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Chapter 43: The Games We Play
Last Updated:
2025-01-04 04:52:40
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The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 44: Fractured Reflections
LUCIEN The door slammed shut behind me with a force that rattled the frame, but it wasn’t enough to drown out the echoes of my own words. The moment I took my first step inside, the walls seemed to close in on me, like a predator circling its prey. My ribs ached with shallow breath, the injury Vladimir inflicted burning like a fire that refused to be extinguished. I pressed my palm against the wound, trying to steady myself, but the pressure only seemed to intensify the pain.Despite that I was glad I finally stood up to him—to Archimedes, my supposed father. Every single thought I’d buried for eighteen years, every ounce of resentment I’d swallowed just to survive in Archimedes’ shadow, it had all come pouring out like a flood I couldn’t stop. And yet, as the silence of the room closed in around me, the weight of my anger didn’t dissipate.I paced back and forth, my ribs protesting with each jarring step. The confrontation replayed in my head, every word laced with venom. I could s
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NANA POV:The banging had stopped. I pressed my ear against the heavy oak door, my heart in my throat as I strained to hear even the faintest sound. But all I got was silence—a terrifying, suffocating silence that made my skin crawl.“Lucien!” I shouted again, pounding my fists against the door. “Please, open up! I can help you, I swear!”But I knew better.This wasn’t the first time. I had witnessed his curse consume him like this before. Yet each time, it felt like a blade piercing deeper into my chest. He never let anyone in, even when it meant he’d tear himself apart trying to fight it. I stood there for a moment longer, my forehead pressed against the cold wood, my breaths shaky. “Please…” I whispered, my voice cracking.Nothing.I clenched my fists and stepped back, panic clawing at me. He needed me, and yet he wouldn’t let me near him. I couldn’t stand idly by, knowing what he was going through behind that door. The guttural pain , the darkness clawing at his mind, the violen
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BEN’S POVThe air in the room was suffocating, a mix of tension, sweat, and the faint metallic tang of blood. Lucien was stable now—or at least as stable as a man battling the darkness within could be. Nana hovered over him like a sentinel, her trembling hands betraying the calmness she tried to portray. I stood by the door, my back pressed against the cool wood, my mind spinning with too many thoughts.Lucien. Olivia. Everything. I couldn’t help but let my eyes drift back to Lucien, lying unconscious on the bed. His face was pale, almost translucent, and his breaths came in shallow, ragged intervals. The man I had come to admire looked nothing like the unshakable figure I had always seen. The curse was eating him alive, and tonight it had almost won.But my thoughts weren’t on Lucien for long. They never were these days.They were with Olivia.“Ben,” Nana’s voice was soft but firm, pulling me out of my thoughts. She was kneeling beside Lucien, dabbing at his sweat-soaked brow with a
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AARON’S POV: I was seated in my study when the soft knock came at the door. My lieutenant, Caleb, stepped in with a look that was equal parts relief and hesitation.“Alpha Aaron,” he said, bowing slightly. “We’ve found her.”For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. “Olivia?” “Yes, Alpha,” Caleb confirmed. “She’s safe. She’s at Alpha Lucien’s estate.”My chest rose and fell heavily as a weight I hadn’t realized I’d been carrying lifted off me. Olivia was safe. My daughter was alive. My lips parted to ask more, but the words stuck in my throat. Relief warred with something darker. She was at Lucien’s house. The mate she hadn’t chosen.“Did she… say anything?” I asked cautiously, though I wasn’t sure I was prepared for the answer.Caleb shook his head. “We haven’t spoken to her directly, Alpha. The information came through a scout stationed near Alpha Lucien’s territory. He reported seeing her unconscious but being cared for.”Unconscious. My relief faltered. “And Lucien?”“He’s… stable,
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EMMA’S POVIt wasn’t hard to hear the whispers. Servants always talked, their voices carrying through the stone halls like wind through cracks in a door. And lately, those whispers were all about Lady Claire.I was walking past the main hall when I caught the tail end of a conversation earlier tonight.“She’s been sneaking out again,” one of the younger maids whispered to the butler. “And to think, it’s Vladimir. Of all people.”I slowed my pace, my ears pricking.“It’s not just rumours anymore,” the butler replied in a hushed tone. “One of the night patrols saw her. If the Alpha finds out—”The sound of a door slamming shut cut off the conversation, and I hurried on, pretending I hadn’t overhead. But the words stayed with me, a slow-burning fire of tension in my chest.Now, as I stood near the corner of the hallway leading to Alpha Aaron’s quarters, I felt that fire spread. He stepped out of his room abruptly, his expression hard and unreadable. His fists were clenched, and the way h
