The Unloved Luna

Scars fade and disappear when friends meet; my parents informed me when I was younger. "Are you cold?" I inquire.

She sighs and shakes her head. How can I start a conversation if she doesn't respond verbally? "Do you want to go shopping tomorrow or the day after tomorrow?"

She sighs. Is she frightened to speak up? She's happier and more open when we're simply messing about, but when we talk about her needs and herself, she's quieter than usual.

"I need to do some office work; do you want to stay here or come with me?" I inquire.

"Can I come with you?"

I take her back in my arms and head to the office. This room was once a bedroom, but I made some changes. I should work at home rather than at the pack house or elsewhere. Charisse breaks the stillness by asking, "How long do you work every day?"

'HECK YEAH!!!' SHE BEGAN THE CONVERSATION!!!!'My wolf applauds.

"Three to six hours, depending on the day," I say, "and I do the papers a few weeks ahead." All I did for the first few months of being Alpha was paperwork to get ahead; now, I'm almost two months ahead in paperwork.

"Xavier," I like how my name sounds in her tongue. "Your telephone is ringing."

"Who is it?" She asks, picking up my phone and reading the caller ID's name.

"It's Brad." He was just here; why disturb my friend and me?

"Ignore it," I say, wishing my phone still had a decline option.

"What if it's really important?"

"He wouldn't mind if you linked me if it's important."

"Brad called and left a message."

"Ignore it."

"He's been texting you... a lot."

"Ignore it." I go over and turn off the ringer. Should I mute the whole thing?

"Won't he get mad if you don't answer?" Charisse's expression tells me she's terrified of what will happen if I don't answer the phone.

I hold the phone between us, pressing the answer button and putting it on the speaker. "Wow, I didn't expect you to respond," Brad exclaims.

"Yeah, yeah, what exactly do you want?"

"I'm not sure," he would say, shrugging.

"Is Charisse awake?" he inquires.

"Yeah... Wait, never mind," she said before falling asleep again.

"What brought you here?"

"The team was wondering when they'd finally see Charisse again." Because the search team mostly comprised people who knew her when she was younger, they spent a lot of time looking.

"Probably at the ceremony or when I get them to be guards."

"OK," he responds before hanging up the phone. Sometimes, I am not by Charisse's side, but she will still be protected somehow. Brad will undoubtedly be my first contact for the assignment, but I shall enlist my father's or Gamma's help if he is also unavailable.

My mother will try to go shopping or do anything with my friend, and neither my father nor I will let them go alone. He will even dispatch guards to lurk from a distance when he feels the need. 'Send guards and trackers,' urges my wolf.

Trackers?

'To track down anyone who attempts to flirt with my mate,' he explains.

Excellent thought.

Should I ask my mother to accompany Charisse shopping? Of course, I'll attend, but I'm not familiar with feminine stuff--but my mother will give me a big lecture about not telling her that I've found my mate.

Should I contact her straight away? Should I call my father instead? 'Or we could nap,' my wolf says.

He has the most brilliant ideas.

After closing my laptop and putting up my documents, I lay down on the couch. Charisse is now lying beside me and in my arms, so I move her. Fortunately, the blanket is long enough to cover my body; not every blanket does.

When Charisse curls up to my side, I close my eyes and smile as I fall asleep.

*** (After one nap)

Click.

Click.

Click.

CLICK, CLICK, CLICK, CLICK.

"What the hell is that?" I mutter as I open my eyes.

"Xavier! Watch your language!" My mother warns as she puts her phone away. Was she photographing anything?

"What's going on?" Charisse asks, waking up and emerging from beneath the blanket.

"Charisse, this is my mother; Mom, this is my mate, Charisse," I say.

Charisse sits up and says, "Hi."

Mom gasps, "Oh my goddess!" and pulls her in for a hug. "I've been waiting to meet you!"

She gives me a sneer before releasing her embrace on my mate. "What did I do?!?" I exclaim, clutching my companion close.

"You were supposed to tell me when you found your soulmate."

"I didn't have enough time-"

"Yes, you did," she says, cutting me short.

"Mo-."

"I don't want to hear about it."

"It's not even my fault-"

She sobs, "You don't even love me!" Oh no. She's sobbing.

Charisse furrows her brows and murmurs, "Xavier, you made your mum cry." She turns away from me and embraces my mother. I did nothing!

"Uh... Mom?" I'm at a loss for words.

"Can you get me a tissue?" she says, her eyes welling up.

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

"If you loved me, you would have some!" She holds Charisse and sobs even more.

"Do you want some toilet paper?"

More sobbing.

I get up and dash to the loo. Dad would murder me if he found out I made my mother weep.

Charisse's POV

"Are you OK, Mrs. Ryan?" I asked, massaging her back. I don't remember having parents, but I know you're not meant to make those who reared you cry.

"Oh darling, I'm fine," she says, sitting up straight as if nothing had occurred. She giggles as she wipes her face with tissues from her purse.

"I was faking it so that Xavier would leave the room."

"By the way, my name is Eva," she says.

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

"That's the same thing Brad said."

"It's not a bad thing, honey. He and Xavier could learn a thing or two from you; all they do is talk." she chuckles.

"Won't Xavier be back soon?" I inquire. Perhaps he needed help.

"No, I hid all the toilet paper and towels while you two slept."

"Really?"

Eva shows me her phone and says, "I also drew a mustache on a picture I took of him." It shows Xavier asleep with a bright green mustache and unibrow.

"Enough chit-chat. Have you two kissed yet?" she asks directly.

I slowly nodded.

"Well, then, tell me about it!"

"Xavier kissed me on the first day I woke up." I begin. "I got scared when we were talking about being mates, and then he just leaned forward."

"Have you done anything else?"

"Last night, we slept in the same bed," I say. Eva's expression tells me she wants to hear more.

"I tried to see if he's ticklish."

"I meant if he does anything romantic." she chuckles.

Oh.

I shrug. "He just holds me a lot."

"Mom, I couldn't believe you weren't crying," Xavier says as he walks into the room.

"Were you faking?" he inquires.

"Yes, now what's that?" Xavier asks, his right hand clutching both crutches and his left bottle.

"Charisse's crutches and medication." Didn't I take my medications already? Is there anything else I should bring?

He informs me, "It's for your back, sweetheart."

"Oh, I'll put it on for you then," Eva replies as she stands up. She takes Xavier's bottle and crutches and assists me in getting used to them.

"Mom, I was going to do it."

"Well, I am. Charisse and I will have some girl time, and besides, you have work to do."

Xavier gasps and swiftly crushes his lips against mine before retrieving his papers. Eva wraps her arm around me to support my weight; unfortunately, I can't even walk independently with crutches.

Eva reads, "It says to wear sanitary gloves when applying and to massage the product into wounds lightly."

"Will it hurt?" I inquire, concerned about the cream's potential for burning.

"Just a little bit. Can you lift your shirt for me?" I hesitantly turn away from Eva and lift my shirt, exposing my back.

As she gasps, tears well up in my eyes. "Oh, my goddess," she exhales as she examines my scars and sutures.

"Who did this to you?" she speculates.

"My old rucksack."

"I'm so sorry," she says, pulling me in for another hug. "You don't deserve to be hurt like this."

She takes care not to put any pressure on my back this time. Long whip wounds, medium knife cuts, and bruises cover my skin--it's just one of the reasons I dislike my appearance.

Aside from the fact that my eyes don't sparkle like everyone else's and my hair isn't soft like everyone else's, my will to live has vanished. Maybe it was Alpha James' torture that made me like this, or maybe it was the misery I put on myself.