The Cursed Alpha's Fifth Luna

Rodrigo closed the closet door behind him.

The knot between his shoulders throbbed with every step as he crossed the room and lowered himself onto the edge of the bed.

Only when he sat did he realize how exhausted he was. He had not slept in a while, and he could feel a headache pressing against his skull.

Rodrigo pinched the bridge of his nose and glanced at the bed.

Just for a minute.

She was still changing. He would close his eyes for a moment, then wake before she came out.

He stretched out on the mattress, let out a slow breath, and closed his lids. The moment his eyes closed, darkness swallowed him.

...

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Rain struck glass.

The sound drifted through the darkness, steady and hollow, filling the space.

Tap.

Tap.

Tap.

Rodrigo’s eyelids fluttered open.

For a moment, everything was blurred. A dim light seeped through a rain-streaked window, barely pushing back the darkness pressing in from every corner.

He frowned.

The ceiling.

The dark walls without a single light.

This was not his room.

His pulse stumbled.

He pushed against the armrest to stand.

Metal snapped taut.

Clink.

His arms stopped short.

Rodrigo looked down. His hands were small... like a child’s.

Iron cuffs bit into his tiny wrists, the metal already slick and warm. Thick chains disappeared beneath the wooden chair, holding him in place no matter how hard he pulled.

Blood stained the front of his shirt.

Not a few drops.

So much that the fabric clung to his skin, cold and thick, and had already begun to dry.

Almost immediately, heat bloomed beneath his ribs, so intense that a blood-curdling scream tore through his throat.

An incredible flame tore through his chest, racing along his veins until it reached his shoulders, his arms, his spine. Every breath fanned it hotter. It felt as though his bones had been filled with molten iron, burning him from the inside while his skin remained untouched. He could smell something scorched, something that made no sense, because nothing around him was on fire. Only him. Only the inside of him.

A strangled groan escaped him as he tried to speak, but he could not form the words.

His back arched against the chair.

The chains rattled violently, the sound swallowed almost instantly by the roar building behind his own eyes.

The iron cuffs carved deeper into his wrists as his body fought the pain on instinct, but it was useless.

The pain wouldn’t stop.

It kept spreading.

His vision trembled, the edges of the room folding in and out like something underwater.

The taste of blood filled his mouth where he’d bitten the inside of his cheek, sharp and metallic against his tongue.

Then—

Footsteps.

His body froze.

One.

Two.

Measured.

Unhurried.

The sound grew louder until it stopped outside the door.

A key slid into the lock.

Metal scraped against metal.

The latch clicked and the door creaked open.

Rodrigo dragged in a shaky breath as he lifted his head, trying to see who had come in, but he couldn’t see their faces. It was blurred, distorted, like looking through fogged glass.

The footsteps entered.

Closer.

The air itself seemed to tighten around him, thinning until it was harder to breathe than it had been a second before.

The footsteps stopped.

Right in front of him.

Rodrigo’s eyes lowered slowly to the ground. Black leather shoes.

Beside them—

A pair of female shoes.

His brows drew together. He had seen these shoes before. Where?

"He survived the soul-searching fire."

The man’s voice was low.

"And yet he has refused to say where he hid the seal."

Seal? What seal?

Rodrigo’s brow tightened, the word snagging on something buried too deep to reach.

Silence.

A woman stepped closer.

Cool fingers caught his chin as she lifted his face, her nails pressing crescents into his jaw.

"This stupid child doesn’t know where it is," the man said quietly. "We have to find another way to get the seal."

The woman’s nails dug hard into his skin as she stared at him like she was searching for something behind his eyes.

Rodrigo bit hard into his tongue as a tear dropped from the corner of his eye.

"He knows." Her voice sounded familiar.

His chest tightened.

He knew that voice.

He was certain of it.

But it sounded distant, warped, as though it had traveled through water, and no matter how hard he reached for it, the name stayed just out of grasp.

"Double the torture until you find it."

The man exhaled. "The child will die," he said. "We can find the seal some other way..."

The woman left his face and turned to the man. "Even better," she said and turned toward the doors.

Rodrigo stopped breathing. A painful scream tore through his throat as the man stood in front of him again, lifting a cup to his mouth; he parted Rodrigo’s lips and poured a scorching liquid down his throat.

