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Bound To The Alpha's Heart: His Silver-Eyed Luna  Novel Cover

Bound To The Alpha's Heart: His Silver-Eyed Luna

"Say you're mateless, Laia. No matter what you feel during the Ceremony, don't say a word," he whispered squeezing my bicep so tight I thought he'd leave bruise marks. I was stupid to hope. Years of secretly dreaming that Alphason Cael would be my mate and choose me, even while Lysandra clung to his side. All those fantasies shatter the night of the Moon Ceremony when I am forced to lie about fate tying us together. Mateless... that's what I am to the world now. All I want is to get my little brother and leave this damned pack forever, until one reckless kiss from Cael binds me to a new kind of doom. For my sin, Lysandra demands a price: steal the ancient Moon Relic from the Faceless Pack, or lose my brother's freedom. She feeds me lies about helping us disappear, about covering my university costs. Cael just stands there as the masked warriors of the most dangerous pack escort me onto the ship that will take me straight to Alpha Damon, the notorious leader of the Faceless Pack. How am I supposed to steal from a man whose very name is shrouded in mystery and menace? A masked Alpha who watches me with burning restraint. Every damn time we're near each other, his nostrils flare and all his muscles tense as if he's holding himself back. Sometimes he fails, sometimes I feel the ghost of his touch on the tips of my hair when he thinks I am not looking. And sometimes... I wonder if I'll survive being near him, seeing the pain in the depths of his eyes. I need to get out and leave Alpha Damon as a distant memory.
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Chapter 5

~LAIA~

Who would’ve thought my new toxic trait is staring at a man I can’t even see fully? Not just any man, the Alpha of these masked strangers.

I should be minding my business, but my eyes won’t leave him. Every move seems to entice me; the way his muscles tighten and relax under his shirt, strong, powerful and controlled.

The mask might have succeeded in hiding his face, but definitely not the power he's seems to exude.

He moves across the training deck like the ship belongs to him. Every strike and turn is totally on a god mode, and nothing like the pack training sessions I’ve seen a hundred times. Those were practice. This is violence turned into art.

His fist cuts through the air faster than I can blink, each blow landing on a wooden dummy with a hollow crack, his kicks spinning with a grace that reminds me of kung fu movies. But this isn’t a performance.

I stand on the deck of the large ship pretending to look at the waves lapping at its side, and somehow, all I can think about is the women whispering earlier that he’s an illegitimate heir, not a true Alpha, surrounded by enemies circling him like sharks.

Trying not to make him catch me, I looked away.

I put my elbows on the wide railing and push the irritating piece of hair being abused by the wind behind my ear. It flies right back out.

For whatever reason, we’ve been left alone, not caged, not pushed around… just idle. And yet under a microscope. There are no phones I could use to call Liam. Do they even have reception in the middle of the sea?

It’s been two days on this godforsaken ship. They walk around barking orders and keeping the ship moving, still wearing their uniforms and masks. How do they not get sweaty with those masks glued to their faces? Minutes after that thought, a young slim warrior comes up to Alpha Damon, whispers something to him, and walks away after his Alpha's node. I watch him exhale a long breath, wipe his chest with a towel, and still… entirely. A heartbeat passes, then all the masked men as one, reach up to their faces and pull off the masks.

Did he just issue a mind-link order to all of his pack members here? On a ship with thick metal walls, away from his territory where he can feed off the land?

I freeze. My eyes find his face. No, not just a face, Alpha Damon’s face. That’s all I see. Cold. Distant.

Gray eyes that shouldn’t burn, but somehow do.

It’s insane. I feel fifty shades of messed up just staring at him. Who is this man?

His gaze locks on me. The wind from the sea whips at my hair and cuts through the thin clothes making me shiver. But I stand there like a statue. He just stares. Stares and stares until I’m convinced I’m losing my mind. Can’t he speak?

A low thunderous sound rolls across the deck and the warriors moved into what seems to be specific positions.

