THE SEQUEL TO 'LUNA OF ROGUES.'
Last Haven is scattered to the wind. It has been nineteen years since the castle burned - nineteen years of bitter warfare - and rogues are a dying breed. Defeat is starting to look inevitable.
Every rogue has a choic...
There is a trigger warning for references to sexual assault on the first third of this chapter. Feel free to PM me for a chapter summary if you need to.
But on a slightly more cheerful note, this week we have a beautiful illustration by LittleLoneWriterGirl. You may know her from the comment section :)
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Breakfast was quiet. I sat on the counter, swinging my legs back and forth while I bolted down a bowl of cereal. Liam was leaning against the countertop beside me, fiddling with the cuffs of his sleeves. His tie hung around his neck, and his bowl was sitting empty behind him. He ate a lot faster than I did.
The table itself was taken up by the girls from the boathouse. Charlie's mother bustled around them, refilling glasses of orange juice and loading their plates with fresh fruit. I'd discovered this morning that she had a mate - an implication I didn't want to think much about, given that she had children with him who were older than Charlie.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end. That was the first warning I got. I glanced up to see Lilah coming into the kitchen, and I nearly choked on my Weetabix. It was the first time she'd left her room since she'd got here.
And ... she was dressed. She wore a long black dress, her hair was braided into an elaborate knot, and she had done her make-up for the first time since Mason had died. She wasn't a Luna any more, but she sure looked like one that morning.
In the blink of an eye, the quiet turned to silence. There were no more scrapes of metal against china and no more rustling of food packets. The girls went still and rigid. Eyes down, heads bowed, doing their best to look meek.
Because Lilah's wolf was coming down on them like a ton of bricks. I had a few guesses as to why they might be nervous of her, and I had a few guesses as to why she was so hostile towards them.
She stopped beside the table and fixed one of the older girls with a piercing stare. "Get out."
The girl remained frozen in place. I saw her throat bob, and her eyes darted around the room, as if she was looking for help. She didn't find any.
"I am not going to sit here and pretend like I can't smell my mate on you," Lilah said icily. "So I'll say it again. Get. Out."
Oh, shit. It was too early in the morning for things to go so horribly wrong. There must have been a whiff of Mason on her clothing. I certainly couldn't smell anything, but I was a lot further away. One glance at Liam told me that he was going to be no help whatsoever. Lilah sounded angry, so he was just standing there, heart thumping in his chest, hardly even breathing.
"Lilah..." I began cautiously. "It's not ... what you think."
She plastered on a sickly smile. "Oh, it's exactly what I think. Ellen's always had trouble keeping her legs closed. And that's fine, but it can be hard to stomach seeing so many pack sluts at the breakfast table."
