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☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ It pains me to part from her, but I'd be more a fool to sit in the range of her discerning gaze while crafting the lie I'm to unroll like a scroll before her jewelled eyes. I suppose it is not, in a precise sense, a lie, but it does not mirror the entire truth either. "What? Me?" She'd asked, as befuddled as a sweet rabbit. She's since sat there awaiting my reply, half-holding her breath for an explanation that will not come. "You should get dressed and prepare for the ball," I grunt, tossing my shirt and trousers on in a hail. She glares at me, a myriad of emotions splayed on her face, anger and confusion above most. I want to kiss all into vanishing, but I refrain from starting what would not benefit both of us if not finished. It is unfortunate there is no time for that. We've drawn out the hours of the day in bed in rapturous bliss found in each other. No more can be spared if we desire to make it to the ball, though I would go to Lyra first before at last
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ I tear through the fabric from the tiny nick, satisfied when it opens like ribbons to a gift. Ensconced lower, it glimmers, tender and ready, calling for me to lavish affection in its concern. I reason it would be a crime to deny its request. Retracting my claws, I roll the shreds of her brazier down her shoulders. My fingers circle on the sensitive flesh, and she shudders accordingly. "Good girl," I murmur, and she glares at me, but at twisting a stiff nub, she lets out a soft moan mixed with pain and pleasure. "That's better, leannán. I want you to cooperate with me." She gives the impression of readying to cuss at me, but a shadow passes over her gorgeous face, and she pins her lip with her teeth, submission apparent in her body language. It's one of the few instances she's given up on a fight. I suppose today is a day to be full of marvels. "You impress me, asthore," I whisper as her pantie comes off, a sheer, flimsy cloth that disappears under my palm as
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ Yet, I heed that she speaks true, and we cannot afford to not see to our businesses by nightfall. “It’s your blame for being so prepossessing and wickedly alluring. Without trying, you entice me. You shall be the talk of the ball.” She pins me with a severe stare. “Should I be happy about that?” “Perhaps not. I will rip into any male that gazes at my wife for too long or dares to leer at her.” She toys with her ring absent-mindedly. “You’re rather bloodthirsty today, aren’t you?” “Indeed,” I pause to glare at her neck, long and graceful yet highly exposed. The ball was not thrown in favour of vampires, so I expect very few turnouts of the bloodsuckers. However, it wouldn’t be a first for the devilish creatures to sneak in, existing where no one wishes them. “Are you armed?” “Find out yourself.” “You love to make me work, Luna.” I lease a complaint that has no meaning, all to poke fun at her. “Fortunately, I am only too glad to oblige.” She lets out a peal
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ It's past time to leave. Yet, I have not an inclination to let her go. There's this foreboding, a fearful apprehension whittling into my mind. I'd like to blame it on the reality that I shall not be near her for a while, but this feeling is quite more than that. It's too similar to disaster's presentiment to let my worries lie in peace. Moments ago, my concern had been at insignificant levels. Now, it's skyrocketed. I squeeze her in my arms for a stretch longer. "I think we should go now." The motor hums behind us, a reminder that we've tarried too long. My sigh fogs into a small cloud as I deliver the last of what she ought to have knowledge of at the ball. "Keep your head high. Whether visible or not, you have a crown to protect. Bow only to the Alphas. Everyone else, you ignore." She exhales, long and slow. "Got it." "Do not falter or waver in yourself. You were once Princess of Westardum. Of present, you're my wife, Luna of Guttenbrieg. There's no greater
☽☽☽MIKAEL'S POV☾☾☾ Jerald kicks into action at my summoning, materialising close in a wink. He steps back at the view before him. Rikal never permits others close to the point of touching him, not to talk less of letting hands caress him as if he were a pet. Yet, the Luna does all. "Alpha?" He calls by way of confirmation, and I nod in answer, distancing myself from her. "No! What's going on? Why did you move away?" Saskia objects, protesting at the lack of contact between her and my wolf upon the spawned divide. "Can't I just stay with him?" She asks innocently, even though she knows the answer to that. "I'm sorry, Luna. But we have to get moving, or we'll be late. Come on," Jerald coaxes, and I growl at his tone. Perhaps unbeknownst to him, it had been shaped as if he were conversing with one below him. He apologises first to me and to the Luna, explains further, "I am sorry for my tone, Luna. But please come with me. The Alpha's behest is that we leave soon." ["Tell her I wi
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ The sky is gray, heavy with unshed tears, when Jerald puts the gearstick in park. Wade is out of the car and at my door with a suaveness I briefly admire. He looks great in his tux. I've seen him this formally dressed perhaps only twice in my life—today is the second. He'd been in his trademark jeans during my wedding at the pack. He could not be bothered to dig up a suit for the occasion, so I find this a pleasant turnaround. Lowering a stiletto heel to the ground, I place my hand in his open palm to slide out into the open as elegantly as possible. My consequent inspection of the solid back and thick muscles rippling underneath his jacket is only expected. I don't think I could have afforded to not see to the chore of my appraisal. The review is favourable, nonetheless. "I'm sorry, but I shall be with you shortly, Luna," Jerald says, reversing down into the lane we newly proceeded from. "I must find a place to park the vehicle better." "It's alright. Don't
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ "What the actual fuck?" I spit, and a woman passing by with her partner targets me with a disdainful glare. I return the favour with a slow up and down that would piss anyone off. She's no exception as annoyance reddens her face to match the berry red hair flawlessly teased and executed on her head. Maybe I shouldn't have sworn crudely in this cultured of a place where poise and grace are expected of its visitors, but as Wade would say, anyone who's offended can kiss my royal ass. "What is this? The 1800s?” I growl angrily, no chips off my slab of rile. It's as intense as before, and I'm even more irritated currently. Thanks to the woman who felt it was necessary to be nosy and shoot daggers at me with her eyes. "But really, what's this discrimination about? Why are those without ranks treated differently from those who do? Posts literally mean nothing. Everyone's equal at the end of the day. When we die, we all rot and decay. So what's the big deal? Someone
☾☾☾ SASKIA'S POV ☽☽☽ He keeps to his word. Even though I don’t expect him to. But I have a hunch that he has something to gain through this. I just am not sure what it is. Whatever. I let it go without another thought. There are more important matters to ponder. When we pass by the infuriating guards, a previous version of me would have poked out a tongue at their balding heads that here I am getting in at last, but I have too much on my mind to do so. Moreover, this isn’t so much of a victory because I only received a pass because of Fabian. And if it isn’t already clear, I don’t want a pass because of him. Sadly, I need it, and here we are. In the process of checking ourselves in (manually, of course), Jerald and Wade slip further into the horde of the restless crowd leaving me with the one person I don’t want to be with. Where is a fiery mythical bird to pluck me off his arm and take me to a faraway nest when I need it the most? Today has been a day for wishing for my end. It’
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