A Broken Luna novel Chapter 9

"You know we can clean up for ourselves, Edna. You don't have to."

"Oh I know, but you're my Alpha and Luna."

"We're still ordinary people, well I am. Please, I will do this. It's our mess anyway," I tell her, taking the black bag from her.

"Well, are you sure, Luna?"

"Positive," I smile back at her and she returns it, walking out of the room. I clean up the little mess Kaden and I made. We spent the evening watching two movies whilst eating cotton candy and also ice cream. Let's just say, it's great that he has a freezer of ice cream in his office! Seriously, this guy has everything. He's got a mini-ish fridge in his room, and the freezer is in his office. He mainly stores a lot of ice cream there. Along with those, he has all these bowls, plates, cutlery etc. He could basically live up here and doesn't have to go down. How amazing is that?

After throwing all the rubbish into the black garbage bag, I walk out the room to head downstairs but am stopped when Kaden walks out of his office. He stares down at the bag and gives me a questioning look. "Um? I thought Edna was doing that?" He asks, scratching his head.

"I offered to do it. She shouldn't have to clean up after us," I tell him, continuing to walk. I hear the office door shut and he's suddenly by my side.

"Alright then. Well, I came to talk to you about something."

"What's up?" I ask. It was odd, I felt a little more comfortable around him. I felt less uneasy. He managed to convince me last night that he wasn't going to reject me, but I still held that thought in the back of my mind. For now, I'd push it right to the back and focus on this mate bond I have with him. I mean, why not strengthen it? I guess.. I still feel uneasy about trusting him. After all, I've been stabbed in the back many times. The worst time was when I literally got stabbed in the back. It happened last year, on my sixteenth birthday.

Trigger warning for the below scene-

*

"How can you live with yourself knowing you've killed your mother? I can't stand to look at you. I mean, no one practically can. Sixteen and still a stupid mutt. Your mother died for you?" I stared up at the group of teens staring down at me. They'd pushed me to the ground and kicked and punched me a lot. I hated it, but I deserved it. Years and years of torment because I killed my mother, I surely did deserve it.

What a great sixteenth birthday.

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