The Nameless Luna – Book One: The Girl With Violet Eyes

Tristan’s brows knit together in concern as I pull away from him, clawing at my chest. My breathing is ragged as the pain subsides, but I don’t understand what just happened, and I have no idea how to explain it.
‘I’m sorry,’ I pant, still shaking. ‘I didn’t- you didn’t- I don’t know what—’
I look back at Tristan, worried I’ve pushed him away once too many times, but I find that his eyes are wide and fixed on my chest. I glance down and gasp in surprise at the crescent moon shaped birthmark under my collarbone, which seems to be radiating a faint silvery light.
As Tristan moves away to look at me, surveying me for any sign of injury, the glowing dies out, and the pain flickers down to a distant ache. ‘What is that?’ he asks, his voice gruff.
I shake my head, my body still reeling from the strange and agonizing spasm. ‘I don’t know. I mean, I don’t understand. It’s just a birthmark. I’ve never seen it shine like that before. At least, I’ve never noticed it. But this feeling… it’s happened before.’
First, when I woke from my nightmare to find Tristan in my bed and he brushed his lips against mine as he comforted me.
Again when I’d gone to his room, and he’d asked me what I wanted and kissed my neck.
And now…
Tristan leans forward again, his gaze set intently on the mark on my chest, but it neither glows nor stings anymore. All that’s left is the lingering soreness that makes my chest feel heavy and spreads across my entire body, leaving me dizzy and winded.
‘What do you feel?’ Tristan asks, his expression different. The hunger and tenderness are gone, replaced instead by a controlled sort of concern. He is every bit the Alpha, examining his mate with a protective and practical stare.
‘I don’t actually feel it anymore. It’s hard to describe, but it just… hurts.’
Something like guilt or grief flickers through his gaze at the word, and I look away, not wanting him to see the truth written in my eyes.
It’s him.
Whatever it is, whatever the mark is doing to me… I think it’s triggered by Tristan.
It’s not just when we’re close. We’ve been in close proximity for some time now, with no notable reaction. It seems like the mark only hurts me when we experience a different kind of closeness… when we try to be intimate.
I bite my lower lip, struggling to wrap my head around the idea.
Maybe I’m wrong. Maybe it’s only a coincidence that the pain flooded me while I was with him. After all, why would kissing my mate cause me such agony? How could my body reject the presence of the one person I want most?
‘You said this has happened before,’ Tristan says, and I can’t bring myself to look at him. ‘When did it first start? Did your mark ever hurt you when you were with the Bane pack?’
‘No,’ I mumble, wrapping my arms around myself, feeling suddenly uncomfortable in my own skin. ‘It started after I came here. But I don’t understand. I’ve had this mark my entire life, but it never glowed. It never… hurt me like that before. Does it have something to do with leaving my old pack?’
I watch him over my shoulder as he rises to his feet, scratching the stubble on his chin.
‘I don’t know,’ he says with some effort, and I get the sense that he’s frustrated with his own uncertainty. ‘But I’m going to find out.’
‘How?’
He takes a long, steadying breath, his expression distant. Finally, he starts walking toward the bathroom door and says, ‘Finish your bath, little flower. You should rest for the night. Tomorrow, we’ll go and speak with Sophie. She’s a pack Elder and a powerful shaman. If anyone knows what is happening to you, it’ll be her.’
Sophie. The Seer who first foresaw that I would be Tristan’s fated mate. I’ve heard her name a few times regarding her visions of the pack and of me, but I have yet to meet her, and I didn’t see her when I went to the Rovers’ village with Lucy and Amara.
It was her prophecy that first led Tristan to me. Could she be the one who now holds all the answers?
Tristan has seen my scars. He knows Viktor Massen is my uncle, and my mother was a madwoman who never mated. He knows I have no name, no father, no wolf… but what if there’s more?
What if this mark on my chest is a sign that there are still parts of myself that I have not shared with him because I have not yet discovered them myself? I never thought much about it, but then again, I’m starting to realize that there is much I don’t know about myself. I’d never wanted something for myself. I’d never allowed myself to long for someone or dream of a home where I might belong. I’ve never had a person look at me and see more than the cracks and flaws.
‘I’ll be right outside if you need anything, and I’ll send for Lucy to help you get ready for bed,’ Tristan says, and though he lingers for a moment longer than he should by the doorway, he eventually slips out of the bathroom. He closes the door behind him, leaving me alone with the thoughts that swirl around me like the steam that still hangs in the air.
Since my arrival in the Rovers’ territory, I’ve learned about the pack’s history. I’ve gotten to know the members of the Rouge Alpha’s inner council and even considered some of them my friends. I have a room of my own, three meals a day, nice clothes, and a beautiful garden to work on. I’ve even acquired a kind and lovely nickname.
There are so many things in my life that I’d never had before, things I’d never dared dream of for myself. For the first time ever, I’m safe and cared for, and I’m starting to find out who I am outside of the Banes’ abuse. For the first time ever, I am not a slave, a burden, or an inconvenience, and I’m becoming someone who is more than the cruelty they have endured.
But what if all this change isn’t just about my future? What if, to move forward, I’ll first have to look back?
Lucy and Nicco revealed the tragic truth behind the Rovers and the Exiled King. Perhaps this shaman, Sophie, can shed some light on my own history.
Maybe it’s time to take a closer look.
But between my father’s disappearance, my mother’s death, my mutant violet eyes, and the painful mark over my heart… I fear that if I take a closer look into myself and into my past, I might not like what I find.