Chapter 12 – Confirming His Luna by Eyes Novel

Filed to story: Confirming His Luna by Eyes Novel

How long have I been wandering around the garden, lost in the beauty? Time seems to slow, and I shake my head to clear my thoughts as Tristan’s words register. Little flower, he said.

It’s the loveliest thing anyone has ever called me, and I don’t know how to respond. My heart flutters at the familiarity of the nickname, so casual and sweet.

“I’m sorry to interrupt. Lucy said I could explore the gardens, but I didn’t mean to bother you.”

Tristan just watches me with a trace of curiosity. He quirks his head to the side as if listening to something imperceptible before saying, “Lucy and Nico will be back soon. She says you haven’t eaten, and you did not want to join them on their run.”

I bite my lower lip, averting my gaze. “I wasn’t feeling up for it,” I reply, ignoring his comment about eating. I’m used to hunger, and I imagine it’s apparent just from looking at me, but I’d rather not talk about it.

“Mark and Amara are having lunch by the lake. We’ll join them, and Lucy can meet you there when you two are ready to head into town,” he says plainly.

There is no question or request behind it, but it feels too soft to consider it an order. Though he doesn’t say much, when he does speak, he says things simply and shamelessly. I’m not sure exactly why I find it reassuring, but I nod timidly, glancing over my shoulder as he stands from the piano.

Before we leave, I can’t help but wonder, “Does… does the enchantment on the villa create the flowers in the garden? Or does it just maintain the grounds?”

He stops, looking over my shoulder at the greenery behind me. “A bit of both. The plants are real, but the spell creates the conditions for them to grow. You’re welcome to work in the garden if you like.”

I blink in surprise, thinking of how Lucy explained the self-sufficient spell on the Villa du Lac. “Doesn’t the magic do all the gardening?”

“Yes, but living things thrive most when they are cared for. Magic or not, I’m sure the garden would appreciate the attention. That is, if you want to,” he explains, and I agree so quickly that I nearly trip over myself as I nod in excitement.

We stop only for a moment at the doorway of the hall when Tristan pauses to look down at the daisy I’m still twirling in my hands.

“May I?” he asks, and I hand him the flower obediently.

I suck in a breath as he reaches out to tuck a loose strand of wavy blonde hair out of my face, securing the flower’s stem behind my ear. I swear I can feel warmth sparking my cheek where the back of his hand brushes against my skin, but before the sensation grows further, he pulls away.

After that, I follow Tristan without another word. He leads me to a veranda overlooking the lake, where Mark and Amara are enjoying what appears to be an extravagant buffet of snack food. The table is covered in plates filled with fresh fruits, nuts, bread, cheeses, and meats.

Mark notices us approaching and glowers, but his mate shoots him a warning glare, and the Beta says nothing as Tristan and I take a seat at the table. We eat in strained silence, and Amara offers me a tight-lipped smile that I can only assume is some kind of peace offering after the tension from the last meal we shared.

When Lucy finally arrives, panting slightly and still in the middle of buttoning up a cardigan, there’s an almost imperceptible exhale of relief from those of us gathered at the table. I can tell I’m not the only one who finds Lucy’s cheery and personable demeanor a welcome distraction from the Rovers’ brooding Beta and his hauntingly graceful mate.

“Why so serious?” she says with a bright smile, pulling up the chair beside me.

Behind her, a scrawny fellow with bright orange hair and blue eyes trails out onto the veranda, also out of breath. He looks one or two years older than Lucy.

“Hi, I’m Nico.” He beams at me as he sits at the table, revealing a lopsided smile and crooked teeth that give him a boyish charm.

The Rogue’s Gamma. He’s not exactly what I expected.

Tristan radiates power and authority; Mark sits beside him with an imposing sense of boldness and loyalty; and Amara holds her head high with an aura of wisdom and patience that’s somehow even more intimidating than her mate’s bulky build. Even Lucy, with her warm smile and fondness for gossip, has a wickedly clever glint in her grey eyes that hints at something sharp and devilish under her bubbly surface.

But Nico seems… just… sort of… goofy looking?

“Welcome to the Rover family, flower girl,” he says, his bright blue eyes darting to the daisy I’d forgotten was tucked behind my ear.

“Actually,” Lucy chimes in, “since we’re welcoming a new member to the pack, I thought maybe we could play a little game so our guest can get to know us better.”

Tristan sighs and leans back in his chair as Mark groans loudly, and Amara rolls her eyes while Nico makes a sour face. I get the sense that this isn’t the first time Lucy has dragged them into something like this. Lucy remains undeterred as she helps herself to some bread and jam. She proceeds to explain her own version of twenty-one questions—one person will ask someone else a question, then that person must answer honestly before choosing the next question for another player.

