Chapter 7 The Next Luna

• *Maddox*
• Sitting across the small table on the balcony near the dining room from Zabrina, I try to be polite, but it’s difficult. She will not stop talking, and I couldn’t care less about what she has to say.
• Zabrina's voice drones on, her words nothing but meaningless noise in my ears. She speaks of her time at court, the gossip, the parties, the latest fashion.
• I nod occasionally, feigning interest, my mind already wandering to the many things I’d rather be doing right now. The sun sets in the distance, the sky a fiery tapestry of orange and red, and yet all I can think about is Isla, her lips against mine, the feel of her body pressed against mine. I did not want to accept the dinner with Zabrina, but I already said I would consider the proposal.
• But I guess after the dinner, I'm going to say about no to her and Alpha Jordan. “So then, I told Daddy that I really wanted the shoes in silver and gold. Because you never know what color will look best, you know?” I nod. No, I don’t know. And I don’t care.
• I really, really don’t give a flying f*ck. I manage to hold back a groan as Zabrina babbles on about shoes of all things. Her vapid, shallow talk grates on my nerves, and all I can think about is how badly I want to get away from her. “Yes,” I say, nodding like a bobblehead.
• “Shoes are very important.” My eyes drift to the balcony railing, and for a split second, I contemplate jumping over just to escape this torture.
• “And what about dresses?” Zabrina continues, her eyes sparkling but I did not give a reply, so she continues. “Back to the shoes, so Daddy bought them, even though they cost ten thousand dollars for each pair. But then… it’s just money.” She giggles and takes a drink of her champagne.
• “You know what I mean, of course?” I smile. I do know what she means, but then, I also try not to waste money. I have an entire kingdom to think of, not just myself. “Indeed,” I reply, my tone flat and uninterested.
• “Money is a trivial thing when you have so much of it.”Zabrina giggles again, and I have to resist the urge to roll my eyes. Her laughter is like nails on a chalkboard, grating and unpleasant. “Well, of course,” she says, touching my arm lightly.
• “That’s why you need me. I can help you...relax.” She leans closer, her lips just inches from mine.
• “Eat,” I say to her, picking up my knife, I slice through my steak, watching the pink juice spill all over my plate. For a moment, I contemplate what it would look like to run the knife across her jugular, watching a different kind of juice, a dark crimson juice, pour out.
• I set the knife aside and remind myself I’m not on a battlefield. Sometimes, when you’ve seen everything I have, it’s difficult to remember…. I pick up my fork and knife, slicing through the steak with a bit more force than necessary.
• The juices that spill from the meat are a deep, vivid red, and I can’t help but imagine what other things would bleed the same color. Zabrina watches me, her eyes wide with fascination. I wonder if she’s ever seen death before, or if she’s just a pampered princess who doesn’t know the first thing about the horrors of war.
• My mind flickers to Rebecca, and I have to push the memory away. She certainly knew the secret darkness that haunted me since I returned from the war in the east….
• “You should drink some more of your champagne,” Zabrina says, her eyes on my half-finished glass. “You know, it’s a special bottle I brought with me from our pack lands. You’ll love it.” I smile at her and raise my glass to my lips.
• I usually like champagne, and she’s right to say that her pack is known for its wonderful champagnes and wines. But something about this particular glass tastes off. I can’t quite put my finger on it. When her lady-in-waiting brought it to me, I was anxious to taste it and finished my wine to have a sip, but now… I wish I hadn’t. It’s bitter, and I don’t know why…. But I don’t want to be rude, so I take another drink.
• Maybe I should just finish it off so I can have some more wine. But knowing Zabrina, she’ll insist on a refill. I set my glass down, nearly empty, and Zabrina’s eyes twinkle. “Do you like it?” “Sure,” I tell her, and she looks pleased.
• Eventually, the staff brings out dessert, and I am overjoyed to know that this is the last course. As soon as it is finished, I will dismiss myself and get out of here. I’ve done my duty as a host.
• “So…” Zabrina says, “I was thinking, after dinner, we could go for a stroll in the garden.” “The garden?” I repeat.
• “Tonight?”
• “Yes, I was there earlier today, and it’s so beautiful. I’d love to have you join me for a moonlit stroll.” In my mind’s eye, I see Isla’s face. If she was the one asking, I’d be tempted to take her up on the offer. I imagine her smiling face as she looks up at me, the silvery moon playing off her golden curls. I feel a twitch in my pants just imagining it. “Not tonight,” I tell Zabrina.
• Suddenly, all I can think about is Isla. Did she have a good day? Is she beginning to relax now that she’s been here a night and day? Or is she still terrified? I could tell when I met her the day before she was frightened. She shouldn’t be. I will take very good care of her….
• “You really should finish your champagne,” Zabrina says, slicing into her pie. Reluctantly, I lift the glass and finish off the drink. Setting it down, I am tempted to sarcastically ask her if she’s satisfied. I don’t, though.
• I only smile at her. She smiles back, and I swear I see something wicked in her grin. I take another bite of my chocolate cake, but I hardly taste it.
• My mind is still on Isla. I imagine she is lying in her bed now, naked, touching herself… running her hands along those curves, up the side of her breasts, along her round bottom, to her wet, aching core.
• She plunges three fingers in and cries out, whispering my name. Under the table, my dick springs to life. I feel like a man about to peel his skin off.
• “Are you all right?” Zabrina asks, still smiling at me.
• “Actually, no,” I tell her, setting my napkin on the table. “I’m not feeling well. I’m afraid you’ll have to excuse me.” Her face falls.
• “What? But… our stroll….”
• “Not tonight,” I tell her. “I’m sorry, Zabrina, I truly am, but I must go.”
• “But—” I don’t wait to listen to her protest anymore. I have never felt this way before in my entire life. Though I’ve certainly been turned on before, the urgency I feel inside of me isall-encompassing.
• I fly up from the table and shoot out the door and down the hall as fast as my three legs can carry me. I find myself walking to Isla's room, she suddenly becomes the only person I can think of.
• I want to knock but I pause, it's already dark, what if she's sleeping? To confirm, I peep through a tiny crack in the door, she's sleeping. Soundly.