"You don't have to be okay," I said, resting my chin on her head and holding her tight. "You wanna talk about it?"
"No. I—" She paused, as if she remembered our conversation in the church, and then sighed. In the quietest voice, she breathed, "I can't get away from the memories, Priest. They’re everywhere. Even now, I can—I can feel it.Him."
My stomach knotted, and rage blotted out the rest of my emotions before I got them under control. Still, there was a growl in my voice when I asked, "What can I do, darling?"
"Make—make me forget," she pleaded haltingly, her voice thin and the thrashing sea of her soul tremulous.
I only caught her meaning when she pressed against me. My heart plummeted, a sick feeling inside me. I didn't want to only be a coping mechanism for her, but I didn't know how to say that.
"Luna," I murmured, and jolted when she pulled away sharply at my tone of voice. "I'm not rejecting you," I said quickly. "Far from it, darling. If you want me, I'm yours. But not like this. Not when I'll throw you into a flashback."
Luna winced, her dark brow knotted like she was in pain. "I'm sorry. I—I don't know what to do, Luke."
Responsibility and weight settled on my shoulders at the sound of my birth name, not my road name. I couldn't let her down; I had to help. I couldn'tstandher pain. I'd always thoughtI was strong, but seeing her hurt and struggling made me so damn weak.
She peered up at me, her crystal brown eyes brimming with tears, her face reddened and shiny. I tucked a braid behind her ear, my fingers lingering on the warmth of her neck.
"You want to forget?" I asked.
Luna nodded instantly, her breathing beginning to calm.
"Wanna go on a ride? I can't promise it'll wipe out the memories forever, but it could clear your head for a while. Give you a distraction."
She swallowed, still looking at me with desperate relief. "A distraction sounds good."
I stroked my fingers down her neck, marvelling that she let me touch her at all. "When you're ready—really ready—I'm here waiting. Okay?"
"Okay," she agreed, and followed me without complaint when I unlocked the door.
The trust in that gesture knocked the breath out of me.
14
Luna
Iwasn't sure how, but by the time Priest had driven us around the city a few times, my stomach stopped whirling, my mind stilled, and even the panic in my chest lightened. I wasn't truly settled—far from it—but at least I wasn't going to throw up and burst into sobs simultaneously.
He left me at the clubhouse door, ignoring the invitation in my eyes. I knew what I wanted: the calm that surrounded me when I was with him, the soft affection I saw in his eyes, the way I felt something close to safe. Safety was a precious luxury.
I knew he thought I couldn't make a clear decision right now, but what was wrong with wanting sex and closeness?
I meant what I said—I wanted to forget what happened. And maybe he was right, and it would remind me of that bed and that alpha, but maybe it would burn the memory out of me and replace it with something good.
When you're ready—really ready—I'm here waiting.
I sighed, walking past the still-rowdy bar and deeper into the clubhouse to the sanctuary. Priest said he wasn't rejecting me, but he was still keeping me at arm's length. Even if I understoodwhy, it was still confusing. If he wanted me, why wasn't he coming back to my room with me?
"Stop obsessing," I muttered to myself. But at least it was something new to obsess over.
Today had changed things, taken Priest from my one-time rescuer to someone I could rely on when I was thrown back into those memories; someone who'd hug me when I broke down and not judge me or look at me with that awful, aching pity. He was caring, steadfast, and perceptive, and that was hot as hell.
It didn't hurt that his arms bulged with muscle, he had tattoos, and he was as hot as hell. Ironic for a vicar.
My stomach growled, reminding me of more important things than my rapidly growing interest in Priest, and I glanced up when I reached the sanctuary’s living room. A few people I didn't know yet were lounging on the big sofas, watching a film, but Lynn was in the small kitchen area with a bottle of tequila in her scarred hand.
She glanced up when I approached, a swift smile crossing her face. She lifted her glass. "Want one?"
"Desperately," I agreed, matching her smile as I opened the fridge and surveyed the contents. My eyes fell on the little chocolate pots Priest had put in the trolley this afternoon. I knew he'd seen my eyes drift to them. They reminded me of the carefree life I'd lived days ago, before the Hunters grabbed me.