A Luna for Alpha Kieran-Chapter 82: Get off my mind

Bookshelves lined the walls of the sitting area that doubled as a library. In all honesty they looked like decor more than utility.

This lounge was dimly lit in contrast to the overbearing shimmer and shine outside.It was soaked in the scent of mahogany, old parchment, and smoke and was like a pseudo calm in the middle of all the mayhem.

There was nobody in there apart from Kieran at the moment... much to his relief and mental well being ( the mental well being bit was debatable).

Kieran paced the room like a man hunted by thoughts he could not outrun.He shook his head hard, as if he could physically dislodge the memories.

His strides were sharp.

Back and forth.

Back.

And forth.

He shook his head twice...then again, like he was trying to flick water from his ears.

Each shake was a denial, a refute.

"Get out of my head..." he muttered, jaw clenching. "Dammit. Who the hell are you,woman?"

But the woman would not leave him alone.

That vision of her...the red that draped around her like raw,wounded skin... that sliver of an emerald pendant glinting between the hollow of her breasts... it refused to let him go.

His throat felt tight. His pulse, erratic.

"Fuck."

He slumped down onto the wide velvet couch, dragging both hands over his face, pressing his fingers into his brow like he could force the thought out if he concentrated enough.

He tried to focus.

Why was he here?

Right! The mission. Time was crawling towards midnight and his departure was near. Just a few more hours and minutes...

And after this? He would ride west.Find out the den where those girls were being trafficked. Find that Vance guy if he was lucky...Quick. Clean.Smooth.

But his mind... drifted.

Again.

Back to her.

Her lips. Her posture. Her fucking glare while she remained silent.

He groaned and let his head fall back against the couch, one hand covering his eyes. His chest rose and fell unevenly.

"Is this about the fact that I haven’t gotten laid in months?" he asked the ceiling, voice hoarse. "Is that it? Is my dick staging a mutiny?Bloody..."

His scoff was short. Dry. Joyless.

He hadn’t touched anyone since...Don’t...Don’t say it... Fuck... Since Autumn.

Not that he wanted to. Not really. That whole Chapter was buried in the ruins of what once felt like fate.

But tonight... tonight something inside him itched to touch that woman in red.

No!!! Not just touch.But to...

Just then... The door creaked open.

There was a soft click of heels followed by the gentle clink of glass.

Kieran’s body went still, then tense.

"Alpha?" came a breathy, practiced voice. "You look...parched."

He opened his eyes.

A young server stood before him, tray balanced on one hand, her dress more of a veil than a garment...dark, sheer, clinging in the right places, vanishing in others. Her cleavage was practically staring at him, begging for attention.

She stepped closer, balancing the tray lower, exposing herself more with every inch.A feast for the eye.

Kieran sighed. "Not now. Leave it."

She did not.

"I was told to keep the guests well... hydrated."

"I said..." he began, but then her eyes flicked downward. She looked small. Like she would be punished if she failed.

Kieran clenched his jaw.

Fine.

He took one of the glasses. "Just one sip."

She smiled, stepping back. "Of course, Alpha."

The drink was pale violet, laced with gold shimmer. Exotic. Rich. A slow perfume of honey and wild herbs met his nose. Familiar in a wrong kind of way.

He brought it to his lips and took a small sip.

A single heartbeat passed.

Then it hit him.

Hard.

The warmth. The dizzying rush. The tingle in his fingertips. An aphrodisiac???

Kieran’s eyes snapped to hers. "What the fuck is in this?"

The server blinked, stepping back a pace, eyes wide like prey caught mid flight.

"The same as all the others, Alpha. It’s the celebration blend. Just what the kitchen prepared..."

Kieran stood up abruptly, towering over her. He grabbed her wrist too hard. "This isn’t normal wine. It’s laced. What the hell is in it?"

"I...I swear, it’s what everyone is drinking!" she stammered. "I didn’t..."

And just like that, the fog lifted.

The heat, the dizziness, the rising hunger in his blood, the sudden arousal...it all vanished like smoke sucked out of a room.

Kieran’s breath stilled.

His eyes narrowed.

"Witchblend," he whispered, more to himself than to her.

That explained the high. The brief mind-bending haze.

He looked down at the half empty glass...and then downed the rest in one go.Then he took all the rest that were on the tray.

The server stared at him like he had just swallowed poison.

"You are not supposed to..."

"I know," Kieran said grimly, licking the last drop off his bottom lip. "That’s what makes it fun."

And then her demeanor changed. Witchblend would wear away in an hour or so... till then he could let his worries go... let his head rest...

The girl’s eyes widened.

That fear melted into something else. A sultry, slow burning fire. Like she had been waiting for this shift in Kieran.

Her hand landed softly on his shoulder, trailing down his chest. "Is there... anything else I can help with, Alpha?" she purred. Her fingers toyed with the button at his collar. "Now that you are... relaxed."

Kieran did not stop her.

Her hand slid lower, unbuttoning him, her palm brushing against his bare chest. She leaned in, lips brushing the shell of his ear.

"Your skin is burning hot," she whispered, voice like silk soaked in sin. "I can fix that."

Kieran’s mouth twitched.

Not a smile. Something darker.

"You know how to play a role," he murmured, not moving.

"Roles are what keep us alive in places like this,Alpha, "she whispered. Her hand was now pressed against his stomach, her thigh brushing his knee.

He tilted his head, studying her. "What’s your name?"

"Does it matter?"

He chuckled low. "Nah!"

She straddled his lap like it was choreographed, her fingers tracing the faint scar near his collar bone.

Still, Kieran did not move. His mind was elsewhere.

Not with the woman sitting on him. Not with reality.

Even as her hands moved across his body, even as she kissed along his chest while slowly placing herself in a position to ride him till the end...it was the image of the woman in red that clawed at him.

Emerald and blood. Fire and storm.

His hands slid around the server’s waist, pulling her closer.

"You are not her," he said under his breath.

The server paused. "Who?" fгee𝑤ebɳoveɭ.cøm

He did not answer.

And somewhere deep inside, he knew he was being unreasonable.

Because no matter how hard he tried...He wasn’t able to forget her.

His fingers twitched.

He pushed the server away.Then pulled her back before she could go.

Because for one fleeting, shameful second...He pretended she was someone else.

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