His Broken Luna

I pushed the door open with my leg before making my way through, weighed down by a heavy sack on my back. I barely managed to make it into the small, dimly lit storeroom before letting the sack fall to the ground, and just as I turned to leave, I heard the door slam shut, plunging the room into darkness. “Who’s there?” I cried, hurrying towards the door. My leg struck the load on the floor, slamming my body into the floor— intense pain shot through me when my body made contact with the hard cement. I let out a sharp cry. Crawling my way through the dark, I discovered the door and began to slam my hands on it. “Please open up,” I begged whoever was out there, although I had a faint idea of their identity, and it was confirmed when I heard girlish giggles from the other side of the door. The small room soon began to feel smaller, as though the walls were closing in on me. Sweat beads formed on my head, streaming down my neck. I was severely claustrophobic, and they knew it. “Elena, come on, I can’t breathe,” I pleaded, hitting the door harder. “Well, I hope you die!” her voice replied before another fit of giggles exploded. I sank to the floor, a heavy feeling in my chest as I began to gasp, trying my best to take in as much air as I could, but nothing was working, and more tears poured down my face. A nauseous feeling enveloped me. My chest rose and fell with each unsteady breath I took. I shut my eyes, “What are you doing?” I heard a male voice bark. Seconds later, the door opened, and he walked in. “Sophia,” he called. Strong arms immediately wrapped around me and lifted me from the floor. I was led out of the room, and instantly, my breathing became better. He walked towards his own room, still carrying me in his arms, pushing the door open with his shoulder. He stepped into it and proceeded to set me on the bed gently. I sat up immediately and stared at him with my eyes wide open in fear. “Thank you,” I said, scrambling to get up from the bed. “Sit back down!” His voice came out harshly, leaving no room for defiance. It wasn’t as though I could defy if I wanted — he owned me, after all — and so, slowly, I sat back down on the bed, its soft weight enveloping me. I couldn’t remember ever sitting on anything this comfortable. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to bother you,” I apologized, bowing my head. He liked it when I apologized for even things that weren't within my control; especially things that weren't within my control. A wicked smile formed on his face as he looked at me. He was handsome, devilishly so, but equally the cruelest person to have ever existed, and he took pride in that being common knowledge among members of his pack. He stood up and walked closer to me. His hands shot out and grabbed me by the chin, forcing me to stare back into his cold blue eyes. There was an emptiness to them, nothing that showed this person felt anything human towards another. “Remember what I said, Sophia?” he asked with a brow cocked. I nodded immediately. “What did I say?” I swallowed. “Only you have the right to punish me,” I said, a tear threatening to fall down my face, but I forced it back. I wasn't going to cry, not now nor ever! It was a rule I had long ago forced upon myself, no matter the treatment he meted out to me. The day I cried in front of him was the day I finally lost to him, and trust me, he had tried to make me, but my resilience was the only thing I had, the only thing keeping me sane. Fourteen years ago, the Alpha of the Mystic Hollow Pack, my father, willingly gave me up to the Dark Wood Pack during a treaty. I was the third daughter amongst five others and obviously, the least loved because even though I was eight, I could remember the lack of hesitation in my father right before he'd chosen me as the one to go with the Dark Wood Pack as a slave. Alexander had been twelve, and it had been said that I was to serve his pack until I found my mate. If by the age of twenty-three I hadn't found him, I was to serve Alexander for the rest of my life as his Luna, but to me, it was the same as being his prisoner. I was a few months away from my twenty-third birthday. “That’s right,” he said, patting my head with his hand as though I was a loyal dog. I felt disgusted by his touch. “That’s a good girl.” I said nothing and simply stared at the floor until he walked away, settling himself on the large couch in the middle of the room. Alexander hadn't bothered with finding his mate; in his eyes, I was his already, and now he waited for the treaty condition before making it formal. The thought of it made my skin crawl—of having this man touch me, of being by his side forever. I hated him. I detested him with every breath of my existence. “May I leave now?” I asked in a polite tone, attempting to stand up. “When is your birthday again?” he asked, his eyes twinkling. My eyes instinctively went up to the calendar in the middle of his room, the one that had each day of it marked with a black marker, a countdown he’d probably been marking since I was nine. “In a few months,” I said. “Come over here,” he said, indicating for me with his fingers. I took in a deep breath to steady my fast-beating heart. He was the most unpredictable person I’d ever met. I stood up and went to him, standing in front of him. “Get down,” he commanded, his eyes alive with humor. He was enjoying this. I knelt in front of him, and he brought his face closer to mine. His warm breath fanned my face, causing my nervousness to heighten. His eyes glanced at my lips. A finger trailed from my neck down my collarbone. “A few months left now, darling,” he said, his hand moving lower. My breath hitched in my throat. “Please, don't,” I said. If there was anything I held dear, it was my dignity, and I wasn't ready to lose it to him. Even if I was eventually going to have to, I wanted it done while I was in a deeply unconscious state. His expression contorted into one of ugly rage. “You belong to me, and I shall do with you as I please!” he barked before grabbing me by the back of my head and forcing my lips against his, kissing me harshly. Sheer disgust coursed through me, and I felt a new wave of nausea hit me. I pulled away, roughly shoving him off me by his chest. “How dare you?” he demanded and swung his hand to strike me. With quick reflexes, I grabbed it midair, halting the assault, the shock on his face fueling my fury. “I do not belong to you!” I yelled, and just as I released his hand, I raised mine and brought it down across his face viciously, leaving an ugly red print on his cheek.