Swapped Luna part 9

Previously…

“Th-thank you,” I tell the stranger, rattled by my mistake.

I’ve never seen him before. He’s tall, and his large hand wraps around my wrist as he carefully holds it.

“Is there a problem here?” Comes another, deeper, male voice. One that I recognize. It’s Thorne.

Fuck. Why did he have to find me in this situation?

I suddenly become aware of how close this unknown man and I are standing. How carefully he cradles hand.

I look at Thorne guiltily, although I’ve done nothing wrong.

He’s furious. He’s seething as he asks, “Back at it again, Maeve?”

PRESENTLY…

VICTORIA

I take a wide step away from the strange man that came to my rescue. I cradle my hand close to my chest and stare at Thorne with wide eyes.

It isn't what this looks like sits on the tip of my tongue, but it's too cliche for me to say it. I might as well admit that I'm guilty about flirting with this man.

Instead, try to make the situation clear by speaking with the male.

I turn to him and say, "Thank you. I'm a klutz, always burning myself."

Thorne growls. "You will address me first, female. You wont put him before me."

"Please excuse me," says the other male, lowering his head. He senses the electric fury in the air and probably regrets his act of kindness.

"Get the fuck out of my sight," snarls Throne with so much venom that I almost follow the unnamed male out of the kitchen and run to Europe.

"Thorne… I'm sorry you're upset, but I wasn't up to anything."

He extends his hand, pointing toward the exit which the male just ran out of. 

"Why is it that every time I turn my back on you, you're snuggling up to random males!"

I've never seen him this angry. His eyes are darker, and his jaw is locked tight. For the first time ever, I genuinely fear for my safety. The veins in his arms are stark, like he's ready to grab and hurt me.

"I—I didn't call for him! I got burned, and he came out of nowhere to help me. Please, you have to believe me. I was baking for you and—"

"Quit it with the fucking baking, Maeve. No amount of dessert will make you sweet. You're a sour woman."

With that, the turns and storms out of the kitchen, leaving me behind with my hand cradled against my chest.

I feel horrible. Out of all the long days I've had since I was reincarnated in Maeve's body, this is the hardest one.

Even when he called me a whore by the river didn't hurt as much as being called sour in his infuriated voice.

I lay against the counter and sniffled, cursing myself for getting so emotional. But what am I to do? It feels like all my progress with Thorne has caught fire. I take one step forward and two backward.

I only want to befriend this man, but he thinks I'm a snake.

I stare at my red, burned hand, utterly dejected. I was so excited about baking. But now I just feel stupid.

With a groan, I begin cleaning up the kitchen and setting the goods in baskets for the servants to enjoy.

I hesitate to save some for Thorne. He might just spit on the food, and that will certainly make my cry.

It takes me two hours to finish in the kitchen, my steps slow and lethargic. A servant stopped by and ordered to help me, but I sent her off to distribute the pastries for everyone. 

She was more willing to accept them than last time. It seems like the servants are warming up to me, unlike Thorne.

Looking out the window, I'm captivated by a group of werewolves running in their wolf form outside. They're giant beings. The downfall of humanity, but majestic nonetheless. I wonder if they're a family. Two loving mates running with loved ones.

I'm crazy for wanting that. I'm not a werewolf. I don't belong here, and it's getting harder every day to accept that.

I spend the day worrying about how to get back on Throne's good graces and planning how to avoid meeting the woman who wrote to me.

I head for the river with a small basket when the evening comes. I feel ridiculous because I know Thorne will not come. He's done with me and these little dates.

I look around for Fang, but it seems he, too, has abandoned me.

The lake looks fuller today. I'm almost tempted to dive in and go for a swim.

I sit on the ground with a notebook and a pen on my lap, thinking of what letter I can write to excuse myself from this upcoming tea party and avoid meeting Maeve's friends.

I end up simply scribbling in the notebook. I sketch Millie's face, unable to stop thinking of her situation.

How could she be a Luna if she was a nurse? A nurse in Europe. There are no werewolves on that continent.

Maybe, just maybe… she's in a worse situation than I am, with a much more complicated story, and I need to stop fucking complaining about mine.

I glance at the sunset, admiring its beauty, and I suddenly don't feel as lonely.

The moon will rise soon, although I feel no spiritual connection to it during nights. I can't help but wonder if the moon goddess is real and if she's watching me.

"I knew you would be here."

I shudder upon hearing Thorne's deep voice. I drop the notebook and rush to my feet as he approaches, preparing for the blow of his next insults.

