Swapped Luna part 5

VICTORIA

I follow the tall, terrifying werewolf king. Or maybe he’s a god. A demigod? One of the three is right.

My bucket clatters loudly as I carry it. The Alpha king left his bucket and mop, but I brought mine as a testament to my stubbornness.

I will not let this man bully me. I’ve got enough shit going on with this mind-fucking reincarnation situation. I don’t know why he has a problem with me, but I won’t give up. He will stop his cruelty and give me a chance. I need a loan or a job. Anything to get me the money I need to return to Europe.

Everything else doesn’t matter. Including the fact that apparently, a “Luna,” is a high-ranking member of a werewolf pack. And I’m the fucking Luna.

It should have been obvious from the beginning that I’m some sort of big fish. All the servants jump out of my way like I’m a great white shark about to bite a chunk out of them. They are terrified of me and my power.

Meanwhile, I freak out whenever they come to aid me. I nearly fell on my ass when my handmaiden bent down to slide slippers onto my feet. I’ve always hated being waited on, especially when I was deteriorating from cancer. I refused to let the nurses sponge bathe me or change my hospital gown. I would muster all my energy to take care of my hygiene. And none of that is changing now.

I don’t care if this body used to belong to a queen. I’m still a peasant that died alone and broke in a hospital, and I’m proud of that, because I survived longer than the next person would. Only with my will.

I glance at the king. At the “Alpha.” I wonder if he’s used to being served. If he has servants brush his werewolf fur and trim his gigantic claws. I'm not sure what to make of him. His beard is stubbly and his arms sleeved with stark, elaborate tattoos. His shorts hang low on his hips and his feet barefoot.

I squint to see if his feet are manicured, but they don’t look like anything special. Just regular, manly feet, which if are any indication, this man is hung like a horse.

“Why do you stare at my feet?”

I drop the fucking bucket. Then I scramble to pick it up as he turns to face me.

“I wasn’t.” I clear my throat. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“You seemed so desperate it would have been cruel of me not to.”

I nearly lose the bucket again by sending it flying at his handsome head.

God, I never imagined werewolves would look like this. The fairytales I read described them far more canine. But this is very much a human man. Bearing muscles I’ve never seen before because all the human men in Europe are skinny and lanky from starvation.

There’s nothing skinny on this man. Even his shoulders have muscle—I had no idea that was possible. And he’s so tall. If I tossed it, the bucket probably wouldn’t reach his head. It would bounce off his chest instead.

Stop staring.

I focus on walking. Putting one leg in front of the other, still not used to my balance and healthy weight. I feel centered. It’s disorienting after spending so many years walking on shaky, thin, sickly legs.

I smell the earthy, brisk lake. It’s still a ways away, but my senses are becoming stronger by the hour. I’m picking up more scents including the Alpha’s.

He smells like the woods; mouthwatering. I’m keenly aware that my body is somehow attuned to his. I’m attracted to him not only because of his physique, but because of something deeper. Something innate that I can’t control.

I’m beginning to fear it’s that soulmate bond I kept reading about in the fairytales.

Their moon lady must have messed up this match. Because this guy is the furthest thing from my soulmate. He hates me.

We reach the lake. It’s vast and beautiful. Impossibly clear without a speck of garbage to be found. None of the lakes in Europe look like this anymore.

My enhanced eyesight reveals fish. It’s like I’m wearing polarized glasses as I look at the water.

I lick my lips instinctively. I can’t remember the last time I had fish. Or any meat, for that matter. The hospital could only afford to feed us whatever they found in the garden or whatever was donated.

I kick my sandals off and lift my skirt. Eying a particularly juicy fish. I used to be good at hand-fishing them—back when I had the energy. When there was no cancer.

I grip the bucket tightly and swat at the water, reaching for the next unsuspecting fish. I only manage to wet my skirt with the big splash. But I’m not discouraged. I’ve still got the skill, I know it.

Soon, I’ll be roasting one of these bad boys over a fire. And maybe I’ll have the Alpha roasting with an apple in his mouth right alongside the fish.

