His Shadow Luna

Chapter 5

Forrest's helicopter sliced through the sky, a dark silhouette against the sun setting over the South. His jaw ticked each time he thought of the Firstborn assassins. Not only did he save them after their previous Master's death, but he also gave them a new life and purpose in serving the Republic. He fought for them at the latest Alpha Convocation. This was how they repaid him — obeying someone else's orders the moment his back was turned.

As the aircraft touched down next to the Cathedral, the heart of the Southern Intelligence, the roar of the rotors did little to drown out the chaotic tumult of betrayal and fury swirling inside him.

Ximena was already waiting for him by the main entrance, the witch's delicious full figure wrapped in a tight, sleek leather dress that celebrated every curve. The stark black of her outfit provided a stunning contrast to her warm, olive-toned skin, complementing the chestnut brown hair which tumbled in luscious waves over her shoulders to her waist. Her full lips curved when she saw him, but the smile faded when she read his facial expression.

"They're back, General. Mission accomplished," she reported, not adding anything else to it. She knew how to handle him and how to stay in his good graces as well.

Forrest narrowed his eyes. "Who the f**k did it?"

Ximena hesitated, weighing his mood and her possible responses.

"My understanding is that it was the Alpha Convocation's decision. They are the only ones who can overrule you. We had to send the best team."

"Really, Ximena? Did you really have to?" he snapped, and the woman pursed her lips.

"It's your reputation at stake," she pointed out, causing him to growl and walk away from her.

"You played into Cyrus's trap. Don't forget that his political campaign is built on the need for war. I am the one who pushes for peace. Only one of us can win and become the next High Chancellor. Now, when it comes out that my men murdered Princess Elene—"

Just the thought of the Princess made his heart clench painfully. He did not know why that struck him that hard.

"No one knows they were your men!" she argued.

"There are ways for people to find out and also—" He cut himself short because he wasn't in the mood to explain the simplest thing to his supposed right hand.

"There will be no trace of that," Ximena tried to reassure him.

"There is always a trace, Xi," he retorted, speeding up and ignoring that she couldn't keep up with him in her tight dress and heels.

People rose to their feet and lowered their heads in respect as he made his way through the building, projecting his fury as he passed. When he emerged in the inner courtyard, a quiet stillness greeted him as lines of warriors waited in perfect formation.

"The 11th division of the Firstborn army declares the mission successfully completed." Dex Solis, the commander of said division, was the only one who dared greet him. His voice betrayed no hint of remorse or doubt, which only annoyed Forrest more.

The General studied him with a cold detachment, contemplating snapping his neck right there to teach everyone a lesson when he felt a strange pull. The sensation was so overwhelming that he stumbled, pausing for the briefest of moments, looking at the lines of people wearing black.

His footsteps faltered, a sudden heaviness to his breath as the air around him became thick with a scent that he couldn't quite name yet found utterly intoxicating.

His heightened lycan senses had his ears straining for a sound that his mind had yet to comprehend, and his heart pounded out a rhythm he didn't recognise.

The air quivered with a silent, electric charge as if the earth itself acknowledged the sacred connection.

He wasn't alone anymore.

At the same time, a burning sensation in his pocket distracted him from the unexpected bliss. Forrest pulled out the protective amulet Ximena had given him a while ago. The metal almost scorched his fingers, and he dropped it, watching it roll down the stones until it hit an assassin's boot.

Annoyed, he was about to pick it up, knowing that Ximena would get angry if he did not appreciate her present when a wave of strong and fresh realisation pierced him.

Mate! Hades, his wolf, growled inside his mind. Forrest could barely suppress the desire to echo the sound out loud.

He couldn't believe it was happening. It made no sense. He had already met everyone here before. How could one of the Firstborn be his fated one?

Their eyes locked, and he noticed that his mate's face was bleeding, most of it covered by a dirty red scarf. She looked like she had been through a lot.

His instincts kicked in. She needed a healer, and he needed to see who she was. Everything else had to wait.

