Chapter 15 – Confirming His Luna by Eyes Novel

Filed to story: Confirming His Luna by Eyes Novel

That night, I don’t join the others for dinner.

I didn’t exactly leave things on great terms with Tristan, and now that I know more about him, I feel even more unsure of my capacity to face him. I’d suspected he had his reservations about the mating bond. Still, I’d never imagined his mistrust of it ran so deep.

Of course, it probably doesn’t help that I come from a pack ruled by another tyrannical Alpha. Not to mention the fact that I’ve pushed him away repeatedly, even as I feel as though there is something deep within me pulling me toward me.

I rub the crescent-shaped birthmark under my collarbone, trying to see if that strange, stinging pain returns. The tightness in my chest has receded, and I’ve only felt that flash of freezing burning twice, but it frightens me in a way I cannot quite express. The pain that coursed through my heart when Tristan had almost kissed me felt unlike anything I’ve ever experienced, dark and unnatural, crushing my chest and suffocating any hint of desire.

But as I scratch at my skin and poke at my chest, everything feels fine. There’s no soreness, no lingering trace of that violet ache.

Outside, the moon is casting a silvery glow over the landscape, and from where I’m standing on the terrace, I can see the way the light ripples on the surface of the lake. There’s a soft breeze that makes it sound like voices whispering in the wind. For a moment, I swear I can almost make out words carried in the air, but then I shake my head and the sounds are gone.

I need to clear my thoughts. First, there was the confusing encounter with Tristan, then the revelation of the Rovers’ history, and now I’m hearing whispers in the wind. I’m probably just tired, but even as I look out at the glistening water of the lake, I can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

An awful, stupid, reckless idea begins to form in the back of my mind. As the breeze picks up again, howling softly in the night, I square my jaw and decide to head down to the lake, drawn by the prospect of the serene surface under the moonlight.

The hardwood floor is cool under my bare feet as I make my way through the manor. I make sure to avoid the dining room, where I suspect Tristan and his inner circle are having dinner. I doubt I’ll be missed, especially considering everything I know about them now.

There’s a cobbled path that leads out the back of the villa toward the edge of the lake. The moon illuminates the path, casting shadows from the surrounding trees. As I walk, I can hear the gentle rustling of leaves in the trees and the distant chirping of crickets, and I soak in the sounds of the night. The air is cool and crisp, but surprisingly, I don’t feel cold. The path is smooth but uneven beneath my feet.

Farther along, there’s a faint sound of splashing in the distance. As I get closer, the sound becomes more distinct as the breeze carries the small tide at the edge of the lake. I can smell the crisp, clean scent of the water, tinged with the aroma of wildflowers and a sharp tinge of pine trees.

Eventually, I come to stand at the edge, my eyes fixed on the water that stretches out before me. The lake is still and serene, reflecting the moonlight in a shimmering silver surface that seems to blend seamlessly into the night. Again, the wind seems to whisper around me, and my gaze follows the ripples on the surface of the lake with every surreal gust.

Something about those dark waters calls to me, mysterious yet inviting. I’m overcome with the desire to feel clean, to step into that lake and let it wash away the remnants of a life that is starting to feel more and more like a distant nightmare.

This lake is a work of art, a canvas of natural beauty that seems to have been painted by the hand of the Goddess herself. The clarity of the water, the shimmering moonlight, the rustling of the leaves, and that deep whisper of the wind have an almost hypnotic effect. I take a deep breath, inhaling the beauty of the night and wishing I could disappear into it.

I want to be clean. Every scar, every bruise, every place where Oscar beat me, every trace of his friend’s assaults, every wicked word I wear on my skin like a tattoo… I want to soak it all off and let it sink to the bottom of this lake.

So, in spite of the cool night and the nipping wind, I begin to undress. I slip out of my new clothes until I’m wearing nothing but a matching set of white panties and a bra, chosen by a rather enthusiastic Lucy.

I should feel cold, but somehow being out here just makes me feel awake, and I wonder if it has to do with the enchantment on these grounds. Or perhaps this place was lovely long before the witch’s spell, before the time of Ector and Elaine, back when this land did not know heartbreak or hatred.

I try to tell myself I’m being ridiculous. I probably shouldn’t even be out here. Though the Rovers insist on me being their guest, I shouldn’t forget that I am a prisoner in this situation. While I was allowed to wander the gardens and the village with Lucy by my side, they said nothing about the lake.

I step in, the water refreshing and crisp enough to send a strangely pleasant sort of jolt through me.

I should walk away and put my clothes back on. I should head inside and go straight to my room and forget all about the whispering night and the promise of purity. No lake, no matter how beautiful, can possibly wash away the things I have lived through.

But, by the Goddess, I want to try, so I take a deep breath and wade farther out into the water.

 

As I sink deeper into the dark waters of the lake, I can feel the pressure building around me. The sound of my heartbeat is amplified, a constant thumping in my ears. It’s as if the lake itself is alive and pulsing, each beat reverberating through my body.

I’m struck by the initial shock of the cold water. But that discomfort is short-lived as a sensation of warmth spreads within me as if a fire has been lit in my veins, heating my blood until the chilled waters no longer feel unpleasant on my skin. It’s a strange and unfamiliar feeling, but not altogether unpleasant.

