The Luna's Bodyguard [a mature werewolf romance]

Ch 5: All Duty Some Booty

OPHELIA'S POV
🌶️

Fallon shuddered slightly, like electricity was jolting through every nerve in his body. The pressure of his mouth was heady after months of being touch-starved, without even Kirkwall's steady trickle of insecure backpackers looking to find self-actualisation in the warmth of my ratty bed. I moaned when his veiny hands skimmed my sides, trailing surprisingly gently down the flare of my hips, teasing rather than touching.

The sound unravelled something in him, and then he had me pressed up against the door jamb, his lips crushing down on mine. His strength was exquisite; never in my life had I been held and so utterly confident that I was there at their whim.

Fallon broke away with a gasp, recoiling as if he'd touched something hot. Which he had, but still, the shock on his usually stoic face was rather amusing. Even if the need building between my thighs wasn't.

The clarity of our parting gave me too much time to think. I realised, suddenly, that we were completely alone.

It was the perfect opportunity for a hit and run.

A quick uppercut to the jaw, or a kick between his legs, specifically, followed by a sprint into the streets of Kirkwall, as fast as my tattered old boots would allow.

"You want to run," Fallon rumbled. It was a statement, not a question.

"Maybe," I admitted. It was tempting to reconsider my suicide mission, but I'd been running for as long as I could remember, and the thought of going back to life the way it was before... I swallowed a hot coal of anger. It wasn't our life, per say, but out powerlessness that I was ashamed of.

"And now you want to fight," he observed. "Which will it be, Fell?"

"Neither."

I let out a whoosh of breath, furious at myself for forgetting why I was here in the first place. My one job was to keep Aurora safe. Without her, I was nothing. A royal bastard without a family to disgrace. A ghost without a castle to roam.

Killing Ignatius III was the only way I could stop the Crown Pack from sending hunters after Aurora, and she deserved the chance to find a place to settle down. The freedom to enrol in university without having to look over her shoulder and relocate at any second. The right to a career, a partner of her choosing and a normal, human life.

Fallon's frown softened. "Come with me," he said, leading me towards the docks.

The wood rang hollow with every step, and I watched the shifting sea through the cracks in the boards, imagining that I was walking on water. It would be great if I could just pick a direction and keep walking, off this island for good, to any country in the world.

When we reached the end, Fallon sat down, letting his feet dangle off the edge. It was another great opportunity: to shove him overboard and hightail it out of there, which meant he must be stupid enough to trust me, or confident that I would fail. The stiff set of his shoulders told me he knew the risk.

I sat down beside him, linking my fingers through his and pulling them into my lap. "Sorry," I blurted out, not even sure what I was apologising for. "I don't know what came over me."

He glanced at me sidelong. "So you weren't trying to get back at Nate and make him jealous?"

"No," I said hotly. A little too quickly. "I'm just warm from dancing. It's making me feel light headed."

"Right," he said, looking pointedly at the goosebumps on my shoulders.

I scowled, rubbing my left arm as I stared out across the sea. So much potential,  I thought, trying to hook up to the calm scene before me. The shush of the waves should have spilled through my blood like ketamine, but instead it just made me angrier. I'll never get to realise any of it.