The Luna’s Second Chance Mate

Larissa’s POV

Even without feeling all over my under eyes, I could tell that they were swollen. It even took so much will power to force myself to continue my chores and take care of Declan like nothing was happening in the first place.

And it was getting tiring; ever since that day, I’d taken to my bed at any opportunity I found. It was hurting too much, so much that it felt like a chainsaw gutting me out every day.

I couldn’t get the image of his expression that day out of my head. I hated that I thought of him so much. I hated that my happiness, however little had begun to dwell on his own affirmations.

Fuck, why did I have to care in the first place? He would never see me for who I was. He would never love me; I was merely here to take care of his son as he saw fit. He must think my feelings are a plaything, tsk.

Standing there, I felt stupid all over again. How could I have let this happen once again? I wanted to bring myself to reject him once and for all, I couldn’t even bring myself to do that. I hadn’t seen him ever since that day, frankly I didn’t fancy seeing him. I didn’t want to have to face him. Perhaps it was best the way it was, I could get over it a lot easier.

I felt a small pang in my chest yet again, the wave of this one hitting harder than they have in the last few days.Content protected by Nôv/el(D)rama.Org.

“Hey, Larissa…are you sure you’re fine?” A calm, feminine voice pulled me out of my trance like state and I flinched, spinning around sharply and dropped the dish in my hands to the ground.

“Ouch!” I jumped, startled and squatted quickly to gather the shards that had scattered on the ground. Instead I pricked one finger on a shard of broken dish, whimpering at the sensation. It was just about as painful as a needlepoint injury; inconspicuous but just as painful.

The figure in the kitchen with me who gasped was Gwen, whose lips were parted in a mix of surprise and irritation, and muttering a string of barely audible curses as her glances shifted from me to the mess on the ground, and back to me.

“I told you before, don’t do the dishes if you’re not feeling well. You always break them!” She yelled again while clicking her tongue, the expected vile replaced with concern.

She stared at me with soft eyes, crouching down to pick up one of the larger shards before waving it at my face. “Are you sure you’re fine? I wasn’t going to say this, but you’ve been spacing out quite a lot.”

“I-I’m fine.” I muttered back unconvincingly, struggling to wipe off the excesses of dishwashing liquid from my hands and completely ignoring the pain in my fingers. I rose to my feet and she mirrored my action, staring at me with the most concern.

“Now that’s a lie and you know it. I don’t want to bug you, but did something happen to you? You know you can tell me.” She spoke softly again after running a hand through her hair that she had let down today.

Even seeing her let down her now auburn hair reminded me of the way he’d pulled away the elastic band in my hair that day. He didn’t even know how effort it took to keep my hair down that day. Wait, why was I even thinking about him again now?

Gwen noticed the discomfort in my expression and let out a sigh in what I assumed was defeat before walking to the other end of the kitchen to fetch a broom. She came back in no time, sparing me a displeased glance before nudging me with her elbows.

“Just go to your room, I’ll clean this mess up.” Her voice carried a tone of instruction and I had no choice but to comply. I didn’t want to remain here. More than anything, I wanted to return to my room and gather my wages and probably spend it on getting some befitting clothes that didn’t scream depressed as I was.

I had thought of getting a phone once, but what was the point? I had no one left in the world to reach out to. I was locked up with my own problems, and no one gave a fuck about it.

I nodded at that and forced a smile to assure her that I was fine before walking out of the kitchen. as I did, I glanced at the dining table, remembering all the times I’d served him and Declan breakfast.

The image was vivid as if it was happening in reality, but I knew I was just hallucinating. They’d been happening recently. I saw him everywhere when I didn’t want to.

I saw him when I closed my eyes, even in my lucid dreams and it frustrated me to no end. I sighed again and started for the stairs, when I saw him again walking down the stairs with a t-shirt that clung to his torso for dear life, and marching sweat pants.

I blinked at him twice, but he remained there with his hands thrust deep in his pockets. He was looking straight ahead, avoiding my gaze at all costs. It was weird, every time I saw him, he was staring at my soul. But today, he was looking at something else. I rolled my eyes at that, patting at my hair before letting out another sigh.

“What the fuck are you looking at?” I snapped.

“What the fuck are YOU looking at?” He snapped back with almost bewildered eyes. Startled, I flinched and took small steps backwards, pinching my cheeks so hard that I was sure they would bruise.

I wasn’t hallucinating. He was really there on the staircase, staring at my mortified form with one raised brow. Only then did I feel a heavy wave of embarrassment hit me hard, as well as a million other feelings I couldn’t describe. There was hurt, anger, fear and a feeling that my chest was going to explode all at once.

“Slacking off?” He continued tauntingly, forcing my eyes back up from where they had wandered to. He looked away almost immediately before clearing his throat harshly, looking at me with stern eyes. I didn’t respond, instead I looked away again.

“Clean the living room. Now. My guests would be here in a few minutes and I don’t want them telling me how murky the whole place is because a certain housekeeper refused to do her job.” He finished harshly, not sparing any more glances before pushing past me to his study.

I stood there numbly for a minute, finally feeling the pain of a thousand needles pricking at my heart course through my veins. I didn’t imagine that seeing him after that day would hurt so much. I had half expected him to say something. Anything, if it would numb the way I felt. Instead he just dished out his orders and left like that.

I nodded to thin air, struggling to blink back the tears that had begun to brim in my eyes. It hurt so much, and I hated it. Wiping back at the tear in my eyes, I turned around only to see Gwen looking at me pitifully. Even that hurt all the more.

Kaden’s POV

As soon as I’d thrown the door to the study open, I let out a breath I didn’t even know I was holding. I didn’t imagine that I’d see her so soon after that evening. Peter was agitated seeing her too, and I was so tempted to slap him into sanity. This was all his fault, if only he hadn’t let the mating season get to him.

Don’t blame me for your own errors, Kaden. You were the one who called Amaya that day.

“Can you fucking shut up for a damn minute?!” I snapped back, walking briskly to my desk before plopping onto the chair. I ran a hand through my hair in futile attempts to pull my shit together, but it didn’t work.

Annoyed and frustrated, I picked up a file from the desk. But even that appeared to be splattered black ink on white paper. The words were all jumbled, and I slammed it back onto the desk.

I rose from my seat again, walking to the miniature bar in the study. I stopped at the bar, grabbing a bottle of whiskey from the counter when I halted my movement.

Her scent from the last time still lingered all over the bar. Something about it was comforting as much as it bothered me. Why couldn’t I get her out of my mind? She was everywhere I went and it drove me crazy. Even her words from that night echoed in my head, forcing me to ditch the wine and return to my seat.

Kaden, you’re screwed big time. No matter how long it takes you to admit it.