Chapter 172: The War He Couldn’t Win Against His Luna
"Emma... what did you say?" Elara’s voice came through, shaky.
Her fingers paused midair. The chamber went still.
A grin tugged at her lips. "They’re still talking."
"What do you mean you drove him away and not him?" Elara’s voice crackled through the device.
Emma leaned back against the headboard, fingers tightening around her device.
"I mean I pushed him away with the way I acted."
"You sure it won’t turn into a fight?"
"It won’t." Emma leaned against the headboard.
"Where are you?"
"One of the panic chambers. Are you coming?"
"I’m on my way."
She dropped the remote and left the chamber. Her steps echoed softly as she headed down the long hallway leading to the panic chambers. Since she mated with Brandon, she hadn’t bothered checking them out.
She’d never even seen what was inside.
She stopped at the first chamber and stepped onto the sensor pad. A low mechanical sound followed, and the wall split apart.
Darkness greeted her.
"Elara?" she called, peeking inside.
No answer.
The wall slid shut again the moment she stepped back.
She moved to the second chamber. The wall opened slowly, and this time she found Elara standing quietly behind the glass window, staring out at the lake.
"Are they fighting?" she asked again.
"Easy, Elara. They won’t fight."
"He keeps hitting him." Elara pressed a hand to her chest. "And every time he does, I feel sick."
"Nothing’s going to happen. I’ll handle it." She moved to Elara’s side, both of them staring out at the lake. The trees swayed gently around the water, their leaves rustling in the moonfall breeze.
The door suddenly slid open behind them.
They both turned.
Brandon stood there, his jaw tight, his eyes fixed on them.
"Go, Elara," Emma said softly.
Elara hurried past him with her head down.
Brandon turned to Emma. His boots hit the floor hard as he crossed the chamber and stopped right in front of her. Sweat clung to his shirt, and his chest rose fast from barely controlled anger.
"Did you tell them to go ahead with this?"
"Yes."
"Emma..." He shut his eyes for a second and dragged a rough hand down his face. When he looked at her again, the anger was still there, but it wavered the moment his eyes met hers. "She’s a princess. The kingdom’s first female pup." His voice sharpened anyway. "And Bernard?" He let out a short breath and shook his head. "Bernard can’t fight the king."
He paced away from her, then turned back almost immediately like he couldn’t stay far for long.
"And you..." His jaw tightened. "You keep throwing yourself into things like this without thinking about what could happen to you." The words came out harsh, but his hand twitched at his side like he wanted to reach for her instead.
"She’s a princess, and she has feelings too," Emma said softly. "Please... we need your support."
Brandon let out a sharp laugh that held no humor.
"Are you seriously using my feelings for you against me?" His voice rose as he stepped closer. "Answer me, Emma."
Her fingers tightened around the edge of her shirt. She shook her head quickly.
"You know that’s not true..."
His jaw flexed.
"You’re really testing me, Mrs. Frostbane."
The words landed hard.
Emma looked up slowly. Brandon only used their surname when he was furious. Usually, there was always warmth in his eyes, even when he argued with her. Now, his stare was hard enough to make her chest tighten.
"I hate what you’re doing to me," he muttered, dragging both hands through his hair. "You know you’re my heartbeat, and I can’t deny you anything."
He turned and strode to the window, breathing hard. A second later, he whipped back around, eyes locked on her like a wolf closing in on its prey.
Before Emma could speak, his hand cupped her face and his mouth crashed onto hers.
The kiss was rough, angry, and desperate.
Emma grabbed his arm when her breath thinned, trying to pull back, but Brandon only held her closer. His fingers pressed against her waist as he kissed her again and again like he had too much bottled inside him.
He lifted her easily and laid her on the bed.
Emma blinked against the softness beneath her and frowned between breaths.
"What kind of bed is this?" she mumbled.
Brandon ignored the question completely. He caught her lips again, harder this time, and Emma’s fingers slid into his shirt as she kissed him back with the same hunger.
"I’m not afraid of you, you know?" Emma said, holding his gaze.