A more searing pain tore through his flesh as the liquid trickled down his throat, and Rodrigo exploded into a soul-wrecking scream.

...

Nina froze. "Snow?" she called shakily as her eyes fell on him.

His face was pale, almost colorless. Sweat covered his forehead and dampened his hair; his brows were drawn together as though he was in pain. His shirt had twisted around him, damp and clinging, and his knuckles had gone white where they gripped the bedsheet.

His breathing came in short, uneven pulls, and his jaw was locked so tightly that the muscles along it stood out. One hand gripped the bedsheet, the fabric twisted tightly in his fist, and the other trembled against the mattress.

Nina’s feet moved before she could think, her pulse quickening with every step. By the time she reached him, the color had drained from her own face.

She reached for his shoulder, her fingers trembling as they touched him. His skin was burning under her palm, like he was soaked in boiling water.

"Rodrigo," she called again, giving him a gentle shake. "Wake up!"

She shook him several times, panic in her eyes, but he wasn’t budging.

Nina’s face paled with worry as she shook him, slapping hard against his chest.

"Rodrigo! Wake up!" she screamed, and then, his eyes flung open.

Nina exhaled shakily, her mouth moving to speak, but before she could make a sound, his hand went over her throat and he flipped her over onto the bed.

Nina’s hands flew to his hand around her neck as a gasp tore from her throat.

"Rodrigo..."

His fingers only tightened.

Pain shot through her neck. Her airway narrowed until she couldn’t breathe. She dug her nails into his arm, trying to pry his hand away, but it didn’t budge.

"Rodrigo... it’s me..."

He didn’t hear her.

His eyes were open, but they were empty, fixed on something she couldn’t see. His jaw was clenched, his face drenched in sweat, every muscle in his arm rigid as though he were fighting someone else.

Spots danced at the edges of Nina’s vision.

Air.

She needed air.

Her chest burned. Her lungs strained, but nothing came.

She clawed weakly at his wrist, her strength fading with each passing second.

"Ro..."

Her voice broke into a rasp.

Her body was going limp.

"Snow..." she whispered, barely able to force the word past her crushed throat. "It’s... me..."

Something changed.

The wildness in Rodrigo’s eyes faltered.

His pupils focused.

He blinked once.

Then twice.

His gaze settled on her face.

Horror flooded his expression.

His hand sprang open.

Nina lurched away, collapsing onto the floor beside the bed. A fit of violent coughs tore through her as she clutched her throat, dragging air into her burning lungs. Every breath scraped painfully on the way down.

Rodrigo stared at his own hand as though it belonged to someone else.

Then he looked at Nina.

His face drained of color.

"Nina..."

He reached for her.

She flinched.

Instinctively, she scrambled backward until her back hit the wall.

Rodrigo froze.

The look on her face struck him harder than any blade could.

Fear.

Real fear.

His arm fell slowly to his side.

"I’m sorry."

His voice cracked.

Pain flickered across his face as he swallowed hard.

"I’m sorry."

Nina stayed where she was, breathing unevenly, one hand still wrapped around her bruised neck.

"I had a nightmare."

His eyes glistened.

"I’m so sorry... I hurt you."

Silence stretched between them.

Then Rodrigo took a cautious step forward.

Another.

Each movement was slow, uncertain, as though he expected her to pull away.

She didn’t.

When he reached her, he hesitated for a heartbeat before wrapping his arms around her.

He held her tightly.

Too tightly.

His body trembled against hers.

As though if he loosened his grip, she would disappear.

"I’m sorry," he whispered shakily against her hair. "I’m so sorry."

Nina’s eyes pressed shut.

A tear slipped down her cheek.

She lifted her arms and held him back just as tightly, her fingers bunching the fabric across his back.

Rodrigo pressed a trembling kiss to her forehead.

Then another to her temple.

Another to her cheek.

He rested his forehead against hers, his breathing still uneven.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

Finally, Nina drew in a careful breath.

"I’m okay," she whispered.

She lifted her head enough to meet his eyes.

"You had a nightmare."

Her voice was soft.

"What did you see?"

Rodrigo’s expression changed.

The guilt in his eyes gave way to something else.

Recognition.

His brows drew together.

The dream.

It hadn’t just been a nightmare.

It was a memory.

A memory that had been buried for years.

He blinked once, his heartbeat quickening.

"I remembered something."