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Chapter 7: The Weight of the Past
Last Updated:
2024-12-05 01:10:15
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The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 8: A Father’s Scorn
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Damon’s POVMy study was a cavern of silence, the only light coming from the silver of moonlight creeping through the cracks of the heavy curtains. It cast eerie shapes on the walls, but I didn’t bother looking at them. I sat in my chair, back to the door, staring at nothing. The weight of the evening pressed against my chest, threatening to suffocate me. Olivia Black.Her name alone was a curse, ringing through my thoughts, unrelenting and cruel. Malakai, my wolf, had been uncharacteristically quiet all night, save for the occasional growl when her scent invaded my senses. It was maddening, this pull, this bond that I neither wanted nor asked for.I closed my eyes, leaning back in the chair as the memories of the mating ceremony replayed in my mind.I had walked into that hall expecting a dull, pointless event—just another show of wolves looking to secure alliances through a mate bond. But then I saw her. Olivia.She’d been standing by the far corner, her dark green dress flowing l
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Olivia’s POVThe garden was quiet, save for the faint rustle of the wind teasing the leaves. It should’ve been a peaceful place, a sanctuary from the chaos of the last few days, but tonight it felt heavy, like the weight of the world had settled here with me. I sat on the cold stone bench, head buried between my knees, arms wrapped tightly around myself. The crisp night air bit at my skin, but I barely noticed. My thoughts were louder than the wind, circling endlessly as I tried to make sense of the mess I was in.What would my mother say if she was here?She would’ve known what to do. She always did. But now, all I had were memories of her voice, faint whispers of advice that felt so far out of reach.The sound of footsteps crunching against the gravel path pulled me from my thoughts. I didn’t bother looking up, too tired to care who it was.“Figured I’d find you here.”That voice.I lifted my head slowly, my swollen eyes meeting the familiar grin of Ben. He stood a few steps away,
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Olivia’s POVThe sound of Ben’s footsteps fading into the distance was oddly comforting and yet so terribly isolating. I stayed rooted to the garden bench, the night air clinging to my skin like a damp shroud. The solitude stretched on, but the house loomed behind me, its dark window an unspoken reminder that I couldn’t avoid what was waiting inside forever.With a heavy sigh, I pushed myself up and trudged toward the house. Every step felt like dragging a weight behind me. The warm glow of the chandelier in the foyer was deceptive, masking the chill that always seemed to hang in the air when I stepped inside. As soon as I closed the door behind me, her voice cut through the silence like a dagger.“Where the hell have you been?”I didn’t need to look to know it was her—Claire, my stepmother. Her voice carried that same venom it always did, sharp and cutting, as if each word was chosen to wound.“I was just outside,” I said evenly, forcing myself to meet her gaze. She stood at the bas
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Olivia’s POVThe whiskey burned as it slid down my throat, but it wasn’t enough to dull the ache in my chest. I set the glass down harder than intended, the sharp clink of glass on wood drawing the bartender’s wary eyes. I didn’t care. Let them stare. Let them whisper. Let them judge. What was left of my dignity had already crumbled under the weight of tonight. And yeah with the presence of my two mates watching at me from behind I guess I have no dignity at all. The low hum of the club’s music throbbed in the background, but it did little to drown out my thoughts. My father’s words, his cold dismissal, echoed louder than any baseline. I had nowhere to go, no one to turn to or maybe I still had one last person to turn to—Ben. Ben’s number was still pulled up on my phone, but I hadn’t really pressed call again. What would I even say? Is it for him to hurry and come over to save me from the show of you owns me between these two Alphas behind me? Cause I can already smell the rift. The
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Olivia’s POVIt had started raining on my way back—funny how I preferred to walk in the rain instead of summoning my wolf form to phase through the rain. The rain soaked through my clothes, the cold biting against my skin as I pushed open the door to Damon’s apartment. My hair clung to my face, droplets trickling down my neck . The familiar scent of pinewood and cedar hit me first, followed by something darker—tension. It hung heavy in the air like a storm waiting to break.I stepped inside, shaking off the rain, and froze.They were both there. Lucien leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his usually warm hazel eyes dark with unease. His shirt was torn at the sleeve, exposing fresh scratches on his forearm. Damon sat on the couch, casual as ever, one leg draped lazily over the other. His expression was unreadable, though the sharp glint in his silver eyes betrayed his amusement. “How cute,” Damon drawled, his gaze flickering between Lucien and me. “Your knight in shining armor act
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Olivia’s POVThe faint light of dawn streamed through the window, brushing against my face. The soft chirping of birds was the only sound in the otherwise silent room. I stirred, stretching under the covers, but a weight in the room made my eyes snap open. Lucien stood at the edge of the bed, his hazel eyes locked on me with an intensity that sent a jolt of fear down my spine. His presence filled the room like a shadow, and for a brief, terrifying moment, memories of his wolf’s rage came rushing back—the growls, the snapping teeth, the way he’d lost control. I sat up quickly, the blanket clutched tightly in my fists. My heart pounded in my chest as I searched his face for a sign of danger. “Lucien,” I whispered, my voice trembling. “What are you doing here again?”His eyes softened, and he took a step back, his hands raised in a gesture of surrender. “I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said quietly, his voice rough like gravel.“Then why were you standing there?” I demanded, unable to
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The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 100: The Scent of Envy
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The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 99: Chains of the Moon
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
ARCHIMEDES’ POVI sat at the edge of my desk, the evening shadows stretching long across the study, the flicker of the oil lamp casting a warm glow over the cluttered maps and journals. My fingers traced the rim of the whiskey glass, the amber liquid untouched, my mind too tangled to drink. A crumpled note lay beside it, delivered an hour ago by one of my scouts—Damien Fallenstar had stormed into Lucien’s mansion that morning, stayed till dusk, his face carved with urgency. They didn’t know why, couldn’t guess what dragged him there, but I felt it, a ripple in the web I’d spun many years ago, tugging at threads I thought I’d buried.I leaned back, the leather chair creaking under my weight, my graying hair catching the light as I rubbed my temples. Lucien—my son, not by blood but by bond—hadn’t crossed my path in too long, his life a storm I’d only glimpsed through whispers. Damien showing up there, unannounced, frantic—it gnawed at me, a puzzle I couldn’t leave unsolved. I knew Dam
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
The Luna's Tattoos Chapter 95: Tangled Bonds and Silent Sacrifices
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
DAMIEN’S POVI gripped the steering wheel, my knuckles whitening as the engine purred beneath me, the road stretching toward the burial ground. The black suit clung to me, sharp and tailored, the fabric cool against my skin despite the heat rising in my chest. My hair fell forward, one strand brushing my eye, and I left it there, a shield against the world I was about to face. Daiki’s voice rang in my ears from earlier, his broad hand on my shoulder, his tone urgent. “You don’t have to go, Master Damien. Pay your respects quiet—here, at home. They’ll tear you apart out there.”I’d shrugged him off, my jaw tight, and climbed into the car anyway. The Hales deserved more than silence. Thomas had dragged me from the woods at sixteen, blood-soaked and half-dead, my family’s slaughter still wet on my hands. Elena had stitched my wounds, fed me, their home a refuge when the packs turned their backs. I owed them this, even if it meant facing the fire. The clearing came into view, a somber c
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,
