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BENEATH THE MOON'S BITE  Novel Cover

BENEATH THE MOON'S BITE

In a society built on dominance, Luca’s eighteenth birthday brings a nightmare: he is an Omega, a rank meant for submission. His only solace is Rafe, his protective best friend who has emerged as a powerful Alpha. Their connection is instant and magnetic, yet their world deems a bond between an Alpha and a male Omega a forbidden sin. As primal cravings take hold, one bite could ignite a war. Rafe has claimed him, and an Alpha never lets go.
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Chapter 12

RAFE

Everything became quiet after Kael's words, leaving us alone again. Luca stood by the bed, his back towards me, his shoulders were hunched and frail, he looked smaller than I'd ever seen him.

I shifted closer to him, I didn't know what to say, so I just put my hands on his shoulders and hugged him.

"I'm scared." he mumbled into my skin, his breath warm and shaky.

"I know." I held him tighter.

"I'm here, I got you baby."

We stood there for a long time, just holding each other in the dark, the candles were gone. The only light was a faint grey glow from a crack under the door.

Slowly, the hug changed, It wasn't just comfort anymore, it was a need. A desperate need to feel that we were real, that we were here, together.

Luca tilted his head back. In the dim light, I saw the track of a single tear down his cheek. I wiped it away with my thumb.

He kissed me.

It wasn't like last time, the last time was fire and need. This was slow. Sad. Searching. His lips were soft against mine, asking a question.

Are we still us?

I answered by kissing him back. Gently I poured every promise I couldn't say out loud into that kiss.

We moved to the bed without breaking apart. It was a slow, quiet move. We helped each other out of our clothes, our hands fumbling but careful. There was no rush. No frenzy.

When we were both naked, we lay down facing each other on the furs. I traced the line of his jaw, his collarbone with a light-feather kiss.

"Talk to me." I whispered.

He shook his head, his eyes glistening. "I don't have any good words right now."

"Then don't talk."

I kissed him again, I kissed his eyelids, his temples, the corner of his mouth. He shuddered, his hands coming up to tangle in my hair.

I loved him with my mouth, slow and thorough, until he was gasping, his back arching off the bed.

His pleasure was a bright, warm wave through the bond, cutting through the cold fear for a moment.

When he came back down, breathing hard, he pulled me up to him. He wrapped his legs around my hips, guiding me to him. Our eyes locked.

"Look at me," he breathed. "The whole time."

I lifted him over slowly upon my chest, and lined my cock, behind his rectum, slowly I pushed inside him, we both gasped.

It felt different. Deeper. It wasn't just our bodies. It was our souls touching in that dark, sacred place.

I moved, a slow, rocking rhythm that had him clutching at my back. His face was so close to mine. I could see every flicker of feeling in his eyes.

"You're real." he whispered, his voice cracking. "You feel so real."

A knot tightened in my throat. I couldn't speak. I just kissed him, swallowing his words, his breath, his fear.

We moved together slowly, there were no loud cries. Just broken breaths and whispers against sweat-slick skin.

"I won't let them take you." I promised into the hollow of his shoulder.

"I don't care what I am." he gasped, his nails pressing into my skin.

"As long as I'm yours."

"Always."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

The pleasure built slowly, a heavy pressure that wasn't just physical. It was the weight of everything we were fighting, turning into heat between us.

The bond was a conduit, carrying his trust, my devotion, our shared terror, mixing it all together until we couldn't tell where one ended and the other began.

When we finally fell over the edge, it was quiet. A trembling release that felt more like relief than triumph.

I held him through it, and he held me, and for a few perfect seconds, there was no Caleb, no Goddess, no prophecy. Just us, tangled together in sweet pleasure.

We lay like that for a long time, catching our breath, his head was on my chest, my arm around him. Our hearts beat against each other, slowly returning to normal.

The fear started to creep back in. The reality of the stone walls, of Kael's words.

Luca's finger traced a lazy circle on my chest, right over the bond. "What are you thinking about?" he murmured.

I stared up at the dark ceiling. The secret I'd been holding felt like a poison stone in my chest, he'd just given me everything, his trust, his body, his scared heart. He deserved my truth, even if it broke us.

"Luca." I said, my voice sounding strange in the dark.

"Hmm?"

I took a deep breath. The words were the hardest I'd ever had to say.

"My power," I began, the confession ripping out of me. "It feels like a lie."

His tracing finger stopped. He went very still.

"What do you mean?" he asked, carefully.

"Everything Caleb said. About me being... made." I forced myself to say it. "It's true. I feel it. When I use my Alpha strength, it doesn't feel like it comes from here." I tapped my own chest.

"It feels borrowed, like I'm wearing someone else's skin."

He was silent for so long I thought maybe he'd fallen asleep. Or that he was too disgusted to speak.

Then he pushed himself up on one elbow. He looked down at me. In the near-darkness, his eyes were serious.

"Does it feel like a lie," he asked softly, "when you hold me?"

"No." The answer was immediate. "That's the only thing that feels completely real."

A small, sad smile touched his lips. He leaned down and kissed me, slow and sweet.

"Then that's the only power that matters," he whispered against my lips.

He laid his head back down. I held him, my mind reeling. He hadn't pulled away. He hadn't screamed. He'd just... accepted it.

The relief was so profound it made my eyes sting.

Maybe, just maybe, we could lie together and make something true.

Just as that thought settled, a sound sliced through the quiet a long, mournful howl from somewhere deep in the mountain.

It wasn't a rogue, it was a sound of pure, ancient grief. And it was followed by a single, clear voice that seemed to come from the stones themselves.

The voice, cold and echoing, spoke only three words that seeped into our room,

"The Seer wakes."

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