Filed To Story: The Perfect Luna by Marissa Gilbert
If he felt the injection, he didn’t flinch, but his hand wrapped around her throat as he looked into her eyes with that same kind of desire and longing as the whole time she had been here.
“That snake tattoo doesn’t suit you!” he groaned and then pushed her back to the bed, towering over her.
“I don’t like your tattoos either!” Astrea narrowed her eyes at him vengefully. She didn’t like the serpent on her skin one bit, but she also wasn’t in a habit of letting men criticise her for any reason.
“Liar,” Fenrir chuckled and blinked, lowering his face to kiss her again.
She wanted to push him away as the game stopped being funny, but to her own disbelief, the drug finally kicked in, and the next second she found Fenrir’s whole body falling on top of hers, pinning her to his bed while he knocked outon top of her.
“Fenrir?” She called him simply to ensure that the drug worked. “Fenrir, are you okay?”
Not a sound.
The King of Rogues was so heavy that for a few minutes, she was simply wriggling under him helplessly.
He was so warm and smelled so nice that she almost regretted stopping what was happening between them.
Nevertheless, her task was clear, and this couldn’t be happening. She had to leave, and she had to make it look like she had never been here.
Grasping one of the bedposts, she used all her body strength to get herself out, pushing him with her foot to turn him on his back.
Carefully, she examined him, coming to the conclusion that the drug worked just the way it was supposed to.
Next, she had to erase all of her traces here, starting from the king himself. Although she tried to control her scent, it was still all over him because of how close they were just a few seconds ago.
Astrea pulled her slip back up and looked around, her eyes landing on a cabinet filled with alcohol.
“Bingo!” She smiled to herself and tooktwo bottles and a t-shirt she found hanging on one of the chairs. She opened the bottles and started spraying alcohol around, knowing that it would overpower any weak trace of her scent she left behind. Then she poured some on the t-shirt and returned to the king.
Swiftly and trying not to look too much, she wiped his torse with the whiskey-soaked cloth, pausing only for a second when she reached a scar right where his heart was. His wounds were strange!
She heard some noises outside and decided to hurry, spraying the rest of the bottle over the bed and then placing it in Fenrir’s hand.
When he would wake up, he would be sure that he simply got drunk, and if he remembered anything about her, he would think it was a dream.
“Menace,” he muttered, and she got worried that the drug wasn’t strong enough for him. She had to get out of herefast.
“It’s just a dream, Fenrir,” she whispered into her ear. “A dream.”
He did not respond, and she exhaled in relief.
Last but not least, she returned to the fireplace and threw the t-shirt into it, ensuring it all got up in flames. She checked that the hairpin was in place and then tried the window she used to get into the room again. To her surprise, this time, the shutters opened easily, and she was back onto the roof in no time, praying that she didn’t leave anything behind that could give her away in Fenrir’s bedroom.
She didn’t stay in her room for long either, gathering shower supplies and taking the trip to the showers. After all, the middle of the night was probably the best time here.
She cleaned herself thoroughly, getting rid of the rogue’s scent on her skin. Then she washed her silk slip for the same reason, and only then was she able to return and finally get the well-deserved rest. Evidence-free.
***
In the morning, Astrea woke up from the buzzing of her phone. The caller ID made her swallow hard, and she replied at once because she knew better than to let her Teacher wait.
“Dragonfly,” the Serpent greeted her, his voice colder than usual which was a bad sign on its own.
“Teacher,” she muttered, wiping her eyes.
“No,” he replied, stretching the word as if it was a game. “Try again.”
“Joran.” She remembered their new agreement and got out of bed, looking for a robe to throw on top of her nightgown. She passed the mirror on her way to one of the luggage bags and froze when she saw her reflection in it.
“F*ck!” Astrea swore loudly, forgetting that she was still on the line…7. Love Bites
This couldn’t be happening.
Panic rushed through Astrea’s bloodstream. Her neck had a mark on it, and it wasn’t the one that every shifter girl dreamed of.
It was a problem.
A big freaking problem for her.
Because she had a big, bright hickey where a mate’s mark should go. Bright red, almost raspberry in colour.
“What is it, Astrea?” Joran sounded impatient and she received a cold shower of reality, realising he was still on the line.
Tell him you are on your period, Nova suggested “helpfully”, and Astrea was really close to blocking her wolf for a day or two. Nova knew what she was thinking, of course. It has always worked in the past and you know it! She added.
Bye, Nova! Astrea closed the mind link as she didn’t have the mental capacity to deal with it all now and needed to be concentrating on the man who still had power over her.
“It’s–”She didn’t know what to say to her Teacher. For some reason, the truth seemed like a bad idea. “Sorry, it’s nothing. This place is just a hell hole in general. Cockroaches are watermelon-sized here.”
“You don’t like the East anymore?” Joran asked with a voice void of emotions, but she knew he had to be gloating inside. He sent her here on purpose. Probably to prove to her that this wasn’t the place for her. Little did he know this was never the final destination.
“There is nothing to like!” she said, grateful that this wasn’t a video call. “It’s a desert. We live in some ancient building. Everything is old here, and even showering is an ordeal in the East.”
“Did you take a shower there, then?” the Serpent questioned, and she did not like where this was going.
“At night,” she told the truth. “When no one was around.”
“Are you sure about that?”
Joran’s question startled her.
“Yeah, why?” she scratched the damn hickey again and noticed the snake tattoo moving on her neck.
Swearing under her breath, she rushed to the bags.
“Astrea, I want to make sure you are fine. Switch to video,” Joran suddenly suggested, but luckily, she was ready.
She wasn’t stupid. She realised quickly that he knew at least partially what had happened yesterday, so she threw a hoodie on to cover the evidence and only then switched the camera on, showing her Teacher an indifferent face.
“You look tired,” Joran stated after observing her for a few seconds.
“Well, it’s not exactly a vacation. Is it?”
“It is not,” he agreed, and silence reigned once again. “Take off the hoodie.”
The order was unexpected, and the Teacher had never asked anything like this from her before, so Astrea’s lips parted in shock.
“Why?” she demanded, brows furrowed.
“Do you need a reason to obey an order? You are still my Dragonfly,” Joran insisted. “Are you not?”
“I am,” she sighed and placed the phone on the desk, using her makeup box to prop it up. She ensured he could see her and slowly pulled the hoodie off, angling her body for the camera to hide the mark on her.
“Closer,” he commanded, and she took two steps forward.
Joran was silent, and she didn’t like it. Astrea wanted to be done with this.
“Slowly turn for me,” he said, and she sucked in a sharp breath.
“What are you searching for?” She decided to ask him bluntly and not beat around the bush.
“Hidden wounds. Yesterday I felt that someone was hurting you, and I am afraid that you would hide it from me if this was the case,” Joran admitted coldly, and she couldn’t hold back a chuckle.
New Book: Veiled Desires of the Alpha King Novel
Dayson was the alpha of the largest pack in North America. Powerful figures from other packs sought to offer gorgeous girls as potential mates for Dayson. He steadfastly rejected these advances, he was not a pawn to be manipulated. But eventually there came a mysterious girl he could hardly say No. Who was she?