"Get off me, you pervert."
I managed to say it within a heartbeat, even though I wanted him close, which is something I don't understand, I know that's not the best idea. After a second he was out of my sight, slamming the door behind.
What a gentleman.
–––⸻✧⸻–––
The garden was beautiful and admirable, it might be the most peaceful place I've seen in a while until a bitch decided to ruin it.
"Don't get your hopes high,"
I turned around, and met with an almost beauty. Only if her words were as pretty as her face, I would have given her the title of beauty. Right now, she's almost beautiful.
"And you are?" I asked in my calmest and most positive thoughts as a smile crept on her red painted lips.
She stepped closer, tilting her head,
"Selene Whitesburg. Luna of the Shadowfang Pack and Damien Blackwood's fated mate."
She included the Luna part on purpose because she thought it would hit me hard. And honestly, it hit harder than what I expected. I had assumed she was close to Damien, seeing her hands running all over his arm.
But had I thought she was his mate? No.
And her intention was clear: Stay away from my man.
"Ah, I see." Was all I could utter, her gaze traveled up and down on me and finally I got the courage to say this out loud. "You seem to like my body a little too much."
She was surprised then, she burst out laughing. Her honeyed toned laughter filled the air as she wiped her imaginary tears.
"Forgive me, I keep looking—I'm simply not used to seeing confidence worn louder than clothing."
She laughs again and now I just want to pull her perfect styled hair.
"I understand—it must be jarring seeing someone comfortable in their own skin."
She stopped laughing and her smile turned into glare and she stepped on my feet, hard enough to leave a mark.
"Stay away from my mate, he has been looking out for you a little too much. If you become a crack in our relationship, I will make sure you regret your existence."
Saying that she stormed off leaving me there with an aching feet. I glanced down and saw blood shining from where her heel thrust in my skin.
–––⸻✧⸻–––
Ouch.
Currently, I was applying ointment on the scar, bitchy Luna left as a welcome gift and it stings. I hate everyone here.
I sniffed, wiping a tear that I didn't even know escaped my eye and then another tear fell off and I groaned.
Why am I crying? I haven't done anything wrong except for existing.
Just before I could wipe my tears, someone else wiped it for me. Damien leaned down, to meet my level as I was sitting on the carpeted floor of the room I was provided.
"Who did this to you?"
His voice held a bit of possessiveness and rage but I was more angered to make sense of it.
"Oh, just your darling Luna being her usual charming self."
His eyes flickered to my feet then back to my eyes. Something ignited inside those obsidian orbs.
"She's not my Luna. She's a strategic alliance from our parents."
"You mean your fiancé?"
He did not reply, instead grabbed the ointment before sitting on the floor cross legged. I stared at him as he applied the ointment, gently.
How can he switch from sour to sweet so fast?
"I like you better when you're like this." I said.
Hsi eyes locked with mine for a moment, hand stiffened slightly, but he didn't stop.
"You like a lot of things you shouldn't."
Damn. Before I know it, my hands travel up to his collar before l climb into his lap. A hint of surprise crosses his face.
"If liking the wrong things feels this good, I don't think I want to be right."
What the hell is wrong with me? I don't know. It's like my wolf is controlling me, my hands wrap around his neck and he slightly pushes back, shifting.
"What are you doing Eva?"
"What you were about to do in that training room a week ago."
His breath was hot against my mouth. I could feel his pulse thrumming under my hands, where they clung to the collar of his shirt. His eyes searched mine—like he was trying to find a reason not to do what we both clearly wanted.
"Eva…" he whispered, voice a rasp of restraint. "Don't play with fire."
"Who says I'm playing?" I whispered back.
He hissed in a breath, his hands moving to grip my waist, fingers digging in like he was trying to anchor himself.
But his control was unraveling.
I could feel it in the way his body tensed beneath me, the way his gaze dipped to my lips like they were the answer to a question he never wanted to ask.
"You're dangerous," he muttered.
"And you're not?" I leaned in more. "You threw me on a bed a few minutes ago, remember?"
Something snapped in his gaze then—a shift. Like his wolf was clawing to the surface.
"Don't tempt me."
I leaned in, my lips close to his lips, enough to feel his breath and just before I was about to connect our mouths, a knock on the door ruined the moment.
Or woke me up from my little wild self.