The Lunar Queen Chapter 31

Lyric POV

Tonight is prom, and graduation is in four days. These last few weeks flew by, and I’ve gotten to know both Mason and Cole so much better, which has made me more confused than ever. They are both so perfect, and this is just too much. It feels like no matter which direction I turn, I’m stepping toward something I can’t undo, and I don’t even know which choice will hurt more when it finally comes down to it.

I’m so nervous and excited all at once for tonight.

“Tonight is going to be great, stop stressing,” Nova says.

“I can’t help it; there are a lot of variables in his plan. What if something goes wrong?” I ask, my fingers twisting into the fabric of my robe like I can physically hold everything together if I try hard enough.

“Nothing will go wrong,” she says, sounding too confident.

“Let’s hope not,” I murmur aloud, because that confidence doesn’t settle the feeling sitting heavy in my chest—it just makes it louder.

Winter bursts into my room. “Good morning, my darling. Are you ready for the best night of your life?” she asks.

“We can only hope,” I reply.

“It will be,” she says. “Now, let’s get you fed so we can get you cute,” she adds.

“It’s only 7 in the morning,” I groan.

“Yes, and beauty is an all-day thing,” she replies.

“You are the devil,” I say to her.

“You love me. And besides, that bird’s nest on top of your beautiful head is going to take four hours to tame—that’s a mess,” she says, touching my hair.

“It’s not that bad; it’s only been out for two days,” I say, annoyed.

“Yikes,” she responds.

I hear a knock at the door, and Winter turns to open it. An omega named Felicity enters with a cart full of food.

“Thank you, Felicity. Please tell me there’s very strong coffee on this cart,” I say.

“Mary sent up her special blend for you, Lyric,” Felicity replies.

“Oh, thank goddess,” I say, reaching for the pot and a glass, already pouring before she finishes speaking because I need something to steady me.

“Do you need anything else?” Felicity asks.

“No, we’re all good. Maybe some more coffee, actually,” I say.

“I will bring that right up,” she promises, walking out of the room.

“Okay, let’s get started on that hair. Go shower and wash it,” she says, guiding me toward the bathroom.

I step into the shower, trying to let the hot water wash away the bad feeling I haven’t been able to shake for weeks. It doesn’t. It just sits there under my skin, quiet but constant, like it’s waiting for tonight.

I detangle my hair, rinse it, wrap it in a towel, and then climb out. I dry my body, apply my favorite vanilla lotion, throw on my robe, and step out.

“Took you long enough,” she says when she sees me.

“It took a while to detangle,” I reply.

“Well, sit,” she says.

Three hours later, she turns me in the chair to look in the mirror.

“Wow,” I say, breathless. My hair is bone straight for the first time ever. It’s pinned up in the front in an intricate design, with a few loose strands framing my face and the back cascading down my back.

“You look perfect,” she says.

“I’m getting ready, and all I can think about is what you’re going to look like when I see you,” Mason says me.

The smallest things he says make me smile. It’s soft, automatic, like my body doesn’t even question him anymore.

“Well, maybe focus on something else then,” I reply to him.

“I’m counting down the seconds, I’ve missed you so much, my sunflower,” he says.

“I can’t lie, I miss you too, Mason. I just don’t like sneaking around with you; it doesn’t feel right,” I tell him.

“I know, my love, and we are working on that. I just like that I can talk to you again,” he says.

“Are you going to therapy today?” he asks.

“She’s going to come to me,” I reply.

“Good, finish getting ready, my sunflower. I’ll see you soon,” he says, closing the line.

“My brother?” Winter asks.

“Yeah,” I say, smiling.

“I’m glad you guys are in a better place, but it makes me worried about your birthday. If you choose not to reject Mason, what happens with Cole and me? I’ll be leaving for the palace after my birthday,” she says, tears in her eyes.

“Don’t cry, Win. We don’t even know what will happen. The only one who knows is Selene,” I say.

“All I can do is live in my moments, and right now, my moments are with Mason,” I add, even though that feels like I’m standing in the middle of something that’s about to split open.

