The Unloved Luna

Charisse's POV

Grrrrrrrr. 'Shift, I could open it for you,' says my wolf.

I keep pulling the bag of chips but never open it. I hand the bag to Brad and watch as he easily unlocks it. "Try to finish this," he adds as he leads me to the game room, where Xavier awaits us.

They pushed me to eat something earlier and are now attempting to persuade me to snack. While sitting on the couch, Brad laughs, "You're about to see me kick Xavier's ass at Halo."

I was ready to do the same thing as my brother and sit next to him, but Xavier let out a low growl and pulled me towards him instead. "Eat," he grumbles, sitting crisscross with his legs on the outside of mine.

I curl up against him, looking up at him, and insert the smallest potato chip I can find in my lips. It feels good to be fed and cared for, finally. Xavier and Brad have yet to hit me; all I have to do is do as they say and hope they don't turn out to be like the men in the Blue Stone Pack.

Xavier's arms are squarely in front of me, clutching the X-Box controller and wrapping his arms around my body. Looking up, I notice his lips are slightly apart, and his tongue protrudes slightly. 'Does that imply he desires a chip?'My wolf inquires.

I grab a potato chip from the medium-sized bag and place it in his mouth. "Why'd you do that?" he wonders as he chews on the chip. Was that anything I should have done?

"Y-your tongue was sticking out," I say quietly.

I watch him and Brad play for a bit, occasionally nibbling on a potato chip. "You barely ate."

"I'm not hungry."

He and Brad exchange glances but don't say anything else. I'm quite aware I'm underweight and have been trying to eat. It's only that I've gone years without eating and been considered overweight.

Brad inquires, "Charisse, do you have any hobbies?"

I sigh.

"Favourite color?"

I sigh.

"You don't talk much, do you?"

As I shake my head, Xavier laughs. "You two are opposites, and I wish Brad would stop talking."

I shift my weight and wrap my arms around myself. It's quite cold. The sleeves on the shirt Xavier allowed me to wear practically reach my elbows, and the boxers extend past mid-thigh. It's still freezing outside.

For warmth, I lean back and put my head against Xavier. It was quite cold. "Are you OK, baby? You're trembling."

"Y-yeah." I stammer. He pauses the game and grabs a lovely blanket to put around me.

"Thank you," I respond, extending one foot.

Brad laughs, "You're still the same." "You always slept with one foot outside of the blanket."

"How tall are you?" I inquire at random.

"I'm 6'0," he says.

"You're tall."

"I'm 6'1," Xavier exclaims.

"And you're a little taller."

"That's what I was thinking," he mumbles, tenderly caressing my cheek. I burst out laughing.

"No!" Brad yells, hurling a pillow at Xavier. He does, however, take care to shoot away from me. "No PDA. No lips on lips or lips on anything in front of me!"

He shakes as he says, "Nasty."

When Brad notices me laughing, he teases, "Ha, Charisse thinks I'm funnier than you."

"No, she doesn't," Xavier says flatly.

"Then explain to her that she stopped laughing when you started talking."

All eyes are now on me. "Charisse, why'd the chicken cross the road?" Xavier inquires.

"To get t-"

"To get to the other side!" he exclaims, tickling my sides and making me laugh. Because of my ailments, laughing hurts, but I can tolerate it. The whip marks on my back are already numb.

He ends his assault on my skin with one last laugh, "Ha." 'I like it,' says my wolf.

'Me, too.' I concur. While cleaning, I noticed people hanging out at Red Stone, but I was never one of them. It feels good.

I also appreciate how Xavier allows me to spend time with my brother. Often, Alphas are overly protective of their mate and forbid any men from approaching her. Brad rushes up from the ground, placing the controller and his hands under the blanket and around my waist.

"Hands above the blanket, Ryan!" he exclaims as he points at us. I clutch my palms and shrink even further against Xavier. My brother's yelling is frightening me.

When Xavier returns his arms to their original position above the blanket, he says, "That's better." My wolf laments the loss of contact but does nothing about it.

"So, when do you want to go shopping?" asks Xavier.

My puzzled expression tells him I don't know what he's talking about. "For clothes, we could go to the mall and fill up half of the closet."

I explain, "I don't have any money."

"I'm paying." I don't like the idea of someone wasting their hard-earned money on me. I'm fine with old clothes; that's why we have washing machines, right?

"How many clothes did you have before?" Brad inquires.

"From the pack ladies; they had small clothes in storage and gave them to me when Alpha wasn't looking," I explain.

"I swear I will find and kill your old Alpha."

"You need to tell me the name of your old pack," Xavier continues, but I shake my head fiercely.

"Why not?" "They shouldn't get away with abusing you!"

Xavier's POV

Charisse says quietly, "I don't want anyone to get hurt." Her former pack mistreated and malnourished her, and she didn't want them to suffer.

I can tell she's compassionate and caring, but it doesn't mean she has to look after her old pack. "You realize I'll find out who they are sooner or later, right?" I want her to know that they'll receive what they deserve no matter what.

She nods, tightening the blanket around her. "When do you get your cast off?" Brad inquires, abruptly changing the subject.

"Three weeks for the boot, five weeks for the rest," I explain. Charisse was fast asleep when Dr. James told her how long she had to wear them. We're expected to return to the hospital in a week to get her stitches removed.

She heals slower than the usual wolf, almost human-like, but her wolf powers are gradually improving with me nearby. "You want anything to drink, sweetheart?" I am still waiting for a response.

Brad says, "She's sleeping."

"Did you review the patrol plans yesterday?"

"Yeah, I added three more wolves to sector seven to improve communications."

"Anything else happens?"

"We've got two rogues in here," he says.

"How come they aren't dead?" Rogues are usually dealt with swiftly. Only enter Lunar Blood land if they intend to fight.

Brad says, "They said they came to get someone."

"Who?"

"I don't know, but we could conduct some interrogation tomorrow."

"I'll do the interrogation, and you'll stay with Charisse," I say. I want to be at her side, but if I don't let out my rage, I might take it out on the house--there's no way I'd hurt my friend, but I don't want her to be any more terrified of me than she already is.

She should be terrified of me.

"Shit. I have to cancel the search team," Brad says as he struggles to stand up. He bolts from the house, slamming the door behind him.

What should I do now? I would be alone on a typical day, watching TV or assisting the search team with Brad. Now that my friend is beside me, I have nothing to do.

I reach my feet and carry her bridal gown into our room to place her on the bed. She mumbles something about surfing on potato chips as I open the door. Despite the strange occurrences in her dream, she appears to be experiencing a dreadful dream.

"Charisse," I murmur, attempting to rouse her. She's supposed to sleep a lot, but I don't want her to have nightmares when she does.

"Hmm?" she asks as he gradually opens her eyes.

"You had a bad dream again."

"Oh."

"Are you hungry?" I inquire, even though I already know the answer. She sighs and shakes her head.

"Do you want anything?" she asks, which surprises me.

"What?"

"If you're hungry, I can cook something," she offers, looking at me in the eyes.

"No, it's fine," I say dismissively. Charisse shouldn't be doing anything right now; she shouldn't be working at all.

"Are you sure?" she asks. "I could bake you cookies or a cake." She sits up straight and leans on me like the mate bond is working on her.

"I'm perfectly fine."

I keep my gaze fixed on her while she fiddles with my hand. She appears to be innocent, but the black bruise beneath her eye, cut on her lip, and damaged jaw indicates that she has endured a lot of blows. Scars covered her skin when I first met her.

Most people believe that shifters do not have them, although nearly everyone has at least one. Charisse has much more than usual; nonetheless, they will heal with time.