Her eyes were already so familiar. For a brief moment, he felt utterly ensnared by the striking blue of her irises, a colour reminiscent of the cold, clear Northern lakes he had seen once. Only one other person he met had eyes like that…

Forrest furrowed his brows and noticed how the woman in front of him sunk her head in her shoulders ever so slightly it was barely noticeable.

She was afraid of him.

Not thinking twice, he stretched his arm and moved the scarf down, making her whole face visible to him.

Mate! Hades repeated, going crazy in his mind. So crazy that Forrest had to use all his inner strength to lock him out.

His lips twitched as a range of emotions stormed through him.

She was barely recognisable because of her deep wounds; her hair was soaked in blood and clinging to her dust-covered cheeks. Three deep cuts went through one of her eyes, making it swollen and slightly deformed. Forrest cringed at the thought of what had been done to her.

Elene Fionnlagh. The Princess of the North, who was now presumed dead by his country, not only had she managed to survive, but she had secretly joined the very people sent to kill her and used them for a ride, while none of them noticed.

She was remarkable, but everything depended on him now. Just one word of his could kill his mate, and they both knew it.

"That's Aconite, sir," Amir, his number one ranking soldier, informed him. "She just arrived and had to fight one of the Northern warriors. Obviously, she won. Her shadow-wielding power is impressive."

"Impressive?" Forrest did his best to arch his brow questioningly. "She looks like she went through a meat-grinder!"

Issa Devero, his second best, smirked at the words, which made him angry.

Our mate needs help, Hades insisted, trying to get through the barrier Forrest built. Do something!

This wasn't helping. He needed his critical thinking to come up with what to do next.

The way she glared at him through glistening eyes was the hardest, though. That accusatory look full of pain and betrayal stabbed his heart like a knife.

Then again, he had met her before, too. And they even took a trip to the skies of Solace together, where they should have felt the bond if they were true mates. Could this be a trick?

Trick? Hades roared. You dumbass, our mate is bleeding! And THAT is what you are thinking about? I swear to Selene, the Moon Goddess, that if you don't save her now, I'll jump off a cliff the next time you shift, you t**t.

"Forrest, you lost it!" Ximena rushed his way, and he instinctively threw the scarf back over Elene's face, somehow only making her angrier. She clenched her fists so tight, he was afraid she would pounce at him and give herself away.

In the meantime, the witch retrieved the medallion she presented him with a while ago.

Elene's eyes snapped at the woman, a little growl escaping her. A growl that brought him more satisfaction than all the s*x he’d enjoyed in the past month or two.

He was officially screwed.

"Forrest!" Ximena called again, and he finally looked at her, barely out of his daze. "Where is the chain?"

"Here." He took it out of his pocket and handed it to the witch, who quickly placed the medallion back in its rightful place.

"All done!" Ximena wrapped her arms around his neck. "Allow me."

She was fixing it for all eternity; all the while, Elene stared straight into his eyes. Moon Goddess, she probably hated him.

He tapped the witch's elbow to hurry up, and she obeyed, noticing who he was staring at. Her lips parted before quickly clasping it back into place.

However, what shocked him the most was that all of a sudden, all the feelings and sensations he felt towards Elene just a second ago were done. As if… by magic.

His gaze shifted to the witch next to him, who nervously glanced at her present on his neck.

They’d had an agreement for many years. When one of them needed a release, the other was happy to provide it. No strings attached. No feelings. Pure cooperation at work and primal s*x.

Or so he thought.

On the other hand, what if it was Elene? Didn't they just say she had some kind of magic? The Princess fought at the Battle of Avalanche. She could have had a gift that inclined him to feel those things… And what if Ximena's medallion protected him just like she promised, and that was why he didn't feel the pull anymore?

I know what I felt, Hades insisted. There are no mistakes.

We'll deal with this later. We need the Princess alive and well anyway, Forrest assured him. It's great to have a cold head and not to be distracted by the mate bond though. At least I can think clearly now.