“I guess you’re right. You’re stronger than I am. I couldn’t live knowing I’d have to make a choice soon between two seemingly perfect mates,” she says.

“I don’t envy you,” she adds.

“Me either,” I respond.

An hour before Lucas is supposed to arrive, my therapist shows up. Winter excuses herself as she enters.

“Good evening, Lyric,” Heather greets.

“Good evening, Heather. Please sit,” I say, guiding her to a seat.

“Your hair looks beautiful. Tonight is a big night. How are you feeling about it?” she asks.

“Honestly, I’m nervous something might happen, but I’m trying to stay positive because he worked so hard to plan this for us. Still, I can’t shake the feeling,” I reply.

“What does it feel like?” she asks.

“Like dread, like a dark cloud; like something is looming,” I say, my fingers tightening in my lap as I finally put words to it.

“And what are you doing with that?” she asks.

“Nothing. I’m sitting in it. I can’t change what hasn’t happened, so I’ve just been trying to be present,” I answer.

“Okay, and how are we feeling about the other thing?” she asks.

“I honestly have been trying not to dwell on it much, but when Winter brought it up, I didn’t know. I kind of wish Cole hadn’t told me the truth when I asked for it, but then again, I feel like it would be easier if I didn’t know,” I explain.

“And Mason?” she gently asks.

“Mason is so much more than I’m making him out to be. Just because of what he meant to me at one point, the thought of rejecting him scares me. But the thought of what that could cost me if I don’t scare me even more,” I whisper, my voice barely holding steady.

“That’s good that you can admit that. It shows you’re making progress in not linking him to the trauma caused by the idea of him,” she says.

“I think we’ll end here, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Have fun tonight,” she concludes.

“I will try,” I say.

After she leaves, Winter walks back in.

“Ready to put on your dress and shoes?” she asks.

“Yes, I am,” I reply.

She helps me into my dress, and I sit in the chair to put on my heels, which bring me to about 5’4” tall.

“Wow, Lyric, you look beautiful. Picture for the king?” she asks, waving my phone.

“Yes, please,” I say, blushing.

She snaps a few photos, and I send them all to him.

My phone starts ringing in my hand.

“Hello,” I say, picking up.

“You look absolutely stunning, princess,” he says.

“Thank you, my king,” I say softly.

He growls. “What did I tell you about saying that?” he asks.

“Something about fire, and I said maybe I want to get burned,” I reply.

“Oh, please, Lyric, don’t say things like that while you’re wearing that dress. My mind is going places it shouldn’t. I’m going to go enjoy your night, princess. I can’t wait to hear all about it,” he says before we say our goodbyes and hang up.

The line goes quiet, but his voice lingers, settling somewhere deep, and for a second it makes everything else feel even more complicated.

“We really do look good, though,” Nova says.

“Our mate will love it,” she adds.

I grab my purse, and Winter walks me downstairs where Lucas is waiting.

“Wow, half-pint, you look gorgeous,” he says, making me blush.

“Thank you, Lucas,” I reply.

He holds out the corsage to me, and I hold my hand out for him to put it on.

“Oh, my sweetheart, you look beautiful,” my mom says, taking pictures.

“You really do, sweetheart,” my dad adds.

“Thank you. Can we go now?” I ask.

“Yes, my dear, have fun,” my mom replies as we head to Lucas’s car.

“Ready?” he asks.

“As I’ll ever be,” I say, even though that feeling in my chest hasn’t gone anywhere—it’s just quieter now, like it’s waiting.

Mason POV

I have never been so nervous in my life. Waiting for her to get here has been the most nerve-wracking thing ever. Kane has been pacing in my mind all day. Hearing her say she doesn’t like sneaking around with me breaks me because I don’t like it either. Only being able to hear her voice over the link and during the occasional senior meetings with her has been torture. I haven’t been physically close to her in weeks, and Kane is going crazy being apart from his mate.

Next week, we leave for alpha training, and that is going to be the longest 10 months of my life.

Kane starts going crazy in my mind—“our mate is close,” he says.

Then, like a warm blanket—sweet, warm, and comforting.

My breath catches; she is breathtaking.

