The Nameless Luna – Book Two: What Binds and Breaks

And just like that, the girl is gone.
I’m a nightwalker. I am a wolf. I am not just something in between but something more altogether.
It’s like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. My senses are even more heightened than before, my instincts razor-sharp. I can smell the earth and the trees of the forest on the mountains, and sense the others hesitating on the edge of the bridge. I can hear the rustling of the leaves and the distant sounds of the nightwalker’s citadel behind me. I can feel the cool breeze on my fur, the hard stone ground beneath my paws.
I look down at myself, and I’m amazed by what I see. My body has become lean and graceful, and my coat is thick and luxurious, rippling with every movement I make. My fur is pure white, glistening in the moonlight. My paws are massive, with sharp claws that could tear through anyone who might harm me. My ears are pointed, and my tail is thick and bushy.
I can feel the strength and power of my wolf form coursing through my veins. I’m faster, stronger, more agile than I’ve ever been before. It’s like nothing can hold me back anymore.
Even more intense than the physical change is this sense that this power… this spirit has been inside me all along.
All it took to let it out was accepting my vampire heritage enough to feed on my ancestor’s blood and then watching my mate and my father locked in a deadly battle that threatened to destroy them both.
Go figure.
I lunge forward, shoving Tristan off Marco as my father rolls to the side out of the way. We tumble over each other, entangled in one another. My mate locks eyes with me, and we are violet and gold. I feel it then like I never felt it before, the bond between us, our minds at long last linked. When I speak to him through my thoughts, I know he can hear me.
‘You can’t kill him, Tristan. He’s my father.’
We stagger apart only to circle each other for a moment, his gaze trained on mine. My words seem to take a moment to register, and Tristan shakes his head, a shiver running over his fur as he glances over at the Night King behind me and then back at me.
‘Your father?’ he repeats, his voice a dazed rumble that reverberates through me.
Even after he was defeated, one blow away from death, my father manages to hold himself with a degree of grace. He rises to his feet in a single, swift motion, dusting off his suit as he watches us intently to see what happens next.
‘Are you a wolf or a vampire?’ my mate asks, and I’m surprised by the genuine curiosity behind the question. Some of the anger seems to have drained out of him, replaced by astonishment and sheer confusion.
‘I-I think… I’m both.’
He stops circling me then, watching me then for a moment and drinking in the sight of this new form.
‘You’re beautiful.’
My heartbeat quickens, a hunger building within me. Wolves, I realize, have even less restraint than humans. Adrenaline mixes with desire, and I cannot tell whether he is going to tear me apart or make me whole.
Marco takes a step forward in my direction, and my mate lets out a deep, warning growl.
‘Tristan,’ I plead.
‘I don’t want to fight you,’ he replies slowly, his voice low as he returns his attention to me.
‘Then why did you declare war?’
I ask it without thinking, the question slipping out almost of its own accord, and I know from the way he winces that he can feel my hurt behind the words.
‘I know I betrayed you by leaving like that, but the nightwalkers have been good to me. They don’t-‘
‘I didn’t declare war on the vampires.’
His thought cuts through my own like a hot knife sliding through butter. His tail flicks in frustration, ears twitching. I quirk my head to the side, and this time I’m the one that’s confused.
‘But the yellow tansies…’ I reply, glancing over my shoulder at the petals crushed on the stone bridge.
‘They were meant to be a warning, not a threat. War is coming, little flower, but I am not the one who is starting it.’
I don’t understand. A red rose or tulip means love. Begonias mean beware. Yellow tansies mean war.
I thought I was an expert in deriving meaning from flowers, but perhaps I misinterpreted.
What was he trying to tell me?
Before I can ask him, my father clears his throat in that polite, awkward manner of his, buttoning up his jacket and straightening himself out.
‘I believe a truce is in order,’ he says out loud, his tone unnaturally calm and controlled, considering he was just engaged in battle against a werewolf that almost tore his throat out. ‘We all have a great deal to talk about, and I may not trust you, King of Rogues, but I trust my daughter. For her sake, you and your friends are welcome to join us in the castle. No combat, just conversation.’
Tristsan’s eyes narrow as he looks between my father and me. He doesn’t know what to believe, and neither do I anymore. I thought I was protecting the people I love. I thought I was doing the right thing, but somehow I only managed to make things worse.
No more.
‘Please, my king… Tristan… Let me make things right. I know I don’t deserve your trust, but I am asking you for it nonetheless. Give me a chance to explain everything.’
Marco sighs, sensing Tristan’s hesitation. ‘I swear on my daughter’s heart and on my honor as Night King, no harm will come to you and your friends in my court. That is, so long as you don’t try to kill me again.’
The golden-eyed wolf huffs in response as if to say ‘fair enough.’
From behind him, a familiar, high-pitched voice calls out across the distance, and I almost smile to myself on the inside.
‘Are you guys done with the fighting and intense staring?’ Lucy yells from the other side of the bridge. The Rovers’ inner circle has been watching from the sidelines, waiting for orders from their leader. But it seems they are tired of waiting. ‘Nico is getting cold, and I have questions!’
Mark gives his sister an angry shove to silence her, and even from this far away, I can hear Nico chuckling. I look back at Tristan and feel myself relax as his expression softens.
The worst is over.
Now, we talk. Now, I tell him the whole truth. Now, he gets to decide what comes next for us.
No more holding back.