The Wolf King's Luna

CHAPTER 12

DAMON.

Craaasssh!

Ugh.

Waking up every day on a sofa is not doing me any favors.

I carefully pull myself up and away from the broken shards of the stool and tray littered all over the floor.

This is the fourth night of sleeping in my study and I am already over it.

My musings are stopped by the sounds of running feet before my door bursts open.

"Alpha. I heard… a crash. Did you fall over again," Ryder, my beta and friend asks with a mocking lilt.

"What? No. No, I just decided I would like to wake up on the floor with sharp wooden shards poking at me," I reply sarcastically.

"You know we have other rooms you can use. There is no need for you to make yourself suffer like this."

"No."

"No?"

"No. I want my own room."

And no, I am not pouting.

"Right," Ryder remarks.

It is more than just the room. It is the fact that Catherine is in there. I want to be in the room with her.

I want to hold her in my hands and litter her skin with kisses.

I want her.

Painfully.

"If you want your room back, maybe you should try getting to know your mate instead of avoiding her," Ryder says as he joins me in picking up the shards.

"I am not avoiding her," I respond.

"Right. She has been in the mansion for three days and the only people u have seen with her are your mother and Faye."

"Faye?"

"Yeah. I saw them discussing at the front of the door while I was doing an early morning sweep of the house."

"Why was she there?"

"Your mother asked her to go shopping for your mate. She needed clothes."

"Ah, that's good. Faye is cool, she will be in good hands."

"She should be in your hands."

"Not this again."

"Yes, this. Why are you avoiding her?"

"I am not. I am just giving her space."

"Space? From what? You are her mate. You should be the one showing her the ins and outs of the pack."

I stand up and dump my share of the debris in the dustbin, effectively cutting him off.

"Damon."

Oh shit.

He called me by my name with his no-nonsense voice.

Apart from my family, Ryder is the only one who can call me by my name. We were practically raised together. With his father being my father's Beta, it was only expected that we would follow in their footsteps.

"What?"

"I don't know what is going on between you two but you need to step up. I mean even though I just hate the fact that she has seen your wolf and I haven't, I still need you to understand the fact that she is your mate."

"I understand."

"I don't think you do. She is not just your mate. She is the future Luna of the pack. Gossip has already begun to spread that you have a woman in your rooms, your mate. And for the past four days, you have not been seen with her. Didn't you like her?"

"What?! Of course, I like her. She is perfect."

"Then what is it?"

"She is scared of me," I say.

"why would she be scared of you?"

"I don't know. I am guessing she must have heard the rumors about me being a ruthless lunatic."

"Ehn."

"Hey! I am not a lunatic."

"At least you acknowledge that you are ruthless."

"I have to be. If not, all those vultures will try and pick us off."

"Yeah, yeah. I know. But still, you need to try and show her that that is not all there is to you. Man up for once and take a shower, you have last night's dinner in your hair.``

"What? And you are just telling me now," I growl as I ruffle my hair to get them out.

"I thought you looked cute with it," he says as he walks out.

"Asshole."

Without waiting time, I head into the bathroom for a quick shower. I have always thought that having an adjoining bathroom in the study was a waste of space but look at me now.

It makes me wonder how many times Mother had kicked my father out of their rooms, forcing him to spend the night here.

I emerge from the bath with a towel around my waist and move to the makeshift closet for my clothes.

Dressed in an acid-washed Orleans and black top, I head over to her -my- room, stopping at the landing to turn to the kitchen instead.

It is morning, she will be hungry.

I walk into the larger-than-life kitchen and begin preparing the ingredients for a lively breakfast.

How hard can it be?

Apparently, It's very hard.

In less than an hour, the whole kitchen is a disaster zone.

The shards from the blender are scattered all over the counter and floors and its contents are splattered all over the walls.

The skillet is burnt beyond use and the smoke detector is going off like crazy. The dustbin is overflowing with failed trials of pancakes, eggs, and bacon.

More like a war zone. All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

"What happened in here?"

I turn around to see my mother and Ryder standing at the entrance., eyes wide and mouth dropped.

"I tried to make breakfast for Catherine," I say.

Ryder, the lunatic, cracks up hysterically, so tickled that he drops to the floor, wheezing for breath.

My mother ignores him and walks towards me, examining the place as she does.

"How did you break the blender?" she asks.

"It wasn't doing what it was supposed to so I hit it."

The statement only serves to make Ryder roar even louder with laughter.

"Oh Damon, what am I going to do with you?"

"Make the breakfast," I tell her hopefully.

She sighs at me before turning to the industrial gas cooker and within minutes, I have a plate of freshly toasted bread with bacon and eggs.

No mishaps whatsoever.

Women are witches.

I give my thanks before heading up to the room.

As I enter, I catch sight of two women at the dresser. Faye is standing, facing the other woman who is sitting.

Confused, I am about to call out and ask for Catherine when the woman raises her head.

The tray souls from my hand and shatters to the floor, startling both women.

"Catherine?"