The Twelfth Moon || ✔️

12. Morning Glory

Jerr had stayed in the room with me, as I crawled back into the bed to rest some more. He had reassured me that Beckett would not dare to come back tonight, but he had offered to stay nonetheless. I initially had refused his offer, as I could remember the Alpha telling me he didn't expect me to be taken care of, but Jerr insisted. The bloody Wise Moon originating had probably read my thoughts and realized how terrorized I actually was.

But the Death Moon was nearly gone and the daylight that seeped in, made it difficult for me to actually sleep. So I laid in bed, awake, and trying not to think too much with a Wise Moon in the room. No, I corrected myself. Jerr was Death Moon, too.

"Indeed, I am. Although I don't mind you calling me Wise Moon, either," he said, breaking the silence.

I rolled my eyes, wondering if he could sense that, too.

He laughed. "I can, if you're thinking about doing it."

"Of course you can," I groaned. "Do you always entertain yourself with reading other people's minds and breaching their privacy?" The words tasted sour in my mouth, but I didn't care.

"Only if they're interesting." A subtle smirk appeared in his face, promising to evolve in a wicked grin. "Besides, your thoughts are very loud and uncontrolled. Hasn't anyone ever taught you how to keep control of your own mind?"

"My parents passed eight years ago, before they could teach me really anything of importance. I know a lot about the history of our people, but that's about it," I said. I tried to ignore the tears that were growing in my eyes, hoping that would be enough to keep them away.

"Have you been on your own ever since?" He looked straight at me, nearly through me as he asked the question.

"There's no point in not answering these questions, is there?" I asked with a sigh. "Since you can just read my mind, and all."

He lightly shook his head, and kept his eyes on me. His gaze was soft, and reassuring, and warm. "Stories like that need to be told."

I sighed. "I've been alone for the most part, yes. I've gotten help every once in a while, but not enough to stay afloat without becoming self-sufficient."

"But that didn't work out too well, one would assume," he said, motioning his finger at me. The reassuring look and tone he'd given me earlier had melted away, and now a playful emotion danced around his face.

It unsettled me. "I'm still living, am I not?" I shot back.

"Are you though? Living? "he asked. "Yes, you still look alive to me. I even deserve a little bit of credit for that. But are you truly living?"

Before I could answer, his eyes shot to the door, as if he'd heard something.

A few seconds later, I heard it too. Someone was walking in the hallway. Jerr didn't seem alarmed by the footsteps, and somehow, I trusted him enough that it kept me calm, too.

Before the door opened, Jerr quickly said, "Don't bow, Sari. He hates that."

And so when our Alpha entered the room, I debated whether I could trust his advice, but I didn't lower my head. The Alpha didn't make any comment about it, and went straight to the velvet chair opposite Jerr.

His silver eyes shot towards me, but immediately went back to Jerr when he saw my face. My injury had started healing already, but when I touched my cheek with my hand, my skin still hurt under my touch. I was sure Beckett's doing was still showing on my neck and my face, even if the healing process had begun already.

"So, Beckett paid us a visit," Jerr explained to the Alpha.

"He did what?" the Alpha growled, looking back at me. He shot straight back to Jerr after assessing that the wound on my face was inflicted by Beckett. His eyes were blazing, and I found myself relieved it wasn't aimed at me. "And you let it come this far?" he asked, raising his eyebrow and pointing his finger at me.