Page 30 of King of Moon and Claws

Elora began to cry again, but for a different reason. She dropped the book to the ground again and let her face fall into her hands. Bastian’s hand paused its caress on her lower back.

“What do you mean?” he asked dubiously.

“I can't play puppet master. I don't want to learn what I could do with these hands. I want to leave all this behind, and I want to go home, Bastian. That is what I want.”

When she spoke, she wasn't crying. The weeping came in between the words, aware that she was tearing the king’s heart to pieces. But she had to tell her truth. She could no longer be controlled or confined by anyone for any reason, even if that person claimed to care for her deeply.

“I see,” he said. “Let me put some clothes on and we can discuss this."

Elora knew in her heart that she had made her decision. She missed home. She missed her people—even if they weren’t witches, they were still her friends. She knew that Bastian, amid his sorrow, wouldn’t ever really understand.

Rain began to scatter in the garden, dampening the charming plants. They stood up together with Bastian shielding her from the storm that had suddenly rolled in while she had been unnerved by her influence over the squirrel.

The conversation was not going to be easy, but there, as the rain began, the witch made her decision.

EIGHTEEN

BASTIAN

His heart was like an empty well filling with water. Runoff, rotten, sewage water. He stitched his mouth shut in the garden when Elora had first made her proclamation, hoping that it was a mere product of her anxiety. But when they returned inside, hair damp from the throttling rain, she was adamant about sparking up the dialogue again.

“Where are your clothes?” she asked.

Bastian kept himself composed long enough to dress in the same clothing he’d taken with him to Iagan’s, then gently dismissed his extra staff members. Tavish and Nerys who had made a full recovery remained as his most trusted and loyal attendants.

“Let’s go into the staff kitchen,” he said, misery already taking him over. "For some privacy."

Elora followed him in, obliging in her despondent manner. He closed the door behind them and asked both Tavish and Nerys to give him space.

They stood opposite one another and on either side of the island countertop. Bastian was tempted to be brash and angry, but his wolf wouldn’t let him. Those were all petty little boy games. He was a king, a man, and she was his mate.

And she would always be his mate.

Elora spoke first, running her hands through her moist hair. It stabbed at his chest to see the gesture, something she did only was feeling self-conscious. She’d done it in the hot spring, and a few times before baring her naked body to him.

It was always a prequel to the main show. Her bashfulness gave way to an erotic, intrepid goddess. But he knew at that moment, as the rain hammered against the stone castle, that the interaction wasn't going to end that way.

“Bastian, I want you to hear me out,” she said, voice even and unperturbed. “I have a good reason for wanting to go home. It's not just out of fear."

She wiped at her eyes with the back of her hand, and Bastian leaned against the counter.

“I’m listening."

“Where I’m from isn't the same as Wildwoods. I’m sure you have gathered that. Vampires go unnoticed here—well, beforehand, anyway. Paranormal creatures are a norm here. Back home, a vampire would be noticed."

Bastian knew what she was getting at, but he stubbornly wanted her to lay it all out for him. It was the part of the wolf in him that needed to hear every inch of her reasoning.

“And what does that mean?” he said as calmly as he could.

"It means that I will be protected. I will have plenty of warning, plus I have my animal friends to keep an eye out.”

Logically, it all made sense. His wolf did not want to listen, but he had to push it away. He saw the look in Elora’s eyes, that bright, luminous chrome gray, that told to him she was speaking from the heart. If she’d wanted to just leave him, she could have already. She was a damn mind-controlling witch.

Bastian let the walls of his aching heart fall. His eyes fixed on the floor as he responded, his tone colorless.

“You aren’t wrong, Elora. I know you are a very strong witch and that you can take care of yourself…but there’s something else too."

She waited for him in silence.

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