The ship groans as it kisses the dock, the sound of chains clanking and wood creaking fills the air.

One of the masked men, well with no mask anymore, steps forward, his voice calm yet commanding.

“Time to move.”

I stare ahead, and the first thing my gaze meets with is the fortress itself, a wall of stone, and steel carved into cliffs rising so high it swallows the sky.

We disembark in groups, the warriors dividing themselves as we continued on foot, marching straight into the heart of the fortress. I look back, and dozens of cars are slowly driving out from the bowels of the giant ship. A truck’s bed is fully loaded, heavy under the weight.

“Keep walking.” The bark is only half-hearted.

Moving deeper past the gates, my jaw nearly hits the ground. What I thought was just a fortress is nothing compared to what stretches before me. This is a whole pack, alive, sprawling, land hidden behind tall walls.

Whoever designed this place was a genius. And I'm suddenly wondering if these massive walls were built to keep enemies out… or to keep something locked inside?

Lining the street are the members of the Faceless Pack, rows of them standing shoulder to shoulder, watching us march in like a parade. Their stares are heavy, crawling over my skin like fire.

And the worst part? Most of those eyes are on me. I can feel their whispers moving through the crowd, soft murmurs, words I can’t make out.

***

Aristotle once said, ‘He who has overcome his fears will truly be free.’ Easy words, right? But the truth is, fear doesn’t just vanish, it feeds on the silence you don’t want to face.

It’s suddenly dawning on me… fear isn’t always about monsters or death. Definitely not. It’s about the quiet things. The fear of starting over again. The fear of being alone, day after day, without Liam.

I'll be a liar if I said my legs don't ache. A worse liar if I said I don't feel nauseated.

We’re in a big temple with white walls and tall pillars. Light streams through the open roof, making the marble floor shine. Silence stretches all around us.The room is so quiet that even a pin dropping would echo. The scent of incense and burning herbs fills my nose. I look up… Wolf statues line the walls, their eyes glowing faintly in the light. Whoever did the artwork did an incredible job, it’s haunting, gothic, yet beautiful.

At the altar, a woman with long white hair stands with her back to us. Her robe flows around her like mist.

Alpha Damon steps forward, the mask now covering his face. Interesting… I thought they only wore those masks in other pack territories.

He clears his throat, and the Priestess finally, slowly turns to face us.

Alongside eleven others, I stand still, not daring to make a sound. Her eyes are strange, ancient, almost glowing, and I doubt they’re mortal.

“I’ve done my duty, Selara. The Sacred Twelve are here,” Alpha Damon says, his voice cold and much more like a growl. He doesn’t sound like a man who talks much. From what I’ve seen, the only time he spoke more than a few words was when he tried to convince Alphason Cael not to separate the children from their mother.

Before the High Priestess can even respond, Alpha Damon turns on his heel and strides past like we’re invisible.

Don’t look, Laia. Yes, don’t look… You can do this.

The words pound in my head like a chant. Oh, fuck this. Is he really just going to dump us here and go back to his people like it’s nothing? Focus, Laia. Focus. That’s not why you’re here. Remember Liam. Get this done, then leave.

I peek from under my lashes, my hands clasped in front of me demurely, and see his grey eyes slide over me from behind his mask. He doesn’t pause, as his steps carry him too close to me. Another step and he’ll be right here. I hold my breath, I don’t need his Alpha scent in my head. His eyes don’t stray from mine, cold and intent. I watch him in slow motion as he takes the last step towards me, towards the door, and freeze… The back of his hand, his knuckles brush against my hip for such a short moment that I am not sure I imagined it. I press my eyes shut and forbid myself from inhaling. I won’t breathe in his scent, I won’t look him in the eyes any more. No, no, no!

The heavy door groans behind me, and the echo ricochets off the dark walls telling me the masked Alpha is gone. I gasp filling my lungs with needed oxygen and taste him on the back of my tongue.

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