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OLIVIA’S POVI stirred awake to the soft glow of morning light seeping through the curtains, the ache in my head throbbing like a drumbeat. My eyelids fluttered open, the ceiling above me unfamiliar and strange. Confusion weighed heavy on me, and as I shifted to sit up, a sharp, searing pain shot through my skull. A soft yelp escaped my lips before I could stop it.The sound startled Nana and Ben, who were slumped on the chairs beside my bed. Nana’s head jerked up first, her eyes wide with concern. Ben stirred moments later, his face creased with exhaustion and worry.“Olivia!” Nana was by my side in an instant, her hand brushing my forehead to check my temperature. “Oh, thank the goddess, you’re awake!”“How are you feeling?” Ben’s deep voice was soft but tinged with worry as he sat on the edge of the bed.“I…” My throat felt like sandpaper, and I grimaced as I tried to speak. “What happened?”Nana’s gaze darted to Ben, as though asking for permission to speak. Finally, she sighed. “
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LUCIEN’S POVThe sharp chill of the morning air bit into my skin as I ran deeper into the woods, the sound of my feet crunching against the frost-bitten leaves drowning out my thoughts. Or at least, trying to. The roar of my own Lycan—Zephyr—echoed in my head, his voice filled with rage and torment.“Let me take control!” Zephyr growled. His voice, gravelly and raw, pierced through the haze of my mind.“No,” I hissed aloud, the word rasping against my dry throat. My breath came in ragged gasps, and my legs burned with every step, but I couldn’t stop running. I didn’t deserve to stop.The images of last night flashed before my eyes—Olivia’s tear-streaked face, her desperate pleas for me not to push her away again. And then the curse taking hold, the dark tendrils of magic wrapping around me like chains, wrenching control from me.I stumbled, my foot catching on an exposed root, and fell to my knees. Clutching a nearby tree for support, I doubled over, heaving for breath. The memory of
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OLIVIA’S POVThe silence in the car was deafening. I sat with my head tilted against the window, watching the scenery blur as we drove past. My chest felt hollow, my mind replaying the events of the morning on a loop. Lucien’s cold words echoed in my head, each syllable stabbing deeper into my heart. He wanted me gone. Again. Three months ago, I thought I’d come to terms with him pushing me away, but this? This was worse. This time, I had seen a glimpse of him—the real him, the one who held me so tenderly, who whispered my name like it was sacred. And yet, just as quickly, he’d locked that part of himself away, shutting me out as if I were a threat. Tears welled in my eyes as I leaned further into the glass. Why was he doing this to me? Why did fate find joy in ripping me apart? I hated how much I cared, how much I felt for him despite everything. Admitting it to myself felt like succumbing to a sickness, but it was the truth. I felt safe in his hands, I felt like a child without an
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ALARIC’S POVI lingered in the shadows across from Lucien’s estate, the crisp night air biting at my skin. My breath fogged in front of me, curling upward like smoke as I watched her—Olivia—slip out the front door. She moved with that infuriating grace, her dark hair swaying with each step, oblivious to the eyes tracking her every motion. For months, I’d studied her, memorized her routines, her little quirks. The way she tilted her head when she laughed, the way her lips parted when she sighed. She belonged to my brother, Damien, and that gnawed at me like a splinter under my nail. I didn’t need her the way he did. No, this was want—raw, jagged, and relentless.The streetlamp flickered above her as she turned down the path, her boots scuffing against the gravel. She wasn’t driving tonight, which threw me off. I’d expected the hum of her engine, the excuse to trail her from a distance in my car. Instead, she walked, hands stuffed in her pockets, her figure shrinking as she moved towar
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NATALIE’S POVI slumped against the cold stone wall, my wrists raw under the iron cuffs, the heavy chains clinking as I shifted. The air in the chamber stank of damp earth and rust, the flickering torchlight casting jagged shadows across the floor. My legs ached, bound at the ankles, the metal biting into my skin, and my body sagged, too weak to stand. Years—decades, maybe—had bled away in this pit, hidden deep in New Orleans, my strength siphoned, my life a fading ember. The cult had me, Vladimir’s brood, the Order of Selene, and they’d wrung me dry, my rare Thresh power feeding their goddess, keeping her alive while I withered.I tilted my head back, my matted hair sticking to my sweat-slicked neck, and stared at the ceiling, its cracks a map of my prison. I’d been the first alpha of the Thresh pack—female, fierce, a whisper among the nine aristocrat families. We were quiet, low-key, our wealth and influence tucked behind shadows, but our power was unmatched, a gift passed through o
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 98: Shadows of the Moon
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The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 97: Coffee and Confessions
