Shattered Moon, Forbidden Hearts

Shattered Moon, Forbidden Hearts

writingdesk00

31.3k Words / Ongoing
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Introduction

His chest pressed against my boobs as his eyes seemed to search me.

“There's no logic behind it,” he explained. “Not everything has to do with logic.”

But that didn't make any sense to me.

I didn't know him as we weren't of the same kind, but how could a mate bond exist between us?

I sucked in breath, trying to ease the bond of his presence. “I don't believe that.”

He smirked. “You should.”

Then his lips got to my neck, planting a kiss that sent shivers down my spine.

The sensation that came with it was different—different from how Colt made me feel. It was like his body speaking to me even without him saying a word.

“Tristan…” I placed my hands against his chest. “I’m human, you're a werewolf… this shouldn't be between us.”

He shook his head. “But the instinct from the mate bond already said it is.”

***

I’d become lost among the decisions I had to take, and the events before me and my past haunting me wouldn't let me be.

Concerning my past?

It was the scene of my parents’ death coming fresh in my mind as an open wound coupled with the fact that I lost my memory after that. And just when I thought everything was resolved, that I'd found a new beginning, Colt broke it all.

He betrayed me. He sold me out to Alpha Tristan.

And about Tristan?

He went against using my essence to break his curse by calling me his mate. How was I supposed to be a mate to a werewolf as a human?

Things got a little subtle as tiny pieces of evidence were revealed. What if he’d been the culprit behind my parents’ death?
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writingdesk00

Chapter 1

Celine's POV

The rain hammered the roof, swallowing every other sound.

“Colt?” I called, stepping into the room.

He sat at the edge of the bed, staring at the wall like it held his sins. He didn’t even hear the door creak open.

I entered the bathroom and came out wrapped in a towel, but Colt was yet to notice my presence.

I patted his shoulder. “Lost in thoughts?”

He flinched. “Oh…”

A chuckle escaped my lips as I wrapped my arms around him. The towel slid off, exposing my body.

“You came in,” he muttered, ignoring the attention my body should have drawn from him, “and I didn't even notice.” His brows creased. “Were you sneaking on me?”

I rolled my eyes. “Hell no.”

I pinned him against the bed, and got my lips to almost touch his ears.

“It’s cold outside,” I whispered, leaning close enough for my breath to brush his ear. “And I’m all yours.”

His chest rose under mine, warm and unyielding.

“I’m becoming more like a werewolf,” I said softly. “More like you.”

He tried to let out a chuckle, but it faltered in the same instance. I heard him sigh. Our eyes met and with the faint light that came through the window, I could see the expression on his face. It was empty, had no brightness I used to see, just… damp?

My eyes trailed down his body, and I noticed his fingers were shaky.

“No one else knows you’re human,” he whispered, voice shaking. “Only me.”

A chill ran down my spine—why did he sound afraid of that truth now?

“Well, yes, but what's this look?” I touched his cheeks.

But he kept mute, like something was too heavy for him to say.

“Is it about your sick mum?”

“Hmm… yeah, of course. Her ill health is the start of all this.”

“It got worse, didn't it?” My hand fell to his chest. “We could sell maybe everything in this house… and I believe we would get that close to getting that cure.”

He shook his head. “We wouldn't have gotten close… but now…”

“What about now?” My brows furrowed.

“Now is about you.”

He got to the window, staring outside and holding the rods behind the net. Somehow, it felt as though he was watching out for something, or perhaps a person.

“How is your mum's health about me?”

“My mum needed a cure,” he said, voice breaking. “And I couldn’t afford it.”

His hands trembled against the window frame. “So I made a deal.”

Cold shivers crept up my spine.

His lips moved, but all I caught was “sorry”

“What… what did you do?”

“Get dressed.”

“Now?” I frowned. “Are we going out? Under this torrent?”

He yanked the wardrobe open, pulled out a dress I’d never wear to sleep, and dropped it on the bed.

“Just get dressed.”

I did.

“It's almost time for them to come.”

“Colt?” My voice raised slightly. “What's all this about? Who's coming…”

A violent bang shook the sitting room door.