His stare lingered on her face. Then he looked away for a second, like he needed space to breathe.
"You say that too easily," he murmured, leaning a little closer, then stopping himself.
She lay still beneath him, eyes locked on his angry face, breath uneven. Something in her didn’t pull away. If anything, it drew her closer.
He grabbed her clothes and shoved them aside, rough, impatient. His jaw stayed tight as he looked at her, like he was fighting something inside himself.
She didn’t flinch. Didn’t look away. Her gaze stayed steady on him, like she was waiting for him to give in.
For a moment, he didn’t move.
Then he turned her over gently but firmly, his grip still tense. His breathing was heavy at first, uneven... then slowly it started to calm as he stayed close, the anger in him fading little by little.
And the silence between them shifted—no longer sharp, but something deeper, heavier, harder to name.
She held the pillows so tight because he was tickling her. She had goosebumps all over her skin. She tightened her grip when she felt the hotness of his breath slowly ascending the hollows of her back. He rubbed his soft palm on her back, butt, and thighs. She wriggled and buried her face in the bed as she ached for his full girth inside her.
As though he knew what she wanted, he whirled her around again. She began to brush her breasts across his face. She wanted him to take one of her slaying breasts into his mouth. He stared at them and brought his mouth closer. She let out a moan. He took her nîpple in his mouth and fondled her left breast aggressively with his right palm. He was quite rough and she totally loved it.
She curled up her legs on his back as she ached for a resounding thrust from him.
Brandon’s tongue left her nîpples yearning for more as he made his way down.
He lowered his head between her thighs, and the first brush of his lips stole the air from her lungs. A soft gasp slipped out when his tongue found her, slow at first, then teasing enough to make her fingers tighten in the sheets. Heat rushed through her so fast it left her trembling.
"Oh..." she breathed, her voice breaking as she tipped her head back.
He seemed to know exactly how to touch her, every gentle stroke pulling another shaky sound from her lips. Tears gathered in the corners of her eyes, not from pain, but from the overwhelming rush of being wanted so carefully, so completely. By the time she felt his hand slide over her trembling thigh, she was already lost in him.
He lifted her legs a little higher and pulled her closer against him, his movements growing rougher, more desperate. Soft cries slipped from both of them as the rhythm between them deepened, matching exactly what she needed from him. Heat rushed through her body in waves, leaving her trembling with feelings so intense they caught her off guard.
She clutched at him, breath shaking, while quiet whimpers kept spilling from her lips.
"I want to die for you," she whispered.
Her hand stayed on his face, fingers lingering at his jaw as she searched his eyes.
He didn’t look away.
Time blurred between them—too close, too much, like neither of them knew where the line was anymore.
When she finally shifted back, her hand pressed lightly against his chest, trying to create space. He didn’t let much of it happen. Not fully.
His grip tightened for a second, then eased, like he was forcing himself to slow down.
He leaned in anyway, mouth near her ear, his breath warm against her skin as he said something only she could hear.
He let out a slow breath through his nose. His gaze dropped for a second, then lifted back to hers.
His thumb stayed against her skin a little longer than it should’ve.
"You’re my weakness," he murmured. His jaw tightened, then loosened again. "I never win when it comes to you."You’re just made for me, moonheart." She smiled and he smiled too.
"What kind of bed is this?"
"It is called ’water bed’, moonheart," he grinned and pulled himself out.
"Oh," she said and examined the bed again.
"We have made love in almost all the chambers in this house."
"It’s our house," he responded, pulling her in for a cuddle.
"Are you going to support us?"
Brandon didn’t answer right away. His fingers moved slowly through her hair, almost absentminded.
Then he exhaled, low.
"I don’t want to talk about it," he said. His grip tightened just a little before easing again.
"She lifted a shoulder and looked away. "This Moonfall, I’m just gonna act like I never heard a thing."
His gaze dropped for a second, then returned to her face.
"He’s not traveling with us anymore."
Emma didn’t blink. She lifted her gaze to him, calm and steady, like she already knew what he was going to say.
"You don’t get to decide that alone."