The premise is simple enough, but the idea of asking them about themselves, and worse, having them ask about me… it’s enough to tie my stomach in a knot.

“I’ll go first,” Lucy proclaims through a mouthful of toast and cheese. “My question is for Mark.”

“Oh boy,” Nico mutters under his breath as Mark shifts uncomfortably in his seat under his sister’s gaze.

“Mark, how did a big doofus like you end up mated to a goddess like that?” Lucy says playfully, a mischievous grin curling her lips as she points between her brother and Amara.

“By not acting like an immature child all the time and taking things seriously,” Mark huffs pointedly, brows furrowing over his grey eyes as he sets down the apple he’d been peeling. “But while we’re all here playing games and admitting things… Nico, my question is for you. What the hell do you see in my sister that makes you like her so much, and when are you going to do something about it?”

Amara kicks her mate under the table, and you could slice through the silence that follows with a knife. In fact, Lucy looks like she’s actually considering it. Her face has turned a furious shade of red, her freckles blending into the rosiness of her cheeks as she stares daggers at her brother.

That was unkind. I do not have to know them well to understand that Mark just crossed an unspoken sort of line, and I can’t help but look in Nico’s direction.

The red-haired boy has gone rigid in his seat, and after an awkward minute, he unfurls his fingers from the white-knuckled fist he’d clenched them into. Whatever his feelings are for Lucy, it’s obviously not something he’d like to discuss openly.

Tristan scowls at his Beta, who seems to instantly regret the low blow toward his sister at Nico’s expense. Mark returns his attention to the half-peeled apple, pouting like a child that knows they’ve said something they shouldn’t have.

“Sorry, big guy, that’s two questions,” Nico says at last, leaning forward slightly as if forcing himself to adopt a more relaxed posture, his eyes adamantly avoiding Lucy’s. “But to answer the first… I like that Lucy didn’t inherit her brother’s temper. She always sees the good in people, and she makes the best out of the most awkward situations.”

I can’t help but admire the carelessness of his shrug and the ease of his smile. Mark just exposed this boy’s feelings. But after the initial shock of Mark’s rude revelation, Nico takes the situation in stride as if it were all a good-natured joke, maneuvering the discomfort with humor and diplomacy.

Maybe not so goofy after all.

“Alrighty then, my turn,” Nico goes on, and I wonder what sort of sorry fate the red-haired boy would have faced with the Bane pack instead of the Rovers. Viktor only valued the kind of strength used to destroy and dominate. Where my uncle would have only seen weakness, the Rogue King saw someone worthy of being his Gamma.

Every attempt to protect me from Tristan, every friendly smile from Lucy or appeasing gesture from Amara, every open window and lovely flower in the enchanted garden…

This place—this pack—is nothing like I thought it would be.

Awkwardness and odd ends included, the Rovers are good people, and I can’t help but wonder if this is what home is supposed to feel like. Before I can ponder that any further, Nico turns toward his Alpha, and I feel Tristan stiffen beside me as the game continues.

“My question is for you, boss,” Nico says, his words casual. “Are you actually planning on marking your lovely new mate? Or did you just claim her as part of some mysterious scheme we should know about?”

**************************************

Mark’s eyes widen, the corner of his lip twitching almost imperceptibly with the trace of a relieved smile as he realizes he’s no longer the boldest one at the table. The inappropriate nature of his own question is instantly forgotten as everyone’s eyes turn toward Tristan.

I swallow hard, setting down the juicy pear I’d been about to sink my teeth into and staring down at my hands.

“Sophie’s vision revealed that my… mate” —Tristan says the word with some difficulty— “is tied to the future of our pack, and it was in the Rovers’ best interest for me to find her.”

Amara leans forward in her seat, her thick brows furrowing. “So this isn’t just about the mating bond?” she asks.

Lucy scoffs. “Of course it isn’t. You know Tristan. Since when does he- ow!” Before she can finish, Amara kicks her under the table, glancing between Tristan and me in a pointed warning.

What was Lucy about to reveal?

“But is she even your mate until you’ve marked her?” Mark asks, and I’m surprised to find that there’s no malice behind his question this time, only genuine confusion and curiosity.

“It’s not like we’re expecting you to throw some big mating ceremony,” Nico adds. “But are you going to make it official? Is flower girl over here going to be the new Luna of the Rovers or just our guest?”

Luna? Me?

I feel beyond foolish for not having thought of it sooner. Of course, Tristan is the Alpha of his own pack, and if I’m his mate, then that would naturally make me his Luna. Yet, somehow, the notion never even crossed my mind.