The silence in the courtyard stretched, a taut string ready to snap. Forrest could feel every eye on him, every breath held in anticipation of his command.

"Drop your bags and give me fifty laps on the training field," he declared, his voice resonating with authority. "Ximena will stay and control the process. Make it rain while you are at it, Xi."

A wave of stunned whispers rippled through the yard.

Only the witch acted as if she wasn't surprised.

"Oh, I can see it in your eyes," Forrest placed his hands in his pockets and strolled back along the line. "You are asking yourselves, why is he punishing us for a successful mission instead of rewarding you? When I accepted you and gave you a new purpose, I was perfectly clear about you following my commands and my commands only. The mission that was ordered — it didn't come from me, and yet you all obliged!"

He took a meaningful pause and then allowed his lips to stretch into a smirk.

"Which means you broke my order in the first place," he finished, noticing that no one was smiling or confused anymore. They knew he was right. "From this moment, you only follow my orders! If I am not present, it's not my order! And if you don't follow that one simple rule, you will leave this place forever. Quite possibly in a bag. Am I clear?"

Silence greeted him, and he snarled at them to get what he wanted, "Is that clear?"

"Yes, sir!" they replied in unison, determination in their resounding voices.

He stood there, intimidating them with his glare for a few more seconds, until he felt they had enough.

"Off you go! Fifty laps. No one is allowed in until everyone is done."

This should give him at least one hour. Maybe two if they were not too exhausted.

The assassins turned toward the training field, Ximena already making her way there. Her heels would be working against her.

"Aconite, stay." He gestured to Elene without looking at her, "You go with me. I'll have to debrief you personally."

"Forrest!" Ximena turned on her heel and then, noticing everyone's attention on her, added, "The girl— needs a healer."

"Another reason she is not doing fifty laps," he brushed her off. "You have your task, Xi. I'll speak to you later."

***

Forrest led the way, aware of Elene's presence like a new scar – painful and impossible to ignore. Yet neither of them said a word to each other on their way to his private quarters.

His office was a fortress within the Cathedral, walls lined with books and rare finds from his travels. A massive wooden desk covered with many files and documents stood next to a glass wall. The heavy door shut with a definitive thud behind them.

Elene stood rigid, the makeshift scarf still concealing her features.

"Remove it," Forrest instructed, turning to face her and not knowing what to expect next.

Her hands were slow to comply, revealing a face marred by violence but no less regal for its injuries.

Forrest's chest tightened as he approached her. "You need healing," he said, his voice betraying none of the agony inside him. He knew how to be in control. It was his best quality.

"I need nothing from you," Elene spat back with venom that stung more than he cared to admit.

His jaw clenched as he fought the urge to react. "You're in my territory now," he said calmly. "Your safety is my responsibility."

Elene's eyes flashed with defiance, but there was a flicker of something else – pain, fear – that made him step closer.

He reached out tentatively to touch her face, but she recoiled sharply.

"Don't!" she warned, her voice low and dangerous.

Forrest withdrew his hand but didn't step back. A part of him wanted to remove the medallion from his neck.

"I have some meds in my drawers," he said instead.

She nodded stiffly, wrapping her arms around herself as if holding together the pieces of her pride.

You are in my territory? Hades seethed. Is that the best thing you can say to our mate, you moron! Fix this! Now!

A wave of guilt washed over him. He probably should have said something else. She was clearly scared and vulnerable, and he was failing her, whether or not she was his mate.

"Look," he stopped on his way to his desk, ready to apologise to her and explain that there was a mistake when he felt a strong push in the back. He quickly turned, ready to defend himself, but Elene was faster. She kicked his knee with precise accuracy and enough strength to dislocate it, throwing him against his own desk and pouncing on top of him in seconds, her sharp claws elongated and pressing firmly into his skin, drawing blood.

"No, I am going to be the one to talk, General Romero!" she spat his mouth as if the words alone were burning her tongue. "You are going to die tonight."