The Ruined Luna

Fifteen

"Please tell me you thought was weird, 'cause I thought that was really, really weird." Winnie whispered under breath.

"It was weird." Tripp confirmed.

We all watched as the Alpha strode away, so rigid and stiff I couldn't help but wonder if someone'd tagged him with a taser or something when we weren't looking. He was so damn confusing. One moment he looked at me like he wanted to eat me, which was absolutely ridiculous, then...I didn't know. Like some kind of flip had switched and just the sight of me was enough to send him running.

"Alphas don't make sense." I murmured, an unexpected hurt thrumming though me.

"Nope." Winnie agreed.

The entire mess hall seemed to relax as he left the room, and we finished our meals in short order before placing our trays into the indicated bin. I hadn't been able to eat another bite as my stomach started to cramp and twist. Winnie excused herself to go to the bathroom.

The movie was in a nearby room, and we settled down to watch as Rita swept through the door, her short hair pulled into a severe ponytail and wearing her usual tight black t-shirt and jeans. Tripp looked down at his watch as she sat in the unoccupied chair next to his.

"About that time huh?"

"What is she doing here?" Rita asked stiffly without answering him.

Tripp gave her a blank look. "I'd think that'd be obvious."

Her thin lips pressed into a fine line. "That's now what I mean."

"They what do you mean?" I asked, arching a brow. I wasn't about to be talked about like I wasn't sitting one seat over from hers. And there was no one else in the room.

Rita's dark eyes snapped to my face. "I mean what are you doing here, in the pack house?"

A muscle twitched in Tripp's cheek. "She isn't confined to the cabin, Rita." He answered for me, not giving me a chance to speak.

"It's a mistake, having her here with the rest of us." She bit out, glaring. "We don't know her, or anything about what she's capable of."

"She is sitting right here." I growled, my fingers tightening on the arms of my chair.

"Alpha said she was free to come and go from the main building when she wanted. Let it go." Tripp warned her, his expression going steely.

"That's a mistake. She shouldn't be here at all."

"Drop it, Rita. Now."

My nighttime guard scowled, her lip curling over her teeth, but rapidly regained her composure as Winnie walked in and plopped down in the chair next to mine.

"Off duty?" she asked her brother.

"Yep." he replied, still glowering at his partner.

Winnie, thankfully, remained oblivious since the movie started and the lights dimmed.

'Guess the hiking wasn't the actual problem.' I thought a little sullenly.

Rita just plain didn't like me. Hated me, if her reaction was anything to go on, and had no issue showing it. The distrust saturated her scent so much that I wondered how Win didn't notice.

The movie played, but I wasn't interested in watching it anymore. Instead, my mind replayed Kyrian's actions, not liking the discrepancy in his mood, and the strange disappointment I'd felt when he'd abruptly walked away. I had to be out of my mind to feel anything but relief that he'd left, right? It has been just over two weeks since I got here. Barely enough time to touch grass. I couldn't possibly want any man's attention, let alone the man keeping me here against my will. My goal hadn't changed. I still wanted to leave. Didn't I?

Now that I thought about it, I hadn't tried to plan my escape at all. Instead, I'd slept, and wandered my pretty cage without realizing I had stopped seeing the bars. What the actual fuck? Could they put some kind of magic on me to make me complacent?

No. No, it wasn't that I rationalized. Escape depended on strength, careful planning, supplies. 'You have to learn the rules of the game. And then you have to play better than anyone else.' That's what I'd been doing. Learning this pack, how they functioned, while gathering what I needed to run and making sure my body was fit to do it. Recuperating physically had just taken more of myself than I'd originally thought it would. Nothing had changed.

When the movie ended, I left, mumbling a quick goodbye, before speeding back to my cabin and closing myself in. As soon as the door shut behind me, I wanted to laugh at the irony. I'd thought the Alpha had been hot and cold, when here I was, doing the same thing.

My heart continued to pound in my chest and my skin suddenly felt like it was being pulled too tightly across my bones. It...felt hard to breath. I sank to my knees, leaning over and pressing my forehead against the cold stone floor in front of the door as I tried to catch my breath, my lungs unsure whether to suck in more air or let it out. They felt full, but it didn't feel like enough. Like they couldn't expand enough to find relief. Sweat quickly soaked my shirt and slid down the sides of my neck. I hated the feeling. I hated how out of control I felt inside. It was too much. Everything was too much.

I didn't feel seated in my body anymore, like I was somehow floating just above it. Like I wasn't connected to anything. And it scared me.

My hands trembled, and I sank my nails into my arms, but the pain wasn't enough to distract me. My heart ached, like any minute the exertion would be too much for it and it'd just give out. I was sinking. I was drowning. I couldn't fucking breathe.

And for a long time, that's all there was. Just the overwhelming fear and my reaction to it.

Let it stop.

Let it stop.

Please, let it stop.

I wasn't sure how long I ended up laying there, counting breaths in an attempt to slow my racing heart. Holding it when the lightheadedness would come back, and I'd have to start all over. By the time it finally ended, I realized what had happened. I'd had a panic attack.

Rather than get up, I crawled to the couch and pulled myself onto it. It was easier than standing. Easier than picking myself off another floor, even if this one was clean and not the one in that dank fucking basement.

I clutched one of the decorative pillows to my chest, sore and exhausted. It had been too much. Being in that pack house, sitting in that room, letting that Alpha twist me up all over again. Far, far too much.

"Not again." I whispered to the empty, dark living room. "Not yet."

I hated the attack even more because it showed just how much farther I had to go before I was ready to leave. I wouldn't have the opportunity to hide away and get myself together once I was on my own again. These kinds of episodes needed to be gone, or at least a hell of a lot more manageable than this one had been.

After a while, I finally did get to my feet and dragged myself into a shower, letting the hot spray sooth my aching muscles. I even allowed myself to cry a little. There was no one to see, and the water washed them away before they even left the fan of my eyelashes.

I grabbed the bottle of whiskey from the wet bar and took it into the loft with me. I touched the small lamp on the dresser, bathing the area in a soft golden glow, before yanking on a clean shirt and some sleep shorts, then climbing into bed with the bottle between my knees. I stared at it, at the dark amber liquid that sloshed behind the glass, before pulling the cork top and taking a deep gulp. It burned all the way down, hitting my stomach before spreading back up into my chest and spreading through my face, arms, and cold fingers.

It wouldn't help, getting drunk. It would only let me pass out for three hours before waking up feeling like shit and the room spinning so I'd have to lay awake till nearly dawn when I'd finally fall asleep. But as the burn cooled, that honestly didn't seem like that bad of an idea, and I swallowed more.

The bottle was a fourth gone before exhaustionpulled me down into oblivion, and waiting just like I'd thought were thosememories.