This whole thing has been unconventional, to say the least, and even though he’s been kinder to me than I could have expected, he also made it clear that he’s not fond of my uncle and my old pack. Besides, I’m hardly the stuff of leaders. I’ve been a slave my entire life, a freak. Not to mention the fact that I don’t have a wolf. Can I be a proper mate if I’m not even a true shifter?

I certainly can’t be a proper Luna.

“For now, the girl is my guest. The rest does not concern you,” Tristan says sharply, to which Nico makes a dissatisfied sort of grimace.

“Well, according to Sophie’s vision, this concerns the entire pack, so excuse me for wanting a little clarification,” Nico says, folding his arms over his chest, eyes darting between his Alpha and me.

“The boy has a point,” Amara adds softly, and I can almost sense Tristan’s resentment as he glares over at her as if to say, ‘Really? You too?’

“Come on, boss,” Mark huffs. “You’re saying this girl may or may not be the future of the Rovers, and she may or may not become your Luna. But we don’t actually know anything about her. Who is she? Has she even told us her name?”

I wince at this. Even if I gave Mark the answer, he would not like it. A nameless servant mongrel as a Luna would undoubtedly be unwelcome. I curl into myself with shame, shoulders hunched as I try to make myself small enough to disappear, but as I shrink in my seat, Tristan straightens.

“Don’t,” he snarls. “Don’t talk about her as if she’s not sitting right here.” Tristan’s voice is low and husky, so quiet in a barely controlled sort of way. The threat is so plainly written in his eyes as he speaks that, even though he’s perfectly still in his chair, he’s never seemed more dangerous.

The color drains from the Beta’s face, and I get the sense Mark’s just stepped on a landmine.

I don’t speak, I don’t move, I don’t even breathe as two males stare at each other with an intensity I have never seen on Tristan’s handsome features.

“I think that’s enough questions and games for now, wouldn’t you agree, Lucy?” Amara says at last, and her words slice through the silence. Her expression is calm and controlled.

“Indeed, we wouldn’t want King’s little flower to lose her appetite because of our poor table manners,” she replies lightly, sliding a cheese board over to me with a friendly smile. I nod at her, hoping he can see the gratitude in my eyes as some of the tension thins from the air.

I glance over at Tristan, who’s still glaring at his Beta. Mark, bulky and muscled as he is, dons the expression of a dog with a tail between his legs.

“Right, then. Let’s hurry and eat so we can head downtown,” Lucy adds, eager to change the subject, and Nico quickly nods in agreement. “There’s a little shop that sells the prettiest sweaters, and we should probably get you some new shoes while we’re there.”

I’m still wearing the same scruffed-up brown flats from the day of Oscar’s mating ceremony. Though I’m in no position to be asking for favors, I really could use a decent pair of boots… especially if I’m going to be working in the gardens and walking around the moss-covered cobbles of the Rovers’ quaint town.

We finish lunch in tentative pleasantness, with everyone falling into a casual sort of meaningless chatter. Amara inquires about the stores Lucy and I are going to visit and makes a few suggestions. Mark asks Nico about his run earlier. The males fall into easy banter, arguing over whether Mark’s brute strength makes him fast enough to outrun Nico’s own speed and agility. The conversation wraps up as we finish our meal, and Lucy points out that Tristan could easily run circles around both of them. The Rogue Alpha merely smiles to himself.

Once we’ve eaten, Lucy happily drags me away from the veranda, and I’m surprised when Amara asks to join us. She presses a kiss to her mate’s forehead before we leave and, though she’s still stern and imposing, I’m starting to find her presence somewhat soothing.

As we head back through the villa to the main exit, I glance over my shoulder and see Nico poking at Mark’s side, and the other laughs and bats his hand away while Tristan smiles to himself.

Even when they argued, there was no actual fighting. No physical show of force, no insults exchanged, nor punishments issued for doubting and offending the Alpha’s word.

I’m beginning to understand just how different Rovers are from the Banes.

My uncle had pack elders and advisors, but they did not challenge or question him. They were his minions more than his council. However, each of the Rovers, mismatched as they may be, seems to have a clear part to play in the pack. Mark is obviously the muscle of the group, strong and stubborn to a fault but loyal down to his bones. Lucy is charming and disarmingly kind. She’s clearly cunning underneath her sweet smile, and I suspect she listens just as much as she talks, which says a lot. Nico is clever and agile in his own way. From what I’ve heard, he’s a sharp scout with a quick foot and a keen sense of curiosity. Then there’s Amara, with her dark eyes full of patience and wisdom. She is the anchor of the pack, steady and certain amid the chaos.

They’re a family, and maybe… maybe I’d like to become a part of it.

---