Swapped Luna part 14

Previously…

THORNE
They flinch away from me as if I'm the one that's insane.

As I walk away, I hear someone ask, "Where can we find you later if we need you?"

"I'm going to see your Luna. She's got quite the story to tell."

PRESENTLY…

VICTORIA

"Maeve. No. Victoria, right?"

I stare at the Alpha before me. The utterly deranged man who is covered in his dead Beta's blood. Pacing before me in only shorts that hang low on his hips.

I sit with my back straight against a chair. My hands clenched so hard that my nails dig into my skin. Soon, Thorne won't be the only bloody one in the room.

I get it now. Why werewolves are such majestic beings and yet most of the human tales inspire fear. It's because of men like him. Alphas. Powerful and stunning even as they pace with the scent of death trailing behind them.

"How are you finding the place?" he asks me, gesturing to the small room with white walls and carefully designed furniture to discourage self-harm.  Sterile and bland.

I fucking hate it here. It reminds me of the hospital I died in.

"It's nice," I tell Thorne, my voice shaky as nerves betray me.

"Better than a coffin, I suppose. You can be assured that Lorcan won't be sleeping comfortably tonight."

I wasn't expecting to see him back so soon, especially not in this deranged state. He looks like he belongs in a neigboring room.

Thorne stops pacing. His shadow looms over me, cold and unyielding. I feel close to death. Just like I did when I passed away in the hospital.

"I'm going to verify your claims. I will entertain your delusions and search for this mysterious hospital of yours."

I sigh in relief, and my shoulders relax. "Good. This is good. You'll see that I'm telling the truth if you just ask them about Luna Millie. They'll recognize her as one of their nurses. And they'll know about me."

He doesn't look convinced. "It will take a while to do this. You understand this, right? I will have to pull many strings to communicate with Europe."

I nod. This is no surprise. Humans and werewolves hardly have any relationship. Other than the trade between the two continents, the races don't mix, not after our bloody past.

"I have all the time in the world to prove my sanity," I say, looking him in the eyes. Hoping that I look calm and not fidgety. "And I'm truly sorry about everything, Thorne. I tried to do the right thing by not keeping secrets. I didn't want to be like…her."

"Alpha," he says.

"What?"

"You are to call me Alpha, not Thorne. You have lost that privilege, Maeve."

"I'm not Maeve!" I cry out.

He raises his chin. Looking utterly devastating with his bare, bloody chest. Like honey dripping from a porceline statue.

"Says who?" he asks, his voice booming.

No one. There is no one here to vouch for my story. If only the moon goddess would strike down right now to prove to the world that I'm not crazy.

"I'll bring paper and a pen for you to write down the information about the hospital. And then I'll be gone. I won't see you for weeks if that's how long it takes to hear back from Europe. For your sake, I truly hope you're not playing games."

"Get the pen," I rasp, my chest constricting with emotion.

Weeks? He's going to keep me locked in here for weeks and not look back? It's as if the moments we spent by the lake mean nothing. The friendship that was becoming more seems to be a figment of his imagination. After our intense connection, how could he turn to stone so quickly? Maybe he's the broken one. The crazy one.

He leaves the room, closing the door behind him before returning with the paper.

I take the pen, hesitating when our fingers brush, and electricity flows through us. That hasn't changed.

Thorne is the first to pull away.

I press the paper against my thigh and write the hospital name and location. I write the names of administrators who would recognize me and Millie.

"Why are you writing with your left hand?" asks Thorne.

"Because I am left-handed," I say, glancing up.

He's frowning at me. "No, you're not."

"Then explain why these letters are straight," I reply as I lift the paper, revealing my neat handwriting.

He stares at the paper. Almost glaring at it. I'm surprised a hole isn't burned through it.

He snatches the paper from me. "If you can find a way to fuck half the pack and hide it from me, then I'm sure pretending to have multiple personalities is a walk in the park for you."

"You'll regret this when the truth comes out," I mutter, knowing that he heard me.

"Alpha!" a voice interjects from the hall.

Thorne pulls the door open, the veins in his arms stark as his body prepares for a shift.

"What?" he demands.

A nurse pants. "There's–there's a fire!"

"Another one?" he snarls before taking off.

Two fires mere days apart. What the fuck is going on? At this point, this can't be a coincidence. I heard that after the previous fire, children and teenagers were prohibited from the woods as an investigation was carried out.

Clearly, this isn't child's play.

The door is shut as I'm locked back in my cell, and all I can hear is commotion in the hall. I look around, but there are no windows in here for me to look through. No glass for me to weaponize.

"Fuck," I mutter.

I can't last weeks here. I feel that it will only take a few days before I truly become insane.

But who will come to my rescue? No one. Because Thorne is the Alpha. Untouchable. He killed his Beta and is still roaming freely. Because no one would dare to stand up to him.

– • –

The next two days in my cell are hell. At least I was granted a book. I struggle with some of the words, but I enjoy it because it's my only distraction.

My only interaction with people is when nurses come in to bring my meals. The psychologist comes periodically to see if I'm willing to speak about my "confusions," but I never open up to him because I'm not crazy. He's only willing to accept one answer–one which I will never give.

On day three, I was shocked when a nurse appeared after lunch and offered me a walk. Apparently, Thorne is starting to feel guilty about keeping me locked away from fresh air.

 As a creature of the moon, freedom to roam the land is sacred to him. This is something I don't understand. My senses may have been enhanced, but I still don't feel like a werewolf. I'm not incredibly distressed to be locked away from nature and the moonlight.

But hell, I'll gladly accept his mercy.

I accepted the nurses' offer and noticed a tall man following us as we left the room. A guard, I suppose.

I step outside, inhaling deeply. The sun is bright, and the grass is fresh. The smell of burnt wood from the previous fire lingers.

The nurse leads the walk. We go around the clinic and stay by the tree line. After about half an hour, we turn around to return to the clinic. My heart sinks with every step we take toward my prison.

I wish I could just run away right now. But I know I wouldn't get far. I have yet to find out how to shift to werewolf form. My two legs won't carry me far before the brooding guard tackles me to the dirt.

And then Thorne would be so angry he would probably lock me away in a basement next.

I glance at the treeline longingly one final time. Doing a double take when I spot a figure by the trees. It was small, but it was there nonetheless.

My feet come to a stop when I don't see it there anymore. My heart spikes as I rapidly scan the trees.

There's no way I imagined that. There was definitely a person there.

"Luna?"

I snap out of my daze. "Sorry. Just thought I saw something."

"Must have been a deer."

I clear my throat. "Yeah. Must have."

READ PART 15>

A/N: It wasn't no goddamn deer!! What was it? And is Thorne being too cruel?