The Wolf King's Luna

CHAPTER 11

CATHERINE.

I will not lie. I thought this was going to be painful. I accepting the rejection.

But it isn't.

The moment I accepted it last night, it felt like a weight was lifted off me. Property © NôvelDrama.Org.

Like a thirty-pound boulder has been resting on my shoulders and I just didn't know.

The relief… the wonder… the release, it is indescribable.

For the first time in years, I slept like a baby.

No fear of being attacked in the middle of the night. No need to worry about waking up before dawn.

Just pure, blissful, peace.

Now I am not saying that everything that had happened in the past is all gone. All that the trauma isn't there.

Because it is.

It is just better.

Like I know I am not going to get suffocated by it.

Like, I can recover.

Heal.

I hear a knock on the door and I hurriedly get up to open it, expecting either Damon or Diana.

Instead, I see what must be the most stunning girl ever.

Really what is with this pack and perfect looks?

She is built like those model Amazons.

Long, lithe body with straight black hair that falls to her waist.

She is tan and fit, if her arm muscle is anything to go by and she has the most startling pair of eyes.

One gold, one blue.

There is a word for that condition.

Hete-, heto-, hecto-,

"Heterochromia," she says

"Yes! Wait, what?"

"You were whispering under your breath," she answers. "I am guessing you were trying to peg my eye condition."

"Oh, yes. I was. I am sorry."

"It is fine. No foul. But that is not what I have."

"It's… not?" I ask with a heavy dose of skepticism.

"No. I was born with blue eyes. My wolf's eyes are gold."

"Oh, I see."

I do not see.

"It is strange, I know. But that is a story for another time. Here," she says as she hands me a few bags. "These are for you. I hope they fit. Luna Diama gave me your measurements and asked me to get you some clothes."

"Oh, thank you. That was nice of her. And you," I add.

"No biggie. I didn't mind really, I love shopping."

"Okay."

We stand there staring at each other in silence. What am I supposed to say now?

"Would you like to… see me try them on?" I ask.

"Yes, please," she gushes. "I am proud of my selections and I want to see if I did well."

"Great. Come on in then," I say as I pull open the door for her to come in.

"Wow. Classy and chic," she says as she takes in the interior of the rooms in awe.

"You have never been in here?" I ask as I begin sorting out the clothes.

"Of course not. This is the Alpha's quarters. Only family is allowed to be in here. Or mate. Which is technically family. Which you are. His mate. Right?"

I give a weak laugh to that, neither affirming nor denying the claim.

She shrugs at my response and continues exploring the room.

In her defense, the room is something. Like straight out of those really Regency movies.

The royal types.

Fit for a king.

Or queen.

Hmm.

I take one set of the ensemble and walk into the bathroom for a shower. I try to rush it because of… Damn it! I did not ask for her name.

This better not be a habit.

I towel off and try the clothes on.

It is a body hug top with a long flowing Caribbean-style skirt.

In the hues of gold and silver.

Subtle.

They also fit perfectly.

I step out of the ginormous bathroom and present myself to the girl.

"So," I say, startling her from her study of what I believe is a Faberge egg. "What do you think?"

She turns to me and gives me a slow up-and-down look, before breaking out into a satisfied smirk.

"I am very good. And you look stunning."

"Thanks," I say with a smile.

When was the last time I had clothes that belonged to me first? I can't remember.

"Let me do your hair, please."

"Okay."

We both walk over to the dressing mirror, picking one of the bags along the way.

As she begins brushing and coupling and doing all other things, I break the silence.

"So, what is your name?"

"Oh, my goddess. I am so sorry. Faye. My name is Faye.'

"Hello, Faye. I am Catherine."

"Nice to meet you, Catherine. You have nice hair."

"Really?"

"Yeah. Nice, full, and fluffy. I mean it is clear you haven't been taking care of it but still, really great hair."

"I never really had the chance to do so. Take care of it, I mean," I tell her.

"I see. Want to tell me why?"

"Hmm. Not really. It's still… fresh."

"That's fine. I can wait."

"You can?"

"Of course I can. We are friends. We are friends right?"

"Um, I don't know. How do you make friends?" I ask timidly.

"By getting to know each other. Slowly."

"Oh."

"I know your name, you know mine. You know I have a great fashion sense and you have a great body to pull it off. Friends."

I laugh at that. "I like that."

Wow. I think I just made a friend.

She finally finishes with my hair and turns me around to see the result.

"Is that… me?"I ask in awe.

"Oh, yes. Like I said, I am good."

She had styled it in a layered way, stylishly hiding my left eye and making me look all mysterious.

She adds a little bit of eyeliner and some lip gloss and I am this close to kissing her.

"I look amazing," I gasp out.

"That you do."

We are shocked out of our daze by the sounds of crashing plates. Turning, we see Damon, staring at me in shock.

"Catherine?"