Their Forgotten Luna

Whispers of a Memory

Cierra:

The victory of the Nightfall Hunt only lasted for just that, the night.

Instead of the dreamless sleep I have experienced since coming to the pack house, tonight was very different.

I felt the burning in my side, the rage in my bones, and the merciless adrenaline in my bloodstream. I heard the rogues howling, felt their hot breath on my skin with every bite my body took. I saw Dane, and the worry etched into his face; I saw Dominic, and the soul-numbing fear he carried.

Then, I would wake in a puddle of sheets and sweat, my skin and bones aching from the injuries that had long since healed.

Finally, I crawled from my bed and padded my way across the hall, opening Dom’s door, sneaking into his space in the quiet of the night, breathing in lungfuls of his smoky scent, calming the moment my toes touched his carpet.

He was there, sprawled across the mattress, dark hair mussed, jawline softened by sleep. The steady rise and fall of his chest was hypnotic, the kind of rhythm I could fall into.

I crept closer, my hand trembling as I reached toward him, seeking the reassurance of his warmth, the comfort of his presence. But before my fingers could brush his arm, the air shifted.

In a flash, I was snatched, yanked forward, and rolled beneath him, his weight caging me in. His eyes, sharp and burning gold in the moonlight, locked on mine with a feral intensity.

“Dom—” I gasped, my heart stumbling against my ribs.

His hand pressed to my wrist, pinning me against the sheets. “What the hell are you doing sneaking in here, Cierra?” His voice was low, rough, thick with that alpha edge.

“I wasn’t—I just…” My throat tightened as I searched for words. “I had a nightmare, or a memory came back. I thought—”

“You thought creeping up on me in the middle of the night was a good idea?” His brows furrowed, but his hold softened, though he didn’t move off me. “Do you have any idea what I could have done? What if I hurt you?”

“You wouldn’t,” I whispered, staring up at him. “I know you wouldn’t.”

His jaw clenched. “You don’t get it. My instincts don’t ask permission, Cierra. They react to touch, to threats, to everything. You can’t just… slip into my space like that.”

I swallowed hard, though the pounding of my pulse wasn’t just from fear. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I just… I feel safe here with you.”

Something flickered across his expression—surprise, maybe even guilt. His grip loosened fully, his palm dragging from my wrist to lace gently with my fingers.

“You shouldn’t,” he muttered, but it didn’t sound convincing.

“Why not?” My voice was barely audible, but the weight of the question pressed between us.

He let out a rough breath, eyes narrowing like he was fighting something deep inside. “Because if you keep running to me every time you can’t sleep, every time the nightmares eat at you—I won’t be able to let you go.”

“Maybe I don’t want you to,” I said before I could stop myself.

His gaze snapped to mine, fire and disbelief tangled in those honey golden irises.

“Cierra…” My name was a warning, but his chest pressed heavier against me, as if he couldn’t quite make himself move away.

I bit my lip, my voice trembling as I confessed, “When I wake up, it’s the same thing every night—the rogues, the blood, the fear. I come here because the moment I’m near you, it stops. You’re the only thing that makes it stop.”

Silence fell. He stared at me like I had broken something inside him, cracked through all his iron control.

Finally, he whispered, “You’re going to ruin me.”

I exhaled shakily, the tension stretching between us until I dared to ask, “Then why are you still holding me here?”

His lips curved into something between a snarl and a smile, a sound like a growl rumbling in his chest. “Because letting you go feels impossible.”

For a moment, I couldn’t breathe, trapped beneath the weight of him and the truth that threaded through his voice. My heart hammered like it was trying to tear free.

Then, slowly, Dom’s shoulders eased, his golden eyes softening as if the storm inside him had finally settled. He shifted his weight, no longer pinning me, and instead gathered me into his arms. The movement was surprisingly gentle, his warmth wrapping around me like a shield.

“C’mere,” he murmured against my hair, pulling me close until my cheek rested over the steady beat of his heart. His scent—smoke and cedar—wrapped around me, grounding me in a way nothing else could.

“You shouldn’t hate me for sneaking in,” I whispered, my fingers pressing against his bare chest.

“I don’t,” he said firmly, no hesitation in his tone. “You needed me. That’s enough.”

I swallowed hard, the sting of tears pricking at my eyes. “I just… I didn’t want to be alone in it anymore.”

His hand slid slowly down my back, firm and protective, his thumb tracing small, soothing circles. “You’re not,” he promised. His voice had lost all its sharpness now, replaced by something low and steady that sank straight into my bones. “Not tonight. Not any night you come to me.”

I pulled back just enough to search his face, needing to see if he meant it. The gold in his eyes glowed softly in the shadows, unwavering.

“Sleep, Cierra,” Dom whispered, his forehead brushing mine. “I’ll keep watch. I’ll ward off every nightmare before it ever touches you.”

Something inside me cracked wide open at those words, the jagged edges of fear softening into something fragile but warm. I tucked myself deeper against him, letting his heartbeat lull me, his arms locking around me as though daring the world to try and take me from him.

For once, the darkness behind my eyelids didn’t immediately flare with fire and blood. His warmth created a barrier between me and the memories that had been pulling at me tonight.

Safe. I felt safe.

And yet—

Even as the pull of sleep grew heavier, Dane’s face flickered at the edges of my thoughts. The memory of his voice calling my name through the chaos, the wild desperation in his eyes when the rogues tore through the night. The way he had looked at me tonight.

A pang cut through me, sharp enough to make my chest ache. Dane’s worry, his presence, lingered like a shadow I couldn’t quite shake.

But Dom’s arms tightened around me, pulling me back, grounding me in the now. His heartbeat said stay. His warmth said safe.

I breathed him in one last time, letting the world blur. My final waking thought was a tangle of contradictions—Dominic’s steady strength wrapped around me, and Dane’s unyielding gaze haunted the edges of my dreams.

Then, finally, sleep claimed me.