Page 70 of Wolf Queen Ruin
“See?All according to plan, then.You know your stuff.”
She grinned infectiously, her dirt-smudged face glowing with humor.“Is that a compliment or a complaint?”
I pulled myself up, ending closer to her than I’d intended.For a moment we stood there, our bodies nearly touching, her warmth radiating between us like an invitation.
“It depends on if I have to fall again,” I answered.
“I won’t let you fall,” she said, staring up at me.
Too late, I thought.
I was already falling for Luna.
Helplessly.Hopelessly.
Like plummeting into an abyss I never wanted to escape from.
Chapter twenty-one
Luna
Damien’sshirtwasintatters, and damn if that wasn’t turning into the most inconvenient distraction of this whole tomb-raiding adventure yet.
I didn’t think I’d ever been so turned on by a man’s clavicles.Hisclavicles.
It didn’t help that every time he moved ahead of me on the stairs, the remnants of fabric shifted to reveal more of his back—all sculpted muscle and artwork.Intricate tattoos in midnight-blue ink spilled across his shoulder blades and down his spine, ancient symbols intertwining with what looked like suns.All shapes and sizes of them.An odd choice for a vampire, but he’d gotten them when he was a fae, before he was turned.The designs seemed to move with each flex of his shoulders, like they were alive on his skin.
I forced my gaze away for the hundredth time.
Focus on staying alive, Luna, not on Vampire Ken’s surprisingly ripped physique.
The stairway opened into a broader chamber with a vaulted ceiling supported by columns carved to resemble tree trunks.Murals covered every available surface, telling a continuous story that wrapped around the entire room—hunting scenes featuring wolves of impossible size, ceremonies conducted beneath full moons, battles against pale, elongated figures that could only be vampires.
“The Wolf Queen’s history,” Damien said, his voice dropping to a reverent whisper.As he studied a vivid depiction of a giant silver wolf standing triumphant over seven humanoid forms, his fingers twitched at his sides, as though fighting the urge to touch the ancient artwork.“Or at least, her preferred version of it.”
For a vampire, he showed surprising respect for werewolf history.Or maybe it was just respect for history in general.The way he studied the murals reminded me of how a lit nerd might analyze a first-edition book or how a tomb raider might look at an ancient tomb.
I was sure my face showed that I was definitely in my happy place.
“It’s depicting her transformation,” I said, studying the sequence.“See?Here she begins as a human woman—a shaman or a priestess of some kind.Then she communes with wolf spirits…drinks something from this bowl…and emerges as something new.”
Damien moved closer to me, his shoulder brushing mine as he leaned in to follow where I was pointing.“Not just a shifter, but something more powerful, according to some legends,” he said.“The stories say she found a way to harness the essence of all werewolf bloodlines, becoming a sort of nexus for shifter magic.”
The next chamber was smaller but more elaborately decorated.At its center stood a stone altar, its surface stained dark with what I suspected was ancient blood.Around the altar, the floor had been inlaid with a mosaic depicting spiral patterns similar to the one on the entrance stone, but more complex.
“This was a worship space,” I said, keeping my voice low.The air here felt charged, as if the stones themselves retained memory of the rituals once performed.“Where her followers would offer sacrifices.”
I took a step, and my boot crunched down onto a smooth, bare stone without a spiral.
A sharp click echoed through the chamber.
A hiss of air sliced the silence.Something flashed toward me.
“Shit!”I flung myself backward instinctively, my breath catching in my throat.
Pain stung just above my eye.
“Luna!”
