Page 1 of Luna Rising

Entering My Vampy Era

Reality had never seemed so subjective. Every moment felt like forever until the darkness settled in and memories flooded my mind. The rush tempered the ache in my gut, overshadowing the hunger with an entirely different sort of pain.

Compared to my typical dreams of previous lives, these snippets were even more fragmented, like a movie montage played at 10x speed. Each scene brought an emotional sucker punch and sent my head reeling. The highs of the good times felt euphoric. The lows of the bad times threatened to cripple me, and the extreme shifts might’ve given me a heart attack if the organ still beat in my chest.

This was a level of torture I couldn’t have fathomed prior to living it. I’d thought losing my wolf was the worst thing I would ever experience. I would’ve gladly repeated that night a hundred times if it meant putting an end to the rapid-fire memories.

Just when the agony reached a pinnacle, he would arrive and pull me back to the waking world. For several blissful minutes, only he and I existed, and I felt at peace. Then, the hunger came, and my senses went into overdrive. One thought dominated the rest: blood. He would press his own wrist to my mouth, cradling my head in his lap as I sank my fangs into his skin and drank until I fell asleep.

The number of times this cycle repeated was anyone’s guess.

I wanted to cry and scream and laugh all at once. Most of all, I wanted to die. I finally understood why eternals and protectors chose to end their lives once rising. Had Ewan left anything sharp within reach, I might’ve stopped this horrible existence.

It was flashes from the dream where I rejected Stavros that truly drove me to the edge. His heartbreak was mine, and the knife cut so deep it left a mark time would never heal. Maybe if I’d severed the bond cleanly, it would have been easier for both of us. But I hadn’t.

Why? I wondered. Why did I condemn us both to an eternity of agony?

A primal scream filled my ears. Only his icy fingers touching my cheek made me realize the shrieks were mine.

“I’m here,” Ewan murmured, gathering me into his arms. “It’s okay, Zara. I’m here.”

Zara. He called me Zara.

My eyes squeezed shut as I leaned into his caress and the shouts died down. My skin should’ve been just as cool as his, yet I felt feverish and sweaty.

Ewan brushed the hair back from my face. His touch was light, gentle, and every fiber of my being responded. All the emotions I had for him formed a tangled and confusing ball in my gut. Twisted in warm sheets, I rolled and pressed my cheek against the flannel covering his chest, inhaling his scent.

He smelled like he always did, a mix of snow and spice with a hint of pine—and cinnamon, which was new. And specific to a very certain fae.

Nicasia. No, Winter, I corrected myself.

In this life, her name was Winter.

“When?” I croaked, my voice hoarse and raw. “When did she get here?”

Ewan knew exactly who I meant without explanation. “A few hours ago. Colleen and Walter arrived the morning after our bonding ceremony.”

“How long?” I asked.

“Five days.”

Days?

It felt like weeks or even months had passed while I writhed in the bed with Ewan as my sole tether to this life.

My throat was tight and so dry. I needed water. No… blood. I needed blood. But I knew as soon as I drank, the darkness would return, and the dream fragments would invade my thoughts. In that moment, my mind felt relatively clear, and I wanted to remain in the present with Ewan.

“I planned to call Winter, but she reached out first.” His arms tightened around me. “As I understand it, Archer stayed behind to watch over you once the others fled. He told them what happened.”

He ran his palm down my spine, hand resting at the small of my back as he squeezed me tighter. The memory of Angelica’s attack infiltrated my thoughts, bringing with it a rage that was hard to swallow.

She hadn’t meant to turn me. That backstabbing bitch had tried to kill me. Ewan’s blood had breathed life into my body, connecting us with another bond and making him my true mate, my alpha, and my sire. His mother had spoken of the power I held over her son, yet the control belonged to him now. I wasn’t sure how I felt about it. No one person should have so much sway over another.

“I’m sorry,” Ewan whispered, tipping my chin upward and running his fingers across my cheekbone. “I’m so fucking sorry, Zara. This isn’t what I wanted for you.”

I finally opened my eyes. Ewan’s expression was troubled, conflicted. Was he mourning Angelica? I wondered, jealousy burning in my chest.

His thumb traced my bottom lip and tugged until my fangs popped out. A growl rumbled in his chest and desire darkened his irises. Heat pooled between my legs.

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