“What are you doing?”

I straighten, looking at him in surprise.

He looks bewildered. Not knowing what to make of me.

I realize that I’ve lost myself once again. I keep acting like a silly girl, but the previous owner of this body—the Luna—seemed to have been graceful and neat. She didn’t raise her skirt and dip her feet in mud to swat at fish like a starving woman.

It's so hard playing the part. Now that I have mobility and health, I feel unstoppable. There’s an innate part of me that wants to be productive. To hunt and stock up for winter when food gets scarce.

I left behind disease and poverty when I left my body in Europe, but my mind is still hard-wired to hunt and hoard to survive.

“Sorry,” I say yet again, smiling softly at him.

“You’re acting strange,” he says as he scans my wet, wrinkled skirt. “Maybe the doctors should run more tests on you.”

“No need,” I blurt. “I’ve just been feeling…refreshed. Since I survived my fall from the balcony, I’ve been wanting to start over. There’s tension between you and I for no reason. We can flip over a new page and start anew. What do you say?”

I extend my hand, hoping he will shake it.

He crosses his arms over his chest and steps into the lake, coming closer until his chest presses against my hand and I have no choice but to drop it.

“Start anew?” He snarls. “Just a month ago you were making a fool of me. I will never forgive your betrayal. You can prance around will your bullshit innocent act all you would like, but we will never be anything. I will never embrace you. You will beg for my forgiveness until your fucking teeth rot, and I will stomp on them to pulverize them. I will always hate you.”

I don’t know why my feelings are hurt. I’ve done nothing to this man, and he is clearly talking to the previous owner of this body. Not to me.

But he looks at me with burning disgust. His arms are tightly crossed like he’s keeping from strangling me.

He has taken the olive branch I offered and slapped me across the face with it.

“I’m sorry that you’re hurting,” I whisper again. “I will never betray you again.”

“That almost sounded convincing,” he chuckles with a mean smirk. He is cruelly handsome.

His hand reaches for my face and squeezes my cheeks together, gently forcing me to pucker my lips.

“But we both know that this is good at both lying and sucking stranger’s cocks. Comes with the territory of being a whore.”

He calls me a whore?! What did this woman do to him?

“Don’t be cruel,” I say, my fingers curling as I feel myself becoming smaller.

He is intense. Mean. I’ve always been the girl that pretends to be tough so nobody pities her cancer diagnosis, but I’m soft inside. Inexperienced in the world except when it comes to loneliness.

“This is not cruelty. This is reality. I've always suspected you were with more than one man, but I care so little about you that I won't even try to find the truth. Now go home and quit the theatrics. I’ve had enough of you.” His eyes glare like he wants me to go up in flames and evaporate.

But I stand my ground. I just beat death somehow. I will not let this bully put me down.

“No. You go. You retreat first. And on your way home, think of all the mistakes you made in your life and all the apologies you never got to give. Think of all the people you’ve hurt whose forgiveness you never got. And then ask yourself what makes you so much better than me, your Alpha highness. Ask yourself if your power makes you immune to imperfection!”

His glare falters. There’s confusion first, and then hesitation.

I guess his Luna never barked back at him. Did she retreat whenever he ordered her to? Did she run when he walked her a whore to invalidate her feelings of remorse and her wishes to communicate it?

“You…you are handsome, strong, proud and respected. But you’ve got a lot to learn, your Alpha highness. Life is short and precious. Start learning today before you run out of tomorrows. Now if you will excuse me, I’m going fishing. See you at the same time tomorrow right here on this lake. And bring boxing gloves if you want to spar for a round or two because I’ve got a few punches of my own I’d like to throw at you!”

I turn around and grumble under my breath. Angry and worked up as I scan the lake for fish.

I don’t know if he still stands there or if he is walking away, his skillful footsteps too light to hear.

I don’t turn around because I don’t want to be intimidated or discouraged from trying again tomorrow.

I will befriend that angry werewolf Alpha if it’s the last thing I do.

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