The Banished Shy Luna Chapter 64

Toren’s hands framed my face like I was something fragile and blazing at the same time. His mouth found mine—first a slow press, then deeper, heat pouring into me until my toes curled in the carpet. He tasted like coffee and iron and the promise of a fight he’d win for me. When he finally broke the kiss, our noses brushed and his breath shook against my lips.

“Stay in this room,” he murmured, voice gravel-low. “With Talon. Don’t step into the hall unless he’s with you. Promise me.”

My fingers fisted in his shirt. “I promise.”

It wasn’t enough for him. He kissed me again—rougher, hungrier—teeth catching my lower lip until I gave a startled sound that was halfway between a gasp and a growl. His palm slid to the side of my neck, thumb stroking the frantic pulse there as if memorizing it.

“I’ll be back,” he said, and the vow sat heavy and certain in the air between us. “When I am, I’m taking you like the first time. Fast. Rough. Perfect.”

Heat flashed through me. “Then be safe,” I whispered, trying to sound brave.

The corner of his mouth tugged. “Always.” He turned, slinging a worn backpack over one shoulder. “Jake.”

Jake appeared in the doorway like he’d been carved from the frame—steady, watchful. He gave me a respectful nod without letting his gaze stray where it shouldn’t.

Toren squeezed my hand once—hard—then was gone, his scent of cedar and smoke dragging behind him like a comet tail. The door thunked shut. Silence rolled in to fill the space he left.

I sat on the edge of the bed. The mattress sighed.

Talon lingered where he was for a beat, then crossed the room and sat beside me, close enough that our knees grazed. He didn’t crowd me. He just offered his palm, open and quiet. I slid my hand into his and the warmth of him steadied the shake I hadn’t realized had crept into my bones.

“It’s going to be okay,” he said. His voice was softer than Toren’s—lower, not as rough, but still threaded with power. “He knows how to get through to Tyson.”

“Does he?” I asked. I hated the wobble in my voice.

“Yes.” Talon’s gaze held mine. “They understand each other… in ways the rest of us don’t.”

I nodded, though the knot in my chest didn’t loosen. Another small silence settled—gentler this time. “Tell me about you,” I said. “I want to know everything.”

His brows lifted, a little caught off guard. “About me?”

“About you,” I repeated, trying for a smile. “Not the beta. Not the brother. Just… Talon.”

He let out a breath and something in his shoulders uncoiled. “It’s not a pretty story.”

“I don’t need pretty,” I murmured. “I need true.”

He looked at our joined hands, then brought mine up and brushed his lips to my knuckles. “Alright.” He leaned back slightly, eyes on some old, invisible thing over my shoulder. “I’m the youngest. The mistake.” His mouth twisted. “Our father made sure I never forgot it. Tyson didn’t let me forget it either.”

“Why?” I asked, even though I suspected the answer.

“Our mother died having me.” His jaw clenched. “They never forgave me for being born.”

Pain swept through me, sharp and helpless. “Talon…”

He shrugged, a small, hard movement. “I left at thirteen. Slept where I could. Fought when I had to. Worked kitchens, docks, a garage for a while. Toren sent what he could—cash stuffed in envelopes, message drop spots, a pair of boots when winter hit. He’d call and say, ‘Hold on. I’m coming.’ And then one day he did.” A flicker of a smile touched his mouth. “Took the Alpha trait from the old man, walked away, built his own pack. The first position he offered was mine.”

“Because he loves you,” I said, throat thick.

“Because that’s what Toren does,” Talon said quietly. “He takes care of his own.”

I hesitated, then asked the thing that had been scratching under my ribs since Elder Thora’s pronouncement. “Is this… what you want?”

His head tipped. “What do you mean?”

I twisted on the bed to face him more fully. “Being a beta. Being mated to me. Sharing me. Sharing a pack. Is that what you actually want? Or is this just—” I searched for the words. “—what landed in your hands because of duty and blood?”

Confusion flashed, then something darker, coiling tight. His hand tightened around mine until I felt my pulse thrum against his palm. “I would do anything for Toren,” he said, voice low and edged. “He showed up when no one else did. He pulled me out of gutters and out of fights that would’ve ended bad. If this is how it has to happen for us to have a mate, then so be it.”

The words stung more than I expected. “I’m not asking if you’d do it for Toren,” I said softly. “I’m asking if you’d do it for you.”

A muscle ticked in his cheek. “I don’t separate those things. I don’t get to.”

“That’s not true,” I whispered. “You do.”

He stood abruptly, letting my hand fall. The loss of his warmth made me flinch. “I’m going downstairs to pay for another night,” he said. “I’ll update the warriors about the situation. I’ll bring back food.”

“Talon, wait— I didn’t mean—”

He paused with his palm on the doorframe, not looking back. “I know you didn’t mean anything by it. But this is… a lot. For all of us.” He swallowed. “I’ll be back soon.”

The door clicked shut.

I sat very still, the quiet roaring in my ears. Shame crawled hot over my skin. Maybe I shouldn’t be anyone’s mate. Maybe I was the wedge that would split brothers who’d already survived too much. The thought sliced deeper than I wanted to admit.

I pulled my knees up, wrapped my arms around them, and pressed my forehead down. Breathe in, breathe out. The rhythm steadied, but the ache stayed.