Swapped Luna part 10

Previously on Swapped Luna…

We turn and find Fang and the pack's Beta running toward us.

Thorne rises and stares at the approaching figures. "Go home. I'll have to see what has arisen now."

I scatter to pick up my notebook and basket. "O-okay."

We go our separate ways but still remain connected by the warmth of our kiss.

Presently…

THORNE

Someone set fire to a fucking tree. My beta says it was probably a couple of teens that gathered around it to smoke and accidentally set the fire, but I have my doubts.

My wolf is sensing danger. And although smoke and charred wood is thick around the burnt tree, there’s a faint scent that I don’t recognize. My sensitive sense of smell has never failed me.

There’s not much that can be done about the incident since there are no suspects, but I don’t like this. A fire could spread easily throughout my territory and claim land and lives.

After issuing a few orders, I head home. Licking my lips for the umpteenth fucking time as I think of my kiss with Maeve.

I still can’t believe it. But it felt right in the moment. I wanted to get close to her and feel what it would be like. I wasn’t repulsed by her, and I’m beginning to think that maybe I have it in me to forgive her infidelity in due time.

She’s certainly working hard to earn her forgiveness, acting like a completely different women. A warmer Luna that even the servants have begun to trust.

It’s like her personality has changed completely. Gone is the calculating and cunning female who pictured herself above all others, hurting and humiliating as she saw fit. Now she’s clumsy and harmless. Only a threat to herself.

It’s like the fall from the balcony has re-wired her frontal lobe. Gravity and brain trauma have rebirthed her.

I pray to the goddess that Maeve doesn’t ever return to being cold. Or I’ll lose all hope in her.

I spend hours thinking about the fire. Something about it bugs me. I set up a small team— three chemists and arborists of the pack, to examine the scene and tell me more about it.

I have a nagging feeling that it was intentionally set.

I wind down in my office, drinking a glass of scotch and throwing darts at the small board hanging from the back of a closet door.

It’s at moments like these when I become aware of how lonely I am. Besides Fang, I don’t have many friends. And even he has been ignoring me lately.

I used to be close to my beta until he settled down with his mate, and his children became the center of his life. I can’t blame him. After a while, discussing work for hours and drinking the same cup of whiskey gets boring.

I retire to bed early, taking a shower before sitting at the edge of my bed and thinking of past memories.

Memories I’ve fought to suppress, like finding Maeve being intimate with that man.

That lesser man. Unwilling and unfit to fight me for his own honor. He was beat within an inch of his life and exiled, but a fucked up part of me wishes he would return just so I’d have a reason to finish him off.

Maeve cried a lot that night. She pleaded, too. But she had disgraced herself. The pack and I lost all respect for her.

I’ve noticed how the females of this pack look at me. Not with pity, but hope. Hope I would even the score and bed one of them.

I was tempted to, but mateships are holy and I didn’t want to spit on mine. Besides, I was so fucking angry—so fueled by toxic contempt—that no female would’ve stood a chance in my bed. I would’ve fucked her well into the mattress. Pounded away like a deranged animal.

I lay in bed, my arms behind my head as I stare at the ceiling with hooded eyes and think of the past.

A knock sounds at the door. Odd, since servants know not to disturb me at this time unless it’s an emergency.

“Alpha Thorne?” comes a small voice.

What the fuck? It’s Maave.

What is she doing here? She has always known better than to step into this wing because she wouldn’t be welcomed.

Why did she wander so far from her bedroom?

I rise and walk to my door, unlocking it.

She stands there with wide eyes. An effect that doesn’t go away no matter how many times she sees me shirtless.

Her newfound shyness is another characteristic of her changed personality.

“Why are you here?”

“Sorry, but Fang is freaking me out. He won’t leave my side and I don’t know what to do with him.”

I glance at Fang who stands behind her. He’s tense. Propped in a defense stance. Like he’s protecting her and ready to attack.

I’ve never seen him so worked up, even over me. I suppose he figured that his master could take care of himself. Maeve seems prone to danger lately and in need of constant supervision.

“Fang,” I call to him.

He comes around and lowers his head.

“Woods,” I tell him. A command he usually understands. He’s supposed to run off, but all he does is lower his head and whine.

He doesn’t want to heed my command. Doesn’t want to leave Maeve.

I’m stumped. He used to distrust Maeve, now he’s attached to her hip.

“Just let Fang sleep in your bedroom then. He is harmless to us.”

“But…he keeps growling at the window. Like there’s something there.” Maeve’s wide eyes fill with worry and she clenches the hand she injured earlier in the day.

“The only people out there at this time of night are my men patrolling. You’re safe.”

Her lip trembles. My words are no comfort to her. She’s truly afraid.

Fang whines again, picking up her distress.

I sigh. I know what she needs from me, but I don’t know if it’s a good idea. I’ve never shared a room with her before. Much less a bed.

“Can I sleep outside your door?” She whispers.

“Outside? In this hall?”

“Yes. I promise I’ll be silent.” She looks at me with so much hope. As if I’ll save her from the big monsters that are coming for her.

I sigh. “Get the hell in here.”

She walks into my room, and Fang follows every step. I’ve never let the wolf sleep in my room–there has never been a need. Besides, he’s so independent he prefers the woods.

But here I am, taking both of them in. Like strays in need of affection. Something I’ve never been good at providing.

Maeve looks around the bedroom. It’s large; much too large for just me. The giant french-door windows are uncovered. I’ve never used curtains because I like to rise with the sun.

My maids take care of the linens, changing the colors with every season. The sheets are a nude color now. Even the bathroom is draped with muted, neutral colors.

The only personal touch is a picture of my parents on top of my dresser. There are no pictures of my mate. Not so much as a hair pin or a single earring to hint that she has been in here before.

“Go on,” I tell her as I walk to the windows. “Get in bed.”

I study the woodland edge. It’s dark, but there’s nothing out there. I can’t understand why Fang is growling at the window.

“Can you…” Maeve bites her lip. “Can you please put a shirt on?”

There’s that damn request again.

“Maeve,” I say sternly. “Why have you been acting like a shy virgin? You’ve always enjoyed getting eyefuls when I was shirtless.”

“I…I…” she stammers, looking like she got caught.

“What? You mean to tell me that you’ve never taken a cock before in your life?”

READ PART 11>

A/N; why is Fang being so paranoid?