Page 60 of Alpha's Revenge Luna

I lay here, the scent of rain-soaked earth wafting in through the open windows, mingled with Dion’s distinctive aroma.

“Dion,” I whisper, his name a question and a statement all at once.

He turns to me, his deep red eyes meeting mine, and I am lost in their intensity.

His face is etched with worry and exhaustion.

Elara is quietly angry with me. She doesn’t understand how I can let him back; she believes he killed my parents in cold blood, but after everything, I have my doubts.

I am now doubting my entire life, my existence.

Knowing what I know now, I know Dion doesn’t do things for no reason.

Even if his reason is sometimes wrong, there always is one.

“I’m here,” he says, his voice a low rumble that soothes my frayed nerves.

I reach for his hand, but he rolls, pushing between my legs.

He pushes my hair back from my face. I let out a shaky breath, only for his lips to mold around mine gently.

His kiss is all consuming, stealing what little air is in my lungs but I would happily suffocate for this man right now.

He rolls back onto his side, pulling me on top of him.

I rest my head on his chest, his fingertips lazily moving across my ribs as he draws patterns with his fingers, his touch relaxing me further.

As the rain continues to fall outside, we lay there in silence, listening to the steady rhythm of each other’s breathing.

“How are you feeling?” he asks, his voice laced with a concern that seems almost out-of-place coming from him, but I feel the bond, like an explosion, the walls separating me from this man, from the bond, having been blasted apart, and I am flooded with the bond. Awakened by it.

“Emery?” he murmurs softly when I don’t answer straight away.

“Exhausted,” I admit, my voice barely above a husky murmur. My gaze locks with his, searching for something, anything, that might betray what’s going on in that complex mind of his as I rest my chin on my hand.

“Rest,” he suggests softly, brushing a stray lock of hair from my face.

The gesture is so gentle, so unlike the Dion I’ve come to know, that it takes me aback, yet warms me all the same.

He can go from hot to cold like a switch flicked.

I worry I will get used to this side of him yet yearn for it all the same.

There’s something about his presence that makes me feel safe and protected .

Even though I know he is a Hybrid who could hurt me without effort, I know he doesn’t want to.

“Thank you,” I whisper back, my throat tight with unspoken emotions.

He hesitates before sitting up and leaning against the headboard with me in his lap.

His presence is like a magnetic force, pulling me in despite my best efforts to maintain some emotional distance.

“Your body has gone through a lot,” he says, and his fingers tracing circles on my hips sending tingles down my spine.

I swallow hard, my mind racing with questions. “Will this happen every time I merge with Elara?”

“Perhaps,” he replies, but there’s something guarded in his voice that makes me wonder what he’s not telling me. “But we’ll find a way to make it easier for you. I promise.”

“I had a similar issue with Deacon, but not because he didn’t want to give me control back, but because I am a Hybrid, so I can’t fully merge with him.

Either way, shifting hurts one of us. We are both things, vampire and wolf, so sometimes my bloodlust becomes his; he can become a killing machine if I let him and I can become a savage beast. You’ll get used to it, and one day Elara will realize I am no threat to her or you. ”

“How long did it take you to shift back?”

“Not long, but...”

“But what?” I ask him, watching him carefully.

“When I took the pack over, sometimes my bloodlust would get the better of me. We could be stuck in Deacon’s form for days. It’s why my pack started giving me their blood,” he admits.

It makes me see him in a different light, understanding perhaps a fraction of what has shaped him into the man he is today.

“But let’s not dwell on the past,” he suggests, and I can see the effort it takes for him to keep his emotions in check. It makes me wonder how many he killed in that state because whatever memory came to mind then I could see hurt him. “Focus on healing, Emery. I won’t let anything hurt you.”

I let the questions I have drop, knowing they can wait.

As I close my eyes, I let myself be lulled by the sound of his breathing, the warmth of his body next to mine.

It’s the first time in a long while I feel safe enough to let my guard down completely, even if it’s just for a little while.

And as I drift off to sleep, a part of me wonders if there might be hope for us after all.