For a mont, they just existed, no one said a word, breathed too loudly, or moved. And then, after what seed like an eternity, Reana broke the silence. "Do you know the hardest part of being a leader?"
A gleam flashed in Ryder’s eyes. "Perhaps...?" he continued, "But I’d love to hear your complaints, My Luna."
"Complaints?" Reana chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against Ryder’s shoulder.
There was sothing about the way he said it that made it sound like a mother half-heartedly listening to their nagging child complaining bitterly about their cookie not looking as round as it should.
But she continued anyway. Perhaps it was because of his age, or because they shared secrets, Reana found herself willing to open up more about her struggles.
"It’s about making everyone see things your way without needing to resort to violence," she continued. "It’s about finding a balance between strength and compassion, between assertiveness and empathy. It’s about being a leader who inspires loyalty and devotion, without being a dictator."
Ryder’s lips curled into a doting smile, his hand reaching for her hair as he slowly began to massage her head. "You’re a natural leader, My Love," he said, his voice filled with conviction. "You have a way of commanding respect without demanding it. Your pack loves and respects you, not just because of your title, but because of who you are."
A conflicting look flickered in her eyes. "Perhaps, not anymore."
"Why do you think so?"
Reana sighed deeply, her hands circling his waist as she breathed in the scent of the flowers. "I don’t know. My instincts tell they’d betray so day."
Imagine Thomas blaming her for Xavier’s death, as if she was responsible for his actions. Her stepfamily repeatedly tried to kill or sabotage her.
Reana may not have shown or admitted it, but she got scared sotis. She was scared of an unexpected attack and the inability to retaliate or save herself and those she cared about.
She could see others’ futures but couldn’t see hers. Even her master couldn’t see her future. However, on her deathbed, the woman held her hand, her old, tired eyes shed tears for the first ti since Reana knew her.
’I can... I can sense it. Your path is that of a queen, but one fraught with danger, betrayal, tears, and uncertainty. What you see and what you believe may not be entirely true. What you long for may not be yours to keep. Follow your instincts, live by what your heart tells you. Trust no one. child.’
Ryder’s voice cut through her reverie. "Betrayal is a natural part of power, isn’t it?" he said, his voice low and thoughtful.
Reana sighed again, her gaze drifting towards the flowers. She had seen it ti and ti again - the powerful being brought down by those they trusted. It was a harsh reality, one that she feared.
Ryder’s arms wrapped around her, holding her close. "But that doesn’t an I’ll let you face it under my watch."
She lifted her head and they locked eyes. "What? What do you plan on doing? You’re not thinking of killing anyone, are you?" her brow raised.
Ryder chuckled, then burst into a fit of laughter. "Co on, My Luna, I’m not a psychopath."
Reana rolled her eyes. Yeah. Not a psychopath indeed.
While the two found peace in the garden, basking in the morning sun, the subject of chaos was fidgeting as she made her way to Detroit’s dwelling place.
She’d heard the ’dramatic stunt’ Detroit pulled earlier, thanks to her fellow ogas teasing her. And now, Mirian’s scalp was tingling, unsure of how to face him.
Arriving at the courtyard, she stood there, biting her lips – fist clenching and unclenching. Then, after what seed like forever, she gave up resisting and walked forward with the basket she was carrying.
Knock!
Her knuckles barely made a sound on the door when it flew open and before Mirian could even process what was happening, she was yanked inside. Just as the door shut behind her, hungry lips crashed down on hers.
Mirian’s eyes widened in surprise as Detroit’s lips claid hers, the intensity of the kiss taking her breath away. For a mont, she was frozen, unsure of how to react. But as the heat of the mont washed over her, she found herself lting into the kiss, her lips responding to the pressure of his.
The basket she had been holding fell to the floor, forgotten in the chaos of the mont.
Detroit’s arms wrapped around her, pulling her close as he deepened the kiss, his tongue tangling with hers in a dance that left her dizzy and wanting more.
Mirian’s hands rose to his chest, her fingers curling into his shirt as she struggled to keep up with the pace of the kiss. She felt like she was drowning in the intensity of it all, but she couldn’t help but want more.
As the kiss finally broke, Mirian gasped for air, her eyes locking onto Detroit’s. The intensity in his gaze made her breath hitch in her throat.
He looked angry.
Mirian’s heart shuddered with guilt and remorse.
"D– Detroit, I..." she stuttered, her voice trailing off, unable to find the right words to apologize.
"Why did you betray , Mirian?" Detroit’s voice was low and rough, his eyes filled with hurt.
Mirian’s heart sank as she realized the depth of his pain, and she knew she had to explain herself, to make him understand.
But what excuse could she possibly give? Except a useless one.
"Detroit, I... I didn’t an to hurt you," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "I tried to resist the pull but I couldn’t."
Detroit’s gaze narrowed, "A pull? Does that an you like him too?"
Mirian lowered her gaze, biting her lips and fidgeting with her fingers like a child caught stealing.
"I’m sorry," her voice was low, an inaudible whisper.
Detroit clenched his fist. He was angry. His heart was filled with fury, but his anger wasn’t directed at Mirian. No. It was directed at the bastard who saw his claim on her and tore it off.
His gaze raked her appearance. He saw no changes...until his eyes stopped on her neck.
A mark.
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