I Am Not Your Ordinary Luna, I Am The Rebel Queen

“What?!” I snapped, taking several steps back. “Are you fucking kidding me? Why would I undress him?”

Hunter didn’t look offended.

He looked entertained.

A slow, dangerous chuckle rumbled from his chest as he watched me retreat like a cornered kitten. “Because,” he said calmly, “he is your husband. I’m asking you to undress him—not fuck him.”

My jaw tightened as I listened to him.

“He’s drunk,” Hunter continued, voice lowering as he stepped closer. “He can barely stand, let alone do anything scandalous. I just need that vomit-soaked mess off him before the smell makes me the next casualty. I'm just asking for your help because let's be honest, undressing another man is disgusting.”

I wrinkled my nose despite myself. He has a point, though.

“But,” he added, eyes glinting, “there is a faster way to get rid of that scent.”

I narrowed my eyes. “And what would that be?”

He didn’t answer immediately.

Instead, he moved.

One step.

I instinctively stepped back.

Another step.

My back hit the cold railing of the staircase.

Before I could shift away, his hand slid to the small of my back, steady and firm. Heat seeped through the thin towel like it wasn’t even there. My breath hitched—

And then his mouth was at my neck.

Not rough.

Not claiming.

Just… deliberate.

His lips brushed the sensitive curve beneath my ear, and his warm breath fanned across my skin before he whispered, “Your scent.”

A shiver exploded down my spine.

“You could drown out his stench without lifting a finger,” he murmured, inhaling slowly. “If you spend the night in my bed.”

My pulse stuttered.

I shoved him hard in the chest. “That’s never going to happen! Just because I married the four of you doesn’t mean I’m sleeping with you!”

He didn’t look angry.

He laughed.

The audacity.

“I was just teasing,” he said, eyes still heated. “But be careful saying that out loud. The mating ritual isn’t something you can out-stubborn.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” I demanded.

He leaned closer again, but this time he didn’t touch me.

“When it starts pulling at you,” he said softly, voice turning velvet-dark, “I’ll be in my room, waiting… I’ll be happy to help you out.”

My stomach flipped traitorously because I already have an idea what he meant.

“Come on,” he said lightly, as if he hadn’t just set my nerves on fire. “If you’re not sharing my bed, at least help me clean him.”

I huffed but didn’t argue.

“Fine. Let’s get his clothes off before you carry him. They’re soaked. Disgusting. What did he even drink? Acid?” I muttered, already tugging at Viggo’s shirt.

Hunter laughed again. “I’ll follow your lead, Luna.”

The title sent a strange ripple through me. Right… I’m not just this Kingdom’s lost princess, I am also now their Luna.

We stripped the ruined fabric away, and once Viggo was down to his briefs, Hunter scooped him up effortlessly. The display of strength did something to my pulse I refused to analyze.

I opened the ensuite bathroom—empty tub.

“Wait,” I said quickly. “Let’s use mine instead. It’s already prepared. The water should still be warm.”

His brows lifted slightly, but he didn’t argue.

He followed me to my room.

The air shifted the moment we stepped inside.

My bathtub was filled with steaming water, petals floating lazily across the surface. A bath meant for seduction… not sanitation.

Hunter gently lowered Viggo into the tub.

“I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “I need to rinse his sins off me, too. You should never let him get that drunk ever again.”

That made me laugh before I could stop myself. “Go. Come back when you’re done and help me move him to his bed.”

He gave me a look that promised something very indecent later… and left.

I swallowed and turned back to Viggo.

He was completely out of it.

I grabbed the scrunchie, poured gel soap onto it, and began scrubbing his chest. He didn’t stir. Warm water slid over muscle and skin, and I focused very hard on the task.

Professional. Detached. Efficient.

When I finished his body, the foul scent lingered.

I leaned closer and sniffed his hair.

“Bingo.”

“What did you even do tonight to end up like this?” I muttered as I pulled the drain and poured shampoo into his hair.

That’s when he moved.

I froze.

He mumbled something incoherent… and then, still half-asleep, his hands drifted downward.

My eyes widened.

“No—wait—”

Too late.

He pushed his briefs down his hips and kicked them away lazily, still dreaming.

The world slowed.

I should have looked away.

I didn’t.

My breath caught as my gaze locked onto what he’d revealed.

Heat flooded my face.

My throat went dry.

And then—

He hardened.

Right in front of me.

My heart slammed against my ribs.

“Mine is bigger than that.”

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

Hunter’s voice.

I shot upright so fast my towel snagged on the shampoo pump, yanking it loose. The towel slipped, pooling at my feet.

“Fuck!” I grabbed it instantly, wrapping it back around myself as Hunter’s low laughter filled the room.

He leaned against the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel slung dangerously low on his hips. His hair was damp, droplets trailing down his chest, disappearing beneath the fabric.

He looked like sin given human form.

“Why are you not dressed?!” I demanded.

He raised a brow. “Says the woman who just flashed me.”

“It was an accident!”

His gaze dipped slowly. “Was that an accident, too?” He nodded toward Viggo.

I glared. “He’s dreaming! I was washing his hair!”

Hunter pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer.

Too close.

“I can’t dress,” he said calmly. “There are no clothes. Not in my room. Not in theirs.”

I blinked. “What?”

“I think,” he said, voice lowering, “they assumed we wouldn’t need them.”

My stomach tightened, but I ignored it.

I turned back to rinse Viggo’s hair, refusing to look down again. “Hand me that towel.”

Hunter picked it up and held it out.

Our fingers brushed.

The contact wasn’t static.

It was a wildfire.

Electric heat shot up my arm, into my chest, spiraling downward into my belly, and then further down between my legs in a molten rush that made my knees weak.

I jerked my hand back sharply.

Hunter’s eyes darkened.

“Felt that?” he murmured.

My pulse throbbed in my ears.

“The full moon is peaking,” he continued softly. “The ritual is waking up.”

I didn’t fully understand what he meant.

But my body did.

Warmth pooled low in my belly, thick and dangerous.

“Let’s move him,” Hunter said quietly, gaze lingering on me in a way that made my skin prickle. “Before he wakes up.”

I swallowed and nodded, wiping Viggo dry as quickly as possible—very deliberately keeping my eyes above his waist.

But I could still feel Hunter’s gaze on me.

Heavy.

Hungry.

Patient.

I wasn’t entirely sure if I wanted to run or to let this growing feeling inside consume me completely.