"You came," I exhale. "I thought you were angry. I didn't…" I trail off, distracted by him.

He crosses his arms over his bare chest, his shorts hanging low on his hips, and his hair tousled like he just came from a run.

He knows I can't function properly when he's shirtless, so he's probably here to torture me some more. As if what happened earlier today wasn't enough.

"I came to apologize," he grumbles, staring at the lake.

"What?" I blurt, not believing my ears.

"I don't trust you because of your past with men, Maeve."

I cringe, embarrassed that he thinks I've disgraced myself when in reality, it was another woman. I've started to care about what he thinks of me. I'm putting so much effort into proving myself.

"But it was clear that you were hurt, and that idiot came to your rescue. I shouldn't have gotten…" his jaw clenches.

I shouldn't have gotten jealous.

He frowns. "Why are you grinning, you odd woman?"

Because he got jealous! It wasn't just anger over the past. He cared!

"Because you've redeemed yourself and are now worthy of my pastries." I reach for the basket on top of my notebook. "I accept your apology, your royal canine highness. Come eat."

He sighs and reaches for me. At first, I think he's aiming for the basket. But I'm surprised when he takes my wrist and pulls my hand close to examine it.

"Has the burn healed?"

"Y—yes. I'm a werewolf, remember?"

Smooth, Victoria.

He raises an eyebrow. "Funny you say that. It seems like you've been the one forgetting your identity lately."

The last thing I want to do is talk about how I've been the worst werewolf of all time lately. Once Thorne realizes I haven't shifted to my wolf form in weeks, he will ask questions.

I reach into the basket and retrieve a pastry. I lift it and say, "Open up."

He sighs, knowing he can't resist my baking, no matter how tough he is.

"I will eat this only to amuse you."

He opens his mouth and takes a bite, his eyes instantly fluttering shut as he chews. "Goddamn it," he growls as he takes it from me and devours it.

I chuckle and sit down, patting the seat beside me.

"Down, boy."

"Maeve," he says warningly. "You cannot talk to an Alpha that way. It's disrespectful."

"But we're mates. Doesn't that give me a pass to joke around with you?"

He sighs. "Just keep the banter between us. You cannot play games in front of other pack members. I don't want them to get the impression that you're challenging me."

"Yessir."

He sits beside me, his legs bent at the knees as he digs his giant hand through the delicate basket and takes another pastry. He's not shy with his bites, tearing through the food until only crumbs remain.

I chuckle at him. He's giant and terrifying when he wants to be. Effortlessly deadly with his glaring eyes and prominent muscles. But there's a softness to him–probably one that only I can see. Everyone else just sees a death machine.

I wipe a crumb off his cheek, the tip of my tongue stroking his lip. Thorne freezes–a rare reaction from this male who is never taken off guard.

I guess touching his face is forbidden, too. Another rule when in the presence of the golden Alpha.

I drop my hand and open my lips to apologize. But all I manage is a gasp when he yanks me forward and kisses me. Our lips meet, and my heart staggers in my chest.

I thought I'd die before I got my first kiss. But here I am, in the arms of an Alpha werewolf who tastes like the pastries I lovingly baked for him.

The kiss is innocent, just a longing peck. But the heat of his lips warns of the things he's capable of. Passion and dominance. Rough, blinding twists of tongues that would bind our desire forever.

He pecks me again and slowly pulls away, looking into my wide eyes.

"I don't know what it fucking is, but there's something about you, Maeve," he says with a smoky voice.

I shut my trembling lips. Overwhelmed with emotion. My entire body is hot with a hunger I've never faced before. It makes my legs tremble, and I would have likely toppled into the lake if I were standing.

My heart is pumping with thrill, but my mind tells me to run. I have every intention of returning to Europe. Falling in love isn't an option.

"Something about me?" I whisper, allured by this unpredictable man.

I should put an end to and go home. But instead, I instigate the danger. I want the warmth his lips offer. I want to burn again.

"Something changed about you, and I'm beginning to feel…more."

I'm beginning to feel more than hate.

"I…"

Stunned, I simply stare at him. There's a sense of magic in the air. The last time I felt this way was when I passed away in the hospital and felt peace before awakening in this new body.

I instinctively squeeze Thorne's hand, afraid that I'm going to be yanked away from him and awake in another stranger's body.

Thorne squeezes my hand, and I've never felt more secure in my life.

"Alpha!" comes a shout from a distance.

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.

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