn't watching. It was my plan to do so until I dropped into peaceful repose like I was Sleeping Beauty. While I was at it, I should as well have waited for a kiss from my Prince Philip to make sure I went about everything the right way, leaving no strays. How embarrassing. I want to bury my head in my pillow and scream loud and long, but I'm lying in a supine position with an IV strapped to my arm. It would be impossible to do something so simple without displacing the bag of liquid.
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ "You are deep in thought, Luna." Maggie warbles from the hearth, where she kindles a fire. The heat in the room rises, suffusing my brittle bones, and I sigh gratefully. Count on Maggie to know what I need. My sister-in-law was fast becoming a mother figure to me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. Growing up without a mother wasn't the worst thing, as I had an attentive father and lots of older brothers and sisters who, though not related to me by blood, never acted like they were connected to me any less. We were a big family, as most packs were. Being human meant I was babied at every turn. Coupled with being a constantly sick toddler, the overprotectiveness was off the charts. In my teen years, I still had a literal babysitter until I began to rebel and demand that I be respected and given my space. I was the Alpha's daughter, after all. Wade, then Sage, joined the pack during my rebellious phase. Sage was an exchange wolf between Westardum and the Roa
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ A wounded look overrides the smile on Wade's lips. "I always care. You know that." "Did something happen?" I lean into him, shame washing over me, as I wonder why the wolf I know as a joker is suddenly so serious. "Why are you taking my words at face value?" He evades my gaze with ease, as the one standing upright while I'm tied to the bed by a flimsy rubber string that I'm not meant to remove. "It's not anything enough to be upset about. I guess I'm a shred tense, though it's nothing the esteemed Luna of Guttenbrieg shouldn't be able to fix with a touch of hers." Ew. Gross. "Will you ever stop?" I'm close to barfing in my mouth. "Yuck. Ugh. I don't even want to know if you had a hidden meaning behind that." I've already attached one to it, but that's far from the point. He laughs, a low, shaky sound that flips my stomach wrong. What. the. hell!? I shut my eyes to stop the ensuing madness in my head. Not Wade. It can't ever be Wade. The thought of it is dis
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ "Is it what you can share with me?" I hold my breath before choosing to share some of the truth with Wade. I muse that he deserves that much from me. "The message was from Absalon. He said that he'd sent me a gift, and for that, I owed him." "What!" The chair crumbles to the ground with a muffled thunk as Wade ejects himself off it curtly. "What the hell kind of gift could that be?" "You tell me." I sigh, keenly aware of the blank letter burning a hole through the bottom of my suitcase. It's not happening, but I'm on the cusp of melting into my bed like cheese in fondue at my duplicity. Note to self: "you suck at lying, Saskia." "You should share this with the Alpha." "My father?" "No, your husband." I expect a smile or swish of the brow, but his expression remains grave. "Mikael might know what to do since he's the sworn enemy of the wizard." I survey my short, neatly filed nails. It's been a while since a nail polish brush met their canvas. Might hav
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ A special delivery indeed it was. I'm still not sure how the guards got Mikael's project to fit through the door, but somehow they did. Now, I have a dresser that almost spans the entire width of the room and is filled to the brim with earrings, bracelets, necklaces, brooches and bric-à-brac. "He must have gone mad," I mumble as I sweep through the first drawer for the umpteenth time since the dresser made its way into the room. "Why are there so many darn pearls and gems?" There's no doubt they are genuine and must have cost a fortune. I don't know how to feel about them. Glittery pieces of jewellery are pretty and will always catch my attention, but this much at once is scary. What am I going to do with these many ornaments? Twenty drawers are heavy because of the gemstones burdening them, and I can't come up with a single occasion where they will be lighter. To make the situation worse, Mikael has not come to the house or attempted to visit me at all. I'v
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