His Human Luna - The His Series #1 ✔️

chapter 62

~Sesil

I know that I said that I need out of this room but this isn't what I had in mind.

Greyson's shoulder blades are moving synchronically through the thin fabric of his grey shirt as he scampers upfront with me behind his back. I have always been astonished at their ability to wear whatever they want at whatever temperature. Unlike the weak human nature, their bodies are the furthest from being bound to things like weather.

Unlike him, even with the coat they were generous enough to give me and the heat slipping from my abdomen to the rest of my body, I can still feel the chill of cold air.

Just where the hell are we? Where the hell have they taken me to and how far am I from home? How far am I from Adrien?

I follow his lead carefully, just in case he decides that any way of killing me would do – as long as I'm not breathing – even if it doesn't follow the grand plan that he has already written for me.

It feels like forever that we've been walking in a straight path before we reach an edgy turn. At last, taking a slight spiral, we meet wooden stairs that seem to lead straight down to the floor ground. loud chattering is thundering from wherever we're descending to.

I try to memories everything I run my eyes on. This might be the last time I'm allowed to wander out of that damn room before having them put me on a wooden guillotine and enjoy the blade as it goes down my neck.

Downstairs, there are a lot of tables placed one beside the other with a handful of men squatting on them. Their loud, almost freighting laughs relax as we launch into the open space room. This place doesn't only look like a bar; it also very much smells like one. And with the stocks of booze bottles placed on the square-shaped tables, I can't see why it wouldn't.

With mouths almost entirely shut, the crowd watches intensely over us and I find myself only tucking my body behind the one man I can strangely trust. The very man who promised to kill me and invite every werewolf on earth to witness it. But as crazy and scary Greyson is, he is much more trustable than any man sailing right now in my terrified view.

"is that the little human Luna that everyone has been talking about?" one voice finally breaks the intense silence that both parties –ours and theirs – were choosing to stick onto.

"oh, I'll be damned" another dry voice answers. My view is too fear-blurred to focus on what their faces entail. They're dangerous and that, I don't even need my eyes to tell.

A heel clicks against the wooden floor, announcing the advancing of a heavyweight toward us. Greyson remains unmoved, only standing like a stone with me budging further behind his back from now and then. I can't help but find myself ramming my feet into his personal space with every trot the other weight takes toward us. He is the only, available veil, powerful and towering enough to scare the nightmares that this place crawls with, away from me.

Finally, and unwantedly on my part, the guy stands on the side of Greyson, peering right at my shrunken, small proportions. Although the blurriness that I can't flick away from my visions, the pitch blackness of his eyes is hard to miss. Along with the deep darkness of his skin and the roughness of his features. Rough, that is the description that every rogue I met had fallen perfectly into. Or at least those who stared down at me, not meaning to hide that they wish me all kinds of possible harm.

I look so small compared to all of them and that is not exactly boosting my confidence about having decent chances of leaving this place in one piece or even alive.

he sneers, yanking the combination of sharp teeth he has in his mouth to the visible outside.

He takes another light step toward me and somewhat closer to Greyson too, yet the man in question remains unruffled from the spot he is glued to.