It was past midnight, and too late for visitors.

I rushed forward, clutching the gown.

Another bang split the silence.

“Colt!” A burly werewolf stormed in, eyes burning through the dark. “Where’s the human?”

My breath stopped. Human. The word hit like a blade.

His eyes were on me, scanning my skin as he waited for Colt to answer. Sweat formed on my skin. I didn't know any human except me.

I felt his gaze grabbing me like sharp claws.

“Colt… what is…” I swallowed the lump I felt down my throat. “Did you tell…”

My heart started to beat as though to escape my chest.

“Sorry,” Colt muttered lifelessly, avoiding eye contact with me.

The room shrank around me.

I was human. And no one was supposed to know except Colt.

“She's human,” Colt' voice was low.

The two other werewolves who stood outside in the pouring rain stormed in, and before I could move, they grabbed me—one by my arms, and the other by my legs.

“Colt! Colt!” I screamed, thrashing, kicking, clawing—anything to break free.

But he didn’t move. Didn’t blink. Just watched as they dragged me into the rain.

His face had gone pale, lifeless.

“Our Alpha gave him the elixir to cure his mum.” One of the werewolves snarled, grinning as his grip bit into my arm. “And of course, selling you out was the prize he had to pay.”

“Colt, look at me!” My scream was raw.

He stepped closer to the cart the werewolves forced me into. “Celine… I had no choice.” His voice cracked. “My mother… she would’ve died.”

Each word sliced deeper than the rain.

Tears steamed down my jaws. “You… you betrayed me.”

Memories clawed at me—five years collapsing into this single moment.

The night he saved me from rogues replayed in my head, but now his face was theirs.

Or maybe this was all a dream?


Candlelight stabbed through my eyelids. The sharp scent of herbs clawed at my throat.

“Ahh.” I jerked up with a heavy breath as though heavy hands pressed me against the bed.

“Celine?” A woman’s voice pierced through the haze.

I blinked against the candlelight until her face swam into view.

Her eyes were too calm. Studying me.

She smiled, and that was a smile with too many meanings.

It sank into me, who was she?

“I'm Lila,” she said as though reading my mind.

Her fingers came to my neck, touched the necklace I'd always worn.

I yanked her hand off. “Mine…”

She just nodded. “It says a lot about your identity.”

My brows furrowed. “My… my identity…”

“Yeah, but never mind.”

“Where am I?” I tried to get my legs off the bed, but the weakness that stretched throughout my body betrayed me.

My gaze reached the door of the room, and even though the space was big enough to contain at least two hundred wolves, it still felt like a tiny prison.

“Blightmoon pack,” Lila said. “Alpha Tristan kept me in charge of you.”

“I was sold out… by Colt…” Tears threatened to escape my eyes.

Lila nodded. “Sometimes we don't have a choice.”

She poured a black substance from a jug on the table beside the bed into a mug, and passed it to me, gesturing I drank it up. The vapour sent the strong smell of herbs through my nostrils.

“This might help when the time comes.”

“Time for what?”

She sighed, shaking her head. “Sometimes, fate gives us no choice.”

My breath hitched. “What fate are you talking about? What's all these about?”

The door creaked. A shadow crossed the light—tall, deliberate, dangerous. Lila rushed to kneel before him.

His scent of rust… it completely repelled against the scent of herbs lingering in my nostrils. I hated the smell of rust, but his seemed to have a subtle kind of flavor to it, like it wasn't the smell of rust after all.

“Is she the human?” His gaze lifted from Lila to be on me.

“Yes, yes she is.” Lila's words were rushed. “Celine.”

He walked to the bed till his knee touched the frame.

“Celine,” he called.

I froze.

His voice struck like a half-remembered song—one I’d buried years ago. It clawed at the edges of my memory, dragging up things I didn’t want to see.

It clawed at my parents death.

But how was that connected to him?

His fingers came to my neck, and I rolled to the other end of the bed. “Don't…”

Just the tip of his fingers touched me, but it sent cold shivers through me like he almost made all my lost memories come to life.

I didn’t know him. I was sure of it.

So why did every part of me remember?

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