Page 33 of Vicious Luna
After emerging from the basement, I swing by my room to grab my laptop and head out onto the patio, figuring some fresh air might alleviate the pounding in my skull. Flopping down into one of the Adirondack chairs around the firepit, I flip open the lid of my laptop, drumming my fingers on the wooden armrest while it boots up.
The sound of the patio door opening behind me makes me dart a quick glance over my shoulder, and I’m relieved when I see that it’s Matty coming outside rather than my old man. Clutching a mug of coffee in his hands, he carries it over to me, setting it on the arm of my chair. It’s spiked how I like it- I can smell the whiskey.
“Figured you might want a refill,” he murmurs, shuffling backwards and eyeing me warily, like I’m a live bomb dangerously close to detonation. “You alright?”
“Fine,” I grumble, placing my hands on the keyboard of my laptop to type in my passcode. “Why?”
Matty shuffles his feet nervously. “Just, after that stuff with your dad… I mean, I know it’s none of my business, but you can talk to me, if you want.”
I glance up at him from my computer screen, chewing on the inside of my cheek as I regard him carefully.
Trust isn’t something I take lightly. The only people in this world I’ve ever truly trusted are my parents and Ben, two of which are now dead. As much as I want to trust Matty, I still barely know the kid. He’s only been around for a year, and it wasn’t until recently that I even engaged in a meaningful conversation with him.
What are the chances that my dad put him up to getting close as a test of my allegiance?
I push that thought out of my head as quickly as it entered, reminding myself that I trust my father implicitly. Our core beliefs may not align as much as he wants them to, but that doesn’t mean he’d try to go behind my back and sabotage me. He’s even more distrustful than I am, so I’m all he’s got.
“Have a seat,” I say, gesturing to the chair across from me absently.
Matty’s eyes light up and he quickly moves to comply while I drop my gaze back to my laptop screen, keying in a couple more passwords to pull up The Guild’s accounts and the dark web message board. It hasn’t seen a lot of action since we had to take it down and relaunch following a hack, but it’s my job to check it for any tips, record them, and wipe it clean so that no one else can access the information.
“Anything of note in the reports?” I ask, not looking up from my screen. There’s no reason I can’t multitask.
“Delta is being briefed on strategy for a new mission, and Griff requested to be excused from training for the remainder of the week.”
“No,” I reply flatly, scrolling through the updated banking records. I glance up at Matty, narrowing my eyes as his first statement belatedly registers. “Delta’s taking on a new mission?”
He stares back at me wide-eyed, jaw flapping as he struggles for words. “Uh, there weren’t any specifics in the report, it just said they were going over strategic formations for a new assignment…”
I clench my jaw, squeezing my eyes shut to quell the rush of anger threatening to surge forward.
Don’t shoot the fucking messenger, Cam.
Blinking my eyes open, I refocus on Matty. “Understood,” I grit out. “Looks like I’ll be having words with my old man about keeping me in the loop.”
My laptop pings with a notification and I glance back down at the screen, seeing an alert from our surveillance system citing an abnormal increase in motion detected in cell one.
I know I shouldn’t pull up the video feed- I’m in the middle of important Guild business, and I need to stop watching Luna like it’s my fucking job- but I can’t help myself. As soon as I see that damn notification, my fingers are moving on the mousepad to click into it, hands typing out the passcode to gain access to the surveillance system.
After a secondary delay that feels like a fucking eternity, the image of the basement cell floods my screen, and I blink at what I see.
Did I pull up the wrong feed?
Navigating to the list of live cameras, I verify that I’m indeed looking at the feed for cell one, where the Luna is being held. It’s an image that I’ve looked at countless times, except now, there’s one key thing missing.
Her.
16
My inner wolf whines as Cam retreats, which would be alarming if I didn’t know it can only be the biproduct of some drugged-up delusion. The long-term effects of extended exposure to wolfsbane are proving to be nasty. I can feel my animal tucked away safely in my subconscious, scratching at the surface, but she hasn’t fully broken through.
Yet.
Slowly but surely, some of my shifter abilities are starting to come back. When I woke up this morning, the bruises on my wrist were considerably faded and the split skin of my lower lip had knit itself back together. I felt stronger and more energized as I pushed up out of bed, and when Cam came downstairs, I could smell the whiskey on his breath before he even spoke. The enhanced healing, strength, and senses are credit to my wolf, but even so, she’s not quite strong enough for me to fully inhabit her with a shift.
Still, I’m thrilled the first part of my plan worked, because that means I can start putting the next steps into action. By my count, the full moon should be getting close, and the closer it gets, the stronger my wolf will be. She’ll need to be at peak strength for me to have any hope of escaping this hell hole,so while I wait, it’s time to focus on phase two: seducing my captor.
Men think with their dicks. It’s not an observation, it’s a fact- and Cam’s packing a hell of a brain in his pants. Every time I close my eyes, all I see is that massive cock of his. My mind goes straight to the image of him fisting it, and holy fuck… I think I’ve been dicknotized.