The Nameless Luna – Book Two: What Binds and Breaks: Chapter 21

Heat rises within me as Tristan leans forward, tucking a strand of loose hair behind my ear before trailing his finger down my jaw and then tilting my chin to face him.
I close my eyes, holding back the torrent of emotions that threatens to drown me.
‘Little flower… look at me,’ he says, his voice gentle and commanding at the same time.
So I do. I meet his gaze, and my breath hitches at the desire burning in those amber eyes that look like molten gold in the flickering candlelight of the war room.
I reach a tentative hand around his neck, his own still gripping the chair behind me as if physically holding himself back. When I move, his own resolve wavers and his arms wrap around my waist, pulling me onto my feet so I stand pressed against him. We’re trapped between the table and the car, but neither one of us moves away.
His hands glide down the small of my back before tugging me closer, and I pull myself toward him with my fingers entwined behind the nape of his neck as we crush the air between our bodies, cursing the things that keep us apart.
He’s warmth and strength and courage and comfort, and I hate how perfectly I fit against him. He leans down, our temples touching as our faces rest against each other, turned away, and I know he won’t risk kissing me now that he knows it will hurt me. In that moment, I love and hate him for that. More than anything, I just want him.
‘What can I do?’ he asks in a low rumble.
But there is nothing to be done. He can’t fix this; neither one of us can, no matter how much we may want to.
‘You can’t,’ I whisper, and we hold each other in the silence that follows.
But then there’s a noise outside the war room, and the doors swing open. My father storms in, his pale face contorted in distress. I’ve never seen him like this before.
I’m about to ask him what’s going on, but then Marco’s eyes land on my mate.
‘Gather your council, wolf king. Your army has sent word. We’re about to have company,’ he says sternly.
I slide out from behind the chair, feeling cold and empty from the absence of Tristan’s body against my own.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘He’s coming, isn’t he?’ Tristan asks my father, and I blink in surprise, looking back and forth between them as they exchange a long, hard look.
What am I missing?
‘Who’s coming?’ I press.
‘It seems the Rogues aren’t the only army in our woods,’ my father says with a sigh, and all of a sudden, he seems so tired. He’s always been impeccable and ageless, but now he looks so…. old. ‘Viktor Massen is coming for me once more. This time, it seems, he’s brought his entire army.’
I’ve heard the expression ‘my heart stopped’ before, but I swear in that moment, I felt it. I feel the ground falling away beneath my feet, like a deer in headlights, punched in the gut with shock, frozen in disbelief, blood running cold in my veins, and all the other cliches, metaphors, and expressions that describe utter and complete horror. They all suddenly feel very, very real.
‘What?’ I nearly choke on the word.
‘I tried to warn you,’ Tristan says sadly, and I turn to face him with wide eyes.
Yellow tansies. A proclamation of war.
Tristan said they were meant to be a warning, not a threat.
‘The Banes are coming?’ I’m not sure who I’m asking, but I already know the answer.
‘They will be here by sunrise,’ my father says with an almost apologetic shake of his head.
‘So we kill them all.’
I hear Mark’s angry voice right before he turns the corner and steps into the war room behind my father, followed by Amara and Nico.
‘So I take it diplomacy is dead,’ Amara huffs disapprovingly.
Lucy walks in a moment later, and when her eyes land on mine, she shoves past the others and throws herself across the room to me.
I run to her and meet her halfway, though she nearly tackles me to the ground with the force of her hug.
‘You bitch,’ she mutters in between laughter and tears as she holds me tightly. ‘I was worried sick about you. Don’t you ever scare me like that again.’
I return her embrace wholeheartedly, smiling as she scolds me.
‘I’m so sorry. I won’t.’
She pulls away to survey me, scanning me from head to toe and then looking at Tristan over my shoulder.
‘You guys look like you’re dressed for a funeral. Don’t get me wrong, you both look great in black, but what is it with these nightwalkers and their fashion? Are vampires allergic to color or something?’
‘I missed you too, Lucy,’ I laugh.
Helena walks in, glancing at the Rovers with mild amusement before composing her solemn expression and looking back at my father.
‘My king, you were right. They are not alone.’
‘She’s right,’ Tristan says, and any trace of joy vanishes from my face as even Lucy’s expression falls. ‘We’ve been monitoring the Banes for the past few days. It seems Viktor has been forging alliances with some of the other packs in Silvertoth Peaks in order to grow his forces.’
Slowly, my father walks up to the large table in the center of the room. He looks between my mate and me and then pulls out a chair and takes a seat. Helena follows suit, taking a chair across from him.
The Night King watches Tristan as my mate joins them, and I take the other seat beside him.
One by one, we all sit at the table, and I can’t shake the sense that history itself is holding its breath, watching and waiting to see what happens next.
A council of four werewolves, a Rogue Alpha, two vampires, and a hybrid. Nothing like this has ever happened before.
‘Our scouts were not the only ones who were able to track my mate into your territory,’ Tristan explains.
‘Although we did manage to find her first,’ Nico points out.
‘It seems a spy for the Bane pack discovered that the girl was taken in by vampires,’ Mark says with a glare. ‘It seems Viktor has been keeping an eye on the nightwalkers over the years without anyone knowing.’
Of course. Viktor tried to take on the nightwalkers a long time ago and failed miserably. It should come as no surprise that he’s kept tabs on the foe that bested him.
‘My clan has a history with the Banes. I suppose I should have known that one day Viktor would return to try and finish what he started,’ my father replied.
‘But why now?’
‘Because of me,’ I say suddenly, my fists clenching. ‘It was one thing when his slave was tossed at the feet of outcasts. It’s another thing when a king who once defeated Viktor gets his hands on something that is his. His pride would never let that slide.’
Tristan places his hand atop mine, his fingers curling into my own to ease some of the tension.
‘You were never his.’
‘I certainly wouldn’t put it past Viktor to start a race war just to soothe his ego,’ Amara says carefully. ‘But what if it’s not that simple?’
She meets my questioning look with a small smile before glancing toward my father, bowing her head respectfully. ‘Tristan filled us in on some of the details. Hope you don’t mind.’
Good. I’m not sure when Tristan found the time to mindlink with his council, but it’s better that they all know the truth. Especially if there’s truly a war on the horizon.
My father feels the same way, and he waves his hand dismissively.
‘Viktor is many things, but a fool is not one of them,’ Amara starts.
‘Debatable,’ Nico and Lucy both say at the same time, but Amara politely ignores them.
‘What if he finally put the pieces together? When he discovered his niece was taken in by nightwalkers, he might have realized her connection to them. What if it revealed his sister’s affair? Why else would the Night King adopt a mysterious wolf girl into his court?’
‘It’s certainly possible.’
‘Revenge, pride, ego, blind hatred, ambition, pettiness… they’re all perfectly good reasons for a man like Viktor to start a war. But the bottom line is that he’s coming, and he’s brought friends,’ Mark says with a sigh.
‘As we all know, people fear what is different,’ Amara adds. ‘It wasn’t too hard for Viktor to convince other packs to lend him their armies once he revealed the threat of the nightwalkers. Many believed that your species was extinct or purely legendary. But they know enough to be scared, especially with the stories the Banes have been circulating. Viktor describes nightwalkers as abominations that threaten the very existence of wolves.’
‘So it doesn’t matter why he’s doing it. What matters now is how we stop him,’ Mark adds, exchanging a knowing glance with his mate.
Tristan is the one to reply, looking evenly at my father as his grip tightens on my hand.
‘We stop him together.’