Instead, I guided us to the next aisle and picked up a 4-pack of chocolate dessert packs when I saw her eyeing them. She never asked for them, and she didn't comment as I added them to our cart and kept moving down the list.
"We've only got booze left and we're done," I sighed half an hour later, although there was noonlywhen it came to a motorcycle club and alcohol. "Are you doing alright, Luna?"
She nodded, throwing me a true smile. "I'm good. How about you—you're the one whose foot got run over."
Said foot throbbed viciously thanks to a kamikaze old man with a trolley, but I'd be fine. "I've had worse injuries. Told you it was a battle," I added with a wink.
Luna rolled her eyes, but she was blushing again, and her scent was smoky with desire. In my chest, our bond still thrashed like a deadly sea, but there was something less violent in the waves. Something more compelling, tempting.
"Alright," I huffed, when we reached the final aisle. "You go grab three bottles of vodka, and I'll get all the beer this place has to offer."
She laughed, thinking I was joking, and wheeled the trolley down towards the spirits. She seemed comfortable enough, so I scanned the shelves in front of me for the best offers on lager. We went through crazy amounts on a normal week, but with a barbecue too, we'd need evenmore. I kept telling Prodigy we should invest in a brewery.
I'd just decided on six 24-packs when blind panic cut through the bond, my air cutting off with a savage grip.
Shit.Luna!
I abandoned the beer and raced down the aisle, a growl in my throat as I assessed the threat and prepared to kill to defend my mate.
But all I found was a male beta reaching for a bottle of whiskey on the top shelf. He was a little too close to Luna, but not threatening, just going about his shopping.
Yet Luna wasterrified. She'd frozen in place, completely still. But with how intently I scanned her, there was no missing that she shook so hard her teeth rattled, her breathing coming in short gasps.
I choked off my growl and met the bewildered look the beta gave us, a warning scowl narrowing my eyes. He quickly hurried on.
"You're safe, Luna, you're safe," I murmured, wrapping her up in my arms and tucking her face close to my neck where my scent was the strongest. "No one's going to hurt you."
Her breathing was a jagged mess, but her fingers found the shirt under my cut and clutched me hard. Was she stuck in a flashback?
"It's Priest, it’s Luke, I've got you. Do you remember me, darling?"
She nodded, and in a small voice replied, "You found me in that place."
I held her tight with one arm and stroked her back. "You're in a supermarket; no one's gonna hurt you here. I won't let them."
"I'm fine," she mumbled, struggling to free herself. I let go, but caught her cheek in my palm, looking deep into her eyes.
"You don't have to be fine. I wouldn't be. I know you're strong as hell, but you can be weak if you need to be. I've got you."
Her head thudded back onto my chest and she hugged me tightly. A tremor went through the bond, and this time I was pretty sureImade it. She sucked in a breath as if she felt the shudder, but she didn't say anything about it.
"There's good news," she rasped after a while, drawing away from me with a shadowed smile. "Vodka's three pounds off this week."
I stroked her cheek before dropping my hand, matching her smile with my own. "Let's finish up quickly and go home. If you thinkthiswas the fun bit, wait until we unpack this in the kitchen."
Luna stared at the overflowing trolley in horror.
12
Luna
Ishould have stayed at the compound today. That was now painfully clear; even an hour after Priest and I got back and found somewhere to put the food in the huge kitchen, I wasstillunsettled. A door slammed deeper in the compound and I jumped, my fingers slashing a violent line through the blue sky I was trying to paint.
The painting didn't look right; something was missing. Not an element in the composition so much as … a soul. Aperspective. I'd seen the sky when Priest drove us back, and captured it as inspiration, but now that I was here, perched on the edge of the bed in my room with an easel set up in front of me, I couldn't summon that same feeling.
My inspiration was dead, and the blue canvas filled with fluffy white clouds was … inane. Flimsy and transparent.
I grabbed a palette knife and squeezed a darker blue onto my palette, mixing until the colours were moodier. Maybe theclouds just needed shadows, something to make them less … bland. Ordinary.