She wears a deep burgundy dress that hugs her body, with two high slits on the thighs and a deep back that shows her scars. Her hair is straight and beautiful, and her green eyes shine brighter against the burgundy of her dress and the red of her hair.

I am stunned.

Kane howls in my mind—“our mate is perfection,” he says softly.

As she gets closer, she smells even better—hints of vanilla. Oh gods, help me tonight.

“Hello, Mason,” she says, and oh goddess, I know I will do whatever she asks of me—ever.

“Hello, my sunflower, you are gorgeous,” I say close to her ear, and she shivers in response.

“Thank you,” she says.

“I’m really glad you came,” I tell her.

“I am too,” she replies softly.

“You thirsty?” I ask.

She shakes her head no.

“Want to dance?” I ask.

“Sure,” she says, walking toward the dance floor, and I can’t help but stare as she walks away from me. Every step feels like something I’ve been missing coming back to me all at once.

Watching her dance is mesmerizing.

“I didn’t think you could dance. You would cry every time I asked when we were kids,” I tell her.

She laughs, and the sound goes straight to my cock—fuck, just one more year.

“That was because you were a horrible dancer, and I cried because it would make you stop asking,” she says, smiling up at me.

“Oh man, that is messed up,” I say.

“You brought it up,” she replies.

We stay quiet for a while, just enjoying the moment—dancing, laughing—until she starts,

“You know,” she says, pausing.

“I still have the necklace,” she whispers softly.

I already knew that, but I don’t want her to know I do.

“Do you? Why?” I ask.

“Because it was special, and even though there’s a bad memory attached to it, it represents so many good ones, and you gave it to me,” she says.

“Anything you ever gave me or anything we ever made together, I kept. I used to go to the stables every day, but it’s gotten too hard. Now I only go once a week,” she continues.

“I’m sorry, sunflower. I wish I hadn’t let you push me away. I should have fought harder for you,” I say.

“Mason, we were kids. It’s okay,” she replies.

“No, you were so much more to me, and I knew that even back then. I was just so hurt and confused,” I say, voice cracking.

She reaches out and takes my hand, and sparks erupt down my arm at the contact.

“I know, and that’s why it was so much harder for me because you didn’t even know why, and I couldn’t think of a reason that made sense quick enough,” she says.

“So, what was it like finding out I was your mate?” she asks.

“First shock, then relief, then guilt, then fear. But when you looked back at me before you walked out of the dining room on my birthday, all I felt was joy—that you, my sunflower, are really mine,” I tell her.

The night goes on; we dance and talk, eat and drink, and reminisce about all the crazy things her and Winter made me do as pups. We discuss what should be different in the pack; we talk about everything we can think of, and it feels incredible. My heart hasn’t stopped racing since I first saw her.

When we’re getting ready to leave, we stand off to the side of the dance floor.

“I had so much fun with you, Mason,” she says.

“I did too, more than you know,” I reply.

“Can I kiss you?” I ask her.

She nods yes, and I bend down to softly press my lips to hers. Her hands cup my cheeks, and she nibbles my lip, asking for permission, which I gladly give, deepening the kiss.

She tastes amazing—

and for a second, everything else disappears—the room, the music, the people—like it’s just us again, like nothing ever broke between us.

—and then a flash—

our moment is broken.

I glare at the person who took the picture.

“Sorry, it was for the yearbook,” says Kasey, a student on the yearbook committee.

“Just leave,” I say, my voice low and sharp, because something about that moment being captured feels wrong in a way I can’t explain.

I’m so furious I don’t even notice Lyric go rigid.

“Hey, sunflower, what is wrong?” I ask.

“That picture cannot make it into the yearbook; it can never be seen by anyone ever,” she says, eyes wild with panic.

I cup her cheeks. “Hey, focus on me. I will get the picture back and make sure nobody sees it,” I say.

“I want to go home,” she says.

And just like that, the night shifts—like something invisible just stepped into the room and everything we had a second ago is already slipping out of my hands.

Night ruined—fucking Kasey.

Because whatever she’s seeing in that moment… it’s bigger than a picture—and I can feel it about to cost me her all over again.