The Vengeful Return Of His Unwanted Luna

anna

moonlight to navigate through the maze of exotic plants. The humid air, thick

twig snapped under my heel. The sound was like a gunshot

s, hitting me straight in the eyes. I threw an arm

and menacing. They were Cameron's warriors, the

re stepped out f

n

he damp greenhouse. The sharp click-clack of her heels on the fla

ice dripping with mock swe

for words

r from my coat. The blade caught the moonl

ng an instinctive step back. The fe

n hardened into a vic

hifting in a partial transformation. Claws e

my throat had been a second before. I brought the dagger around

ny as the silver burned his flesh. The a

tack from the front. Instead, he kicked out

potting shelf, the impact knocking the air from my lungs. Pain exp

raised her foot, the stiletto heel of her shoe poised

ought

that shot up my arm. A choked gasp was torn from my throat as my fingers went num

nd yanking my head back. Her face was inches fro

her voice a venomous whisper. "I'm taking e

ed hotter. I gathered the blood and saliva i

ry. She wiped the spittle away with the back of her hand and s

lectricity seized my muscles, and another crack of

eful footsteps sounded a

me

s of the manor, a long, dark coat draped over his

licker of hope ignited in my chest

e. He looked at me like I was something v

pression melted away, replaced by one of te

embling finger at the silver dagger lying in the dirt. "Sh

rrior's blood. His expression turned murderous. He truly believed h

focating. He stood over my broken bod

d, his voice cold and devoid of any emotion. "You have committed

d into a fit of coughing. Blood splattered onto the whi

pulled out a long, slender blade. A silver h

e said, his voice fl

sed th

d through the air with

ight shoulder, where

being, a white-hot agony that burned away thought, sound, and

and pooled on the ground, turning the white roses to a sickening

handkerchief. He turned, wrapped his arm around Ana's shoulders,

their footsteps rec

s al

their retreating backs, the image burning into my dying mind. The despa

a

I felt before the dark

o pain. Nob

on for eternity. I was floating, a disembodi

he edge of my awareness, memories

ch her. I saw them beat her, her life ending on the cold stone floor of the servants' quar

ing a heavy red cloak and a bronze tusk mask to hide my identity. I was dragging a half-dead Cameron through the snow, his

ved

lver blade. I had saved the man who would one day

ilver glow. A voice, ancient and powerful, whispered in my mind. It was not made of

s falling, tumbling through the darkness, the sens

ung-filling gasp, a

a frantic rhythm against my