OLIVIA’S POV I leaned against the bedroom doorframe, my arms crossed, watching Dad sip his water, his gray eyes softer than I’d seen in years. The afternoon light spilled through the window, dusting his salt-and-pepper hair with gold, and my chest warmed, a knot unraveling. We’d talked for hours—really talked—about Mom, about Claire, about the mess between us. He’d kicked Claire out, her affairs with Vladimir and half the council finally snapping his patience. More than that, he’d been hunting Mom all this time, years before I’d demanded it, chasing her shadow since the night she vanished from their bed. Relief washed through me, sharp and sweet—he hadn’t forgotten her, hadn’t stopped caring, despite the hate I’d thought he aimed at me. It wasn’t hate, he’d said, his voice cracking—it was her face in mine, her laugh in my laugh, tearing him open every time he looked at me. He’d thought she’d abandoned us, but now he saw it—something bigger, something hidden, had stolen her away. We’
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 96: Booze and Banter
DAMIEN’S POV I slumped onto the rooftop floor beside Lucien, my back against the railing, the cold concrete biting through my suit. The champagne glass dangled in my hand, half-empty, and I stared at it, the bubbles fizzing like the mess in my head. Lucien sprawled next to me, his shirt unbuttoned joggers wrinkles, looking just as wrecked. We’d spilled it all—me begging him to take Olivia, him shoving her back at me—and now we sat, two alphas stumped, no clue how to dodge the heartbreak we’d dump on her if we both bailed.“Refill,” I muttered, tipping my glass toward the bottle between us.Lucien snorted, grabbing it, sloshing more into his own glass first. “You’re a lightweight, Fallenstar. Already slurring?”“Fuck off,” I shot back, smirking as he poured mine, the liquid splashing over the rim. “You’re the one swaying.”He grinned, sloppy and wide, and took a swig, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “What the hell do we do, man? Can’t both ditch her—she’d be a damn joke. L
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LUCIEN’S POV I stood at the kitchen counter, the early morning light spilling through the window, glinting off the coffee mug in my hand. The house was quiet, too quiet, the kind of stillness that pressed against my chest. Olivia was upstairs with her father, Alpha Aaron—had been since he showed up yesterday, his face carved with grief I knew too well. I’d caught their voices late last night, soft and strained, threading through walls. It warmed me, seeing her with him, the rift between them softening after years of jagged edges over Natalie’s disappearance. I’d known her ache for her mother since our marriage—three years of whispered hopes she’d let slip in the dark, her greatest wish a ghost I’d chased for her in secret. Every lead I’d followed—old pack trails, human towns, whispered rumors—crumbled to nothing, a void I couldn’t fill. I’d stopped years ago, convinced Natalie was dead, but I’d never told her, couldn’t bear to snuff out that flicker in her eyes.I sipped the coffee,
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 94: Ashes and Accusations
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The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 93: Echoing in the Void
AALPHA AARON’S POVI slumped in the worn leather chair of my study, the late afternoon sun bleeding through the cracked blinds, casting jagged stripes across the cluttered desk. Papers sprawled before me—maps marked with red Xs, scribbled notes, dead-end leads—all nine months of chasing shadows for Natalie. My fingers curled around the glass of bourbon, the amber liquid trembling as I lifted it to my lips, the burn a fleeting distraction from the ache gnawing at my chest. Olivia’s words echoed, sharp and unyielding: Find Mom, or we’re done. She didn’t know I’d been searching long before she demanded it, years stretching back to that night when my world splintered.The memory clawed its way up, vivid and cruel. Natalie and I had tucked Olivia into bed, her small frame curled under the quilt, her breaths evening out as I finished the last page of her favorite story—The Wolf and the Star. Natalie’s voice had softened the tale, her hand brushing Olivia’s hair, a quiet smile on her lips.
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 92: Whispers of the Heart
OLIVIA’S POVI sat on the edge of the bed, my legs tucked beneath me, watching Lucien’s chest rise and fall in shallow, uneven breaths. The late afternoon sun slanted through the curtains, painting his face in soft gold, the scratch marks I’d left on his cheek still stark against his pale skin. He slept now, his body limp, drained from the curse that had seized him hours ago. Zypher had roared through him, pinning me to the wall, his hands tight around my throat—not him, not really, just the beast Archimedes had forced into him. I’d clawed him back, my nails drawing blood, and he’d crumpled, the violence fading as he sank into this numb, paralyzed state. I pulled the blanket higher, tucking it around his shoulders, my fingers brushing his damp hair.I leaned down, pressing my lips to his forehead, the warmth of his skin grounding me. “You’re always in my heart,” I whispered, my voice barely a breath, knowing he couldn’t hear. “This love—it’s not dying, not ever.” My chest tightened,