I sink deeper into the dark, murky depths of the lake until I’m submerged up to my chin. In that moment of quiet, I’m stunned when I can still hear the strange whispering wind, almost like a song that seems to be calling out to me from some distant place.

The whispers are almost melodic, haunting in their beauty. They swirl around me like a delicate veil, carrying the weight of some deep, hidden meaning. And as I listen, the words become clearer, more defined.

‘Holly and hound, willow and wisp, flower and flame.’

This is not the wind.

The words echo in my mind, and for a moment, I am completely captivated. But then the voice grows stronger and clearer, and I’m struck with the certainty that it’s not just some figment of my imagination. It’s as if the voice is speaking directly to my soul, calling out to some primal part of me that I didn’t even know existed.

I rub my eyes and struggle to shake off the sensation that I’m caught in some kind of dream. But the voice seems to be getting stronger as I move deeper into the lake, farther from the villa.

‘Daughter of moonlight and darkness, born of brimstone and betrayal.’

The voice is deep and resonant, like the low rumble of thunder on the horizon. It speaks with a fierce intensity, each word ringing out like a bell in the stillness of the water.

My heart races in my chest, and I can feel the blood pulsing in my veins. I’m seized by a sudden urge to respond. Without thinking, I take a deep breath and plunge my head into the water, immersing myself completely in the dark, swirling depths. The water is like a cocoon, surrounding me with a sense of weightlessness.

‘I hear you,’ I think, the words forming silently in my mind.

In that moment, I’m struck by the feeling that I’m communicating telepathically like most wolves do. Did I just mindlink with someone?

It’s an unsettling thought but one that’s quickly overtaken by a more pressing concern. Who am I talking to?

A chill runs down my spine as the voice replies, ‘And I see you, child. I see you, and I know you at last. Come home to me…’

I surface once again with a gasp, sucking in air as fear courses through me. ‘Who are you? How are you doing this? What do you want?’ I ask the voice in my mind.

But my panicked questions are interrupted by another voice.

“Flower! Where are you?”

The sound is like a lifeline, pulling me back to reality. I struggle to steady my breathing in an attempt to collect my thoughts. As I look around, I realize how far I’ve drifted from the shore, how deep into the lake I’ve gone.

“Are you out here?!”

This voice is real. It’s not coming from me, nor the wind, nor from a mindlink. It’s frustrated and familiar, and it’s coming from the path that leads to the villa.

It’s Tristian… and he doesn’t sound happy.

Shit.

I swim towards the edge of the lake, feeling the water clinging to my skin like a second layer. I’m such a fool. I shouldn’t have come out here. As I swim, I chastise myself for wandering so far from the manor and for exposing myself to danger. Who knows what sort of creature I’ve unwittingly allowed into my head?

Tristan warned me that the Rovers have many enemies, but I got reckless. I was stupid enough to feel safe, and now I’ve mind linked with a stranger.

As if answering my thoughts, the voice calls out one more time, quieter now that I’m closer to the water’s edge. I shiver involuntarily, my skin prickling with goosebumps as it echoes in my mind.

‘What do I want? Child, I told you that already. I want you to come home to me. I want you.’

I trudge out of the water, frantically dragging myself onto the bank of the lake. The voice flickers out and fades into silence as if too far away to reach me now that I’m heaving myself across slick stones and mossy pebbles of the shore toward the villa.

“Girl, where are you?!” Tristan’s voice calls out again, a few yards away from where I’ve emerged from the lake. His voice is husky and uneven.

What have I done?

I didn’t mean to upset him. I didn’t mean to stay out so late or wander so far. But I couldn’t face him, not after hearing what he thought of the mating bond. I was too much of a coward to confront his weariness and contempt of me and everything that I represent.

Is he angry that I missed dinner? Or does he think I’ve tried to run away? I’m still shaking, though I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or the fear.

Now that I’m out, the night breeze bites my wet skin. My undergarments are soaked, and my hair is dripping, but I left my clothes farther up the shore, closer to the path where Tristan is searching for me.

How can I tell the Rovers that I wanted to swim in the lake and wash away stains on my soul that went deeper than my scarred skin? And how the hell can I explain that I heard a voice in my head that called out to me? Did I really just mindlink with a random creature in these lands? How is that even possible? And who was it exactly? Or what? And why?

Too many questions swirl around my head, and I feel a sense of frustration and unease deep in my gut. I couldn’t face Tristan before, and I sure as hell can’t now.

I’m out of the lake, but I’m dizzy and drowning in my thoughts. I can’t find my clothes, which means I’m drenched and shivering in my underthings, and I’m not sure if I should run toward Tristan or try to hide from him.

Before I can weigh my options, I lose my balance, too scared and disoriented to find my way in the dark. In my haste, my bare foot slips on a mossy stone by the water’s edge, and then the world falls around me.

I’m not sure if I faint from the fear and fatigue, or if it’s from the blow to my head, but the last thing I hear is Tristan’s worried voice calling out to me before everything goes black.

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