Their Forgotten Luna

A kiss for the stars

Cierra:

Though night had quickly fallen over the pack, the sting of the day still clung to my skin. Dom had set me up in a suite on his floor. After showering and eating dinner, the comfort of his presence eased some of the heaviness I carried. Still, the relief was brief before I tumbled back into the weight of loss—my memories missing, raw like a wound I couldn’t close. I knew Dane was holding something back, and though I wanted answers, right now I couldn’t face it. My family needed me. And underneath it all, there was Dominic: I was drawn to him, the sensation filling me and yet leaving me hollow, both at once.

A soft knock on the door broke the chaos of my mind.

“Hey.” The softness of his voice cut through the ringing silence in the room.

“Hey.” My reply came out lighter than I felt, a practiced smile woven into a single syllable.

He sat with me before the fire, his frame collapsing into the rug with a fatigue that echoed my own. Shadows danced across his chiseled features. The glow cloaked him in a warm amber.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, voice low, careful—as if afraid I might shatter at the wrong touch.

I sighed, my chest tight. Frustration mixed with grief as I confessed, “I’ve tried so hard to piece together everything… and nothing works. I can’t remember anything.”

The admission cracked something inside me. I bit down on the sob swelling in my throat. It betrayed me in my eyes. He leaned forward, his rough fingers brushing aside strands of hair clinging to my damp skin. Tenderly, he tucked them behind my ear. His thumb swept beneath my lashes.

“Don’t cry, CiCi,” he murmured. The old nickname hit me like a punch to the gut—so familiar, so intimate, it almost made me believe there was a whole world I had lost with him inside it. “It’ll come back.”

“Will it?” My voice trembled, half a plea, half a challenge.

He only nodded, though the weight in his eyes betrayed the uncertainty of his words. His hand fell from my cheek. Instead of retreating, he shifted closer until his knee brushed against mine. The heat of him wrapped around me, steadier than the fire itself.

“Maybe… before it does, I should tell you something.”

My heart stilled. “What?”

He swallowed, his jaw tight as if the words cost him to say. He took my hands gently in his, his calluses rough against my skin. The touch grounded me even as the moment threatened to undo me. He opened his mouth—then shut it, his throat working. When he finally spoke, it was barely beyond a whisper.

“I know you don’t remember… our time before the attack. But, Cierra…” His eyes lifted to mine, burning with honesty. “I have been in love with you for years. Ever since you kicked my ass the first time we sparred together.”

A startled laugh broke through me, choked by emotion. “That was years ago.”

“And I’ve been yours ever since,” he said, his mouth twitching in a half-smile. "I’ve been silent about my feelings. I swallowed every damn thing I wanted to say, and no matter what happens, I can’t do that anymore—not when every day could be stolen from us. I want to scream it, Ci. But I’ll wait. I’ll wait until you’re ready for me to be loud about my feelings for you.”

Something inside me fractured at his words, delicate and trembling. I leaned in before I could reconsider, pressing my mouth to his. Slowly, softly, as though he were something precious that I might lose if I moved too fast. His taste was fire and devotion, steady and consuming at once.

The way his lips worked mine, the way his hand tangled in my hair while the other caressed my face, how his tongue tasted when it touched mine, dancing smoothly, effortlessly, as though we had done this thousands of times. Perhaps we had... but it was the soft, dark sounds rumbling from his chest that nearly made me lose control.

The kiss left me shaking and breathless when we pulled away—conflicted and hungry all at once. Because if I were honest with myself, it left me aching for more.

His eyes locked on mine, pupils wide, chest rising hard beneath his shirt. “The moon doesn’t ask permission to shine, Cierra,” he murmured, voice ragged. His lips were kiss-bruised, his stubble roughened against my skin as he brushed close again. “It simply does. That’s what you are to me. Light I can’t look away from.”

The words shattered me. For a heartbeat, I was filled with something so terrifyingly beautiful it made me want to run. The fear tangled with wonder, wrapping around the hollowness in my chest and pressing in on my heart.

.

“I don’t… I don’t know how to be that for you,” I whispered, my voice breaking.

“You don’t have to know,” he said fiercely, squeezing my hands. “You just have to be. I’ll do the rest.”

For a heartbeat, I almost leaned into him again. I almost let myself fall into the warmth of his mouth, the promise of his devotion. Then fear tangled with want inside me, sharp and desperate, and I pulled away.

“Dom…” I whispered, shaking my head.

He didn’t push. He didn’t beg. He simply sat there, the fire flickering between us, his hands still holding mine. His silence was steady, like a vow.

If I kissed him again, I wasn’t sure I’d be able to stop. Some missing part of me ached to reach out for more. The rational side of me screamed to be safe, to wait until my birthday to be sure the bond was real.