Rebirth Of The Rejected Luna Chapter 194: Dangerous Like An Ocean

Peter's POV

I didn't realize how much I needed it until she pulled me into an embrace, her slender arms wrapping around me softly. I froze for a moment, my heart pounding against my chest rhythmically as her body connected to mine. I could feel that strange electrifying sensation within me— just like the first time we touched.

She stayed there for a little while and the longer the embrace lasted, the more I realized I needed it. Not just from anyone, but from her. I let myself be vulnerable for once, allowing my arms to hold onto her tightly. An ache in my chest throbbing but easing up at the same time. I rest my head on her shoulder, sucking in a sharp breath. Her scent was powerful; drawing me in and comforting me in ways I had never been comforted before and I just could not let go.

I could feel myself melting in her arms like ice on a hot day. Like the way frozen mountaintops ran down the slopes in the summertime. I could almost feel tears sitting at the corners of my eyes but I did not even know what they were for.

Her heart was pounding in sync with mine. Was she nervous like I was? Did she need this too? Or was she feeling awkward about how I held on to her desperately? Was it because she realized this was wrong— I was the Beta and—

Wrong.

As soon as I realized it, I pulled back abruptly. This was not something meant to happen.

I searched her eyes, looking for what I did not know. They seemed uncertain and she avoided mine as well and when they finally settled back on mine, I felt a torrent of emotions that were unrecognizable flooding me. My jaw tightened. "This should not have happened."

She nodded. "I understand, I just wanted to make you feel better."

And you have, I wanted to say. Instead, I kept quiet for a bit, allowing my jaw to work itself out tensely before mumbling. "You're dangerous."

His eyes held a flicker of confusion but it was gone in an instant. I was grateful she did not ask what I meant by her being dangerous.

It wasn't logical. I had only met this woman a few days ago, yet somehow she stirred feelings in me that only Amara had. Before I could stop myself, I felt my hand reaching out to hold her face gently, searching her eyes.

Her lips parted slightly as I cupped her face, and I swore I saw a flicker of something dangerous in her eyes—something dark, something untamed. It vanished as quickly as it came, buried beneath the carefully constructed mask she always wore. It was so fleeting that I might have imagined it. But I had been trained to read people, to decipher even the most imperceptible shifts in expression. And I knew when someone was holding something back.

Yet, I didn’t let go.

I stood there, my fingers cradling the delicate curve of her jaw, my thumbs grazing the smooth skin of her cheekbones. She felt warm, impossibly soft beneath my touch, and I could feel the subtle tremor in her muscles like a violin string stretched too tight. A heartbeat pulsed beneath her skin. It was fast and uneven. A rhythm that echoed my own.

She was dangerous. Not just in the way a blade was dangerous, sharp and unforgiving, but in the way the ocean was—deep, relentless, capable of pulling a man under before he even realized he was drowning.

“You’re dangerous,” I whispered again, the words tasting like a confession.

Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. Her lashes fluttered, and for a moment, just a breath of one, I thought she might lean in. But she didn’t. Instead, her hand, small but somehow long and slender fingers hesitantly lifted to cover mine.

A jolt of something raw and primal surged through me. My stomach clenched. She was too close. And yet, not close enough.

My wolf stirred, clawing against the inside of my ribs, restless, eager. Drawn to her in a way that made my blood run hot. It was instinctive, undeniable and dangerous in a way I wasn’t prepared for. That realization alone sent a bolt of alarm through me, and before I could stop myself, I tore my hand away as if her touch had burned me.

I took a step back, my heart pounding in a way I could not control, feeling like it could burst out of my chest any moment and I would die from it. And yet, as I pushed her hand away and reduced our proximity, it ached. I could already feel a sense of longing. It was as though a part of me was incomplete.

She let her hand drop, her expression carefully schooled into neutrality. But her eyes—those damn dark eyes that drew me in gave her away.

"I should go," I said, my voice rough, as I turned toward the door. My feet felt heavy across the floor but I had to keep moving slowly, still trying to process through the fog that refused to lift in my brain.

"Wait," she said.

The single word was quiet, almost hesitant, but it froze me in place. My fingers curled into fists at my sides. I wasn't angry but I was frustrated. Not with her, but with what she did. The kind of effect that she had on me. It scared me.

"Peter..." She said quietly.

My name on her lips unravelled something in me. It struck at the walls I had meticulously built, rattling something loose, something I had long since buried.

I turned my head slightly, waiting.

She hesitated before speaking, her voice softer now. "You can talk to me, you know. If you ever need to."

Something sharp twisted deep in my chest. I didn’t know if it was guilt, longing, or something far worse.

But I didn’t respond.

I just walked out, shutting the door behind me.