Filed to story: Confirming His Luna by Eyes Novel >>
Did I just get pushed out a window by an ancient deity?
I don’t have time to wonder. I don’t even have time to scream. The world flies past me, flooding my senses as I fall. I get flashes of memories, dreams, wishes, ideas, and everything in between, and I wonder if this is what Alice felt like when she fell down the rabbit hole. Down and down I descend, too fast to think, feel, or react. There is only the fall.
And then there is the end of it.
I flinch at the sudden feeling of something solid beneath me, but it doesn’t hurt. Gasping, I lurch forward, sitting up way too quickly, only to have a wave of dizziness pull me back down as I blink a few times, clearing my vision.
I’m staring up at the ceiling of my bedroom in the nightwalker’s castle, panting for air as my head flops back on the pillow. Everything is too bright and colorful compared to the soft and cohesive white glow of that other place. There are hands on my shoulders, and as some of the fogginess clears, I realize that someone is calling out my name.
Tristan appears, filling my field of vision as he looms over me, his hands brushing some of the hair out of my face as I suck in a shaky breath.
“Iris! Iris, you’re okay. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe. Just stay with me.”
I want to tell him that I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. I want to tell him that I love him more than anything and that I told the Goddess as much before she shoved me out of a magical window. Instead, a single word slips past my lips, raspy and haggard:
“Ow.”
There’s a tightness in my chest that feels decidedly unmagical. Tristan chuckles as I pout, wincing at the discomfort all over my body. I look over at him, and my eyes widen when I see that behind the affectionate laughter, he’s in tears.
“Hey,” I mumble, groggily reaching for his hand. He catches mine in his and brings it to his lips to kiss the backs of my knuckles. “Why are you crying?”
He shuffles on the bed, lying down beside me as I curl up against him, instinctively seeking the comfort of his skin against mine as I try to chase away the soreness clinging to my bones.
“I thought I lost you,” he whispers, wrapping his strong arms around me.
“I’m right here.” I feel drowsy and dopey, but I’m here. He feels solid and warm against me.
Real. This is real. I’m alive. I’m here with him.
“My chest hurts,” I groan, absently rubbing at the spot over my heart. I feel like I’ve been punched.
“Sorry about that,” Tristan says, and I frown.
“What do you mean?”
“You passed out, Iris. Your heart stopped beating. I gave you chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth to try and bring you back, but you were… you were dead,” he explains, his voice catching as if the word physically pained him.
Wait.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as my thoughts start to come into focus. Tristan rubs my shoulder, massaging some of the tension as I raise a hand to my chest.
The thing that restarted my heart… was it the Goddess’s touch or my mate’s? The pain in my sternum from Tristan’s chest compressions feels far more solid and plausible than the hazy memory of a woman made of moonlight. Already it’s starting to fade from my mind, and trying to picture her is like trying to remember a dream after sleep has worn off.
“Can you check for me?” I ask Tristan with my eyes still closed. I’m too nervous to look.
Tristan’s laugh rumbles against me before he replies, his voice still giddy with relief as his other hand lands gently on top of my own, resting reassuringly over my heart.
“You’re awake now, my little flower. I think that means your heart is beating again.”
“No, not my heart,” I shake my head, finally opening my eyes to meet his. “The crescent mark.”
The curse… is it still there?
“Iris… darling…”
“What? Is it still there? It is, isn’t it?” I ask through gritted teeth. “I really thought this would work. I thought she removed it. I—”
“Iris, stop talking and look,” Tristan commands, and I tilt my chin down to stare at my chest.
The mark of the moon is still there, but it’s no longer a crescent-shaped scar on my skin. It doesn’t glow like it did before with a burning sort of light, but when I prop myself up on my elbows to look at it better, it shimmers softly, as if someone ground up pearls and diamonds and used the powder to paint the mark onto my skin rather than engraved it like a birthmark. Instead of the same old shape, the symbol has shifted to become three different phases of the moon pressed against each other, waxing, full, and waning. The waxing moon is represented by a crescent moon facing right, with the full moon represented by a circle in the center, and the waning moon facing left on the other side.
A symbol of the changing phases and the cycle of life: moon maiden, mother, and crone.
“What does it mean?” Tristan asks, his brows furrowing as he crouches in front of me to run his fingertips over the new mark.
“It means something new,” I whisper with a smile. It means that just like the moon itself, the Goddess changes. My fingers brush up against Tristan’s as I trace the outline of the mark, feeling a soft warmth spreading beneath, almost like the magic is acknowledging me.
It feels like a promise. It feels like love. No longer the mark of a curse, but a blessing.
“Does that mean…?” Tristan’s voice trails off, his eyes flickering up to meet mine, and the hope there makes me giddy.
“It means I’m free. The Goddess gave me her blessing.” He laughs in awe, staring at me as though he can’t fully believe it. I take his hand and squeeze it tightly and reassure him, “We’re free to be together.”
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?