The Nameless Luna – Book One: Chapter 23

Tristan
When the girl does not show up at dinner, Lucy and Nico exchange a strange glance. I’m not sure what they’ve been told, but from the way they shift uncomfortably in their seats, I know it isn’t good.
I’ll deal with them later.
“Perhaps you should bring her a tray of food,” Amara says suddenly, and she doesn’t have to explain.
After dinner, I decide to follow Amara’s advice, if only to make sure that the girl is okay. We had a tense encounter the night before, and the last thing I need is Nico and Lucy filling her head with more trouble.
But there’s no answer when I knock on the door of the girl’s bedroom with a plate full of food in hand. She left the door unlocked, and it swings open when I test the handle.
Even though the doors to the terrace are open, allowing the night breeze to sweep through the room, the space is filled with her scent.
No sign of her.
My wolf stirs, and something gnaws at my insides at her absence.
Lucy said after brunch, the girl spent the day in the garden, and I assumed she skipped dinner to avoid any conflict. But if she’s not in her room… where can she have gone?
And why does my stomach twist itself into a knot when I can’t find her?
I set the plate of food down on the nightstand next to her bed before storming out of the room.
“Girl?” I ask, wishing she had a name I could call out.
It’s not just that. She deserves a name. She deserves a sense of identity that’s uniquely hers and the fact that Viktor and the Banes denied her that makes me see red.
I loosen my grip on my wolf as I make my way through the halls of the villa. Instinct takes over as I track her scent towards the back exit, muscles tensing as I realize she’s left the house. My brow furrows when I follow her trail down to the grey-cobbled path that leads toward the lake.
Why did she come out here?
The villa is on the outskirts of the Rover’s village, and while every member of our pack has orders to treat my mate with respect and care, that does not mean it’s safe for her to wander about on her own in the night.
She does not know these lands, and if you get far enough from downtown, the lack of light becomes all-consuming. The only sources of illumination are the stars and the silvery moonlight shimmering on the surface of the lake, but once you wander past the edge of the path, the terrain becomes uneven and treacherous in the darkness of the night.
And, of course, that’s exactly where her scent leads me.
My concern and frustration sharpen into outright fear when I realize her trail fades under the black surface of the lake. Every reflected glimmer of moonlight looks like it could be her golden blonde hair billowing in the water. Every small ripple makes my pulse quicken as I try not to picture her small figure sinking through the cold.
What the hell was she thinking?
If she wanted to go swimming, she might have waited until it wasn’t the middle of a freezing night. Or, if she truly wished it, she could have easily asked anyone in the villa to accompany her to make sure she didn’t lose her way in the dark.
I have to find her. Each passing second presses on my mind like a physical weight, my gaze scanning every little movement, ears listening for any trace of her among the sounds of nature surrounding the lake.
I’ve lost her scent, and my wolf gnaws at my very soul, asking—no, demanding—that I find her.
Find my mate. Make sure she’s safe. That’s all that matters.
I can’t help but think of those doe eyes, wide with timid curiosity, the violet shade of her iris like the vibrant petals of a purple flower. At the slightest notion of not seeing them again, something inside of me snaps, and I lose any kind of hold over the spirit that lives within me.
Find her.
“Flower! Where are you?” I shout, not caring about the way my voice catches with concern.
She’s too warm for this cold night, too small for this massive lake, too soft for the hard things that might lurk in the dark.
I’ll organize a search party. Nico is our best scout, and I can have Mark gather a few of the nearest wolves to search the perimeter of the villa. I don’t care if I have to wake everyone in the pack, and I don’t give a damn if she was trying to run away.
I just need to know she’s safe. I just need to make sure she didn’t disappear the way her trail did. It’s all I can think about. It’s like my worry is so large it’s taken up all the space in my mind and body, leaving no room for any other emotion or thought.
“Girl, where are you?!” I try again, and somewhere ahead of me, there’s a soft splashing sound. I run toward it, my hunter’s intuition guiding my movements as I rush toward the edge of the water on pure intuition.
I can smell her.
There’s a startled yelp, and then my eyes find her right as her body goes limp. She collapses against a large stone by the edge of the water, and I hurtle toward her.
“Flower.” The word leaves my lips without me even thinking it.
I reach her and crouch by her side, something tightening in my chest. She’s completely soaked and wearing nothing but an equally drenched pair of panties and bra.
But she’s breathing.
I scoop her into my arms with little effort, her slender form folding into my frantic embrace as I rise to my feet and hurry back towards the little path. She’s so small and cold, and she twitches slightly as I carry her toward the villa.
The slight movement is enough to make me gasp in relief, and I all but run back to the villa.
I take her back to my room instead of hers, my feet moving on autopilot. She moans softly as I lay her down on my bed, my fingers sliding away a slick strand of hair that clung to her face and tucking it behind her ear.
Her pulse is faint, but it’s steady, and she’s breathing evenly.
I’m about to turn and head out of the room to send for the healer when my eyes land on a scar, and I go rigid.
Now that we’re back in the light of the villa, I can see her clearly. Droplets of water trickle along her alabaster skin, and I realize I’ve never seen this much of her. There’s a large bruise on her abdomen below her ribs that’s fading. It looks about a month old, but if it’s still so violent and visible after healing, I can only imagine how bad it looked when she got it.
That’s not the worst of it.
There’s a patch of burned skin on her forearm where it looks like someone extinguished a cigar against her bare flesh. There are scars along her shoulders and claw marks on her legs, and I have to look away as I feel myself shatter at the sight of what she’s suffered.
I gathered that her uncle and the others in her old pack were unkind to her, but I never imagined… this.
My hands clench into fists, and I have to remind myself to breathe as the wolf within me howls, hungry for blood. I want to slice the Banes into pieces and burn the remains to the ground. One life for every cut on her skin would not be enough.
The marks were scattered all over her body in places that were easily concealed, as well as parts of her that she should never have to cover.
I take a long, slow breath and walk back to the bed, folding the covers across her to cover her as a single thought slips through among my thirst for revenge:
When my mate bares herself for me to see, it should be her choice.
She’s already been refused the dignity and mercy that she deserves by her own people.
As I drape the blanket up to her neck, she stirs with a little sigh. My heart quickens, and my hands go still as her lashes flutter and her eyes open to meet mine.
“Hi.”