The Nameless Luna – Book Three: For Her, He Falls

‘I would never threaten you,’ I repeat, trying to keep my voice from cracking even as tears sting my eyes. ‘How could I? I have nothing to threaten you with. I hold no power over you. I possess nothing that you desire. I don’t have a bargain or a weapon or a trick I can use against you. Even if I did, I don’t want to. I didn’t come here to fight you or command you or even to beg at your feet.’
I feel Selene’s hollow gaze following a tear that rolls down my cheek as I walk toward her.
‘Then why did you come to me, Iris, daughter of moon and blood?’
When I was locked away in that basement for all those years, I found solace in a forgotten book. I didn’t even know it was my mother’s, but it made me feel less alone. Perhaps now I can do the same for this woman standing before me, with all her terrible beauty and unspeakable magic.
‘I’m here to tell you a story. My story,’ I tell her slowly. ‘All I have for you are the beliefs that were shaped by my past and my hope that I still have for the future. If you’ll allow it, I’d like to share those with you.’
She watches me carefully, and though her eyes remain voids of starlight, I can almost see the surprise there. After a moment, she nods.
I walk toward her, where she remains by the window. Outside, I catch a glimpse of seas of stardust and faraway worlds, but I quickly look away. For some reason, I get the sense that such a view is not meant for mortal eyes, and if I look out for too long, the sight would burn away my eyes.
Instead, I sit on the little ledge by the window where I’d curled up so many times to look up at the moon. But this time, she looks back at me. The moon looks back at me and listens.
I tell her the story of the nameless Luna, of the lost little girl who found herself when she fell in love with a king. The words spill out of me and fill the space between us, bridging our differences. Her face remains impassive the entire time, but I keep going. I tell her about all the unspeakable things Oscar and his goons did to me, and for once, I hold nothing back, bearing each and every one of my scars. I tell her things I would never tell my mother, or my mate, for fear of causing them sorrow.
Considering she’s the Goddess, I skip over the details and technicalities of everything that happened. She knows that already. I don’t need to tell her all the facts and figures; I want to tell her how it felt.
I don’t know how long I talk. Time seems to flow differently here… wherever here may be. When I’m finished, we remain in silence, and I look at her in a fruitless attempt to guess what she’s thinking.
I understand that it is her role to protect the balance of nature, but I truly believe that the love between my parents, and my entire existence for that matter, is not an offense to what she stands for. After all, what is more natural in this universe than change?
‘I know I’m young,’ I say after an immeasurable stretch of silence has passed. ‘But I have seen kingdoms fall and legends come to life. Enemies can become lovers, Alphas can become ash, and a flower can grow enough to reach the moon. I have to believe that curses can be broken, and gods can forgive what they did not understand. I know they can. And you should. Because the world is changing, my lady. You can either change with it, or you can get left behind.’
She quirks her head to the side ever so slightly, and I can’t tell if I’ve amused or offended her.
‘And that is not a threat,’ I add quickly. ‘It’s the truth. Nothing stays the same, and if there was ever a single thing in existence worth changing for, it’s love.’
I turn slightly on the ledge so my back is to the window and face her directly. Maybe I can prove it to her.
‘You marked my heart and stopped it, but look inside of it now,’ I tell her. ‘Look inside me and see my truth.’
After a pause, the Goddess raises her hand and lets it hover just over my chest. Up close, her opalescent skin shimmers softly, and I can’t help but wonder if she’s actually solid. Her palm lingers a few inches away from me, and I feel the faintest tingling sensation around my heart. For a moment, I wonder if I’m imagining it, but then it’s gone.
My brows shoot up in surprise as I glance back up at the Goddess and find something fond tugging at the corners of her lips. Her smile is the loveliest thing I’ve ever seen, but before I can really focus on it, the Goddess’s hand presses against my chest.
I gulp at the contact, half-expecting her to be intangible, but her touch is firm and sudden. It feels far harder than it should as if she’d slammed her palm against me at full force rather than simply raised it and laid it softly over my heart. It knocks the air out of my lungs, though I’m vaguely aware of the fact that if my heart wasn’t beating, I probably shouldn’t be breathing either.
My head spins, and I feel myself fall backward, the world toppling around me. Behind me, there is no shattering window and no glass to support me or prevent me from dropping back and tumbling out the window. The next thing I know, I’m falling.
Did I just get pushed out a window by an ancient deity?
I don’t have time to wonder. I don’t even have time to scream. The world flies past me, flooding my senses as I fall. I get flashes of memories, dreams, wishes, ideas, and everything in between, and I wonder if this is what Alice felt like when she fell down the rabbit hole. Down and down I descend, too fast to think, feel, or react. There is only the fall.
And then there is the end of it.
I flinch at the sudden feeling of something solid beneath me, but it doesn’t hurt. Gasping, I lurch forward, sitting up way too quickly, only to have a wave of dizziness pull me back down as I blink a few times, clearing my vision.
I’m staring up at the ceiling of my bedroom in the nightwalker’s castle, panting for air as my head flops back on the pillow. Everything is too bright and colorful compared to the soft and cohesive white glow of that other place. There are hands on my shoulders, and as some of the fogginess clears, I realize that someone is calling out my name.
Tristan appears, filling my field of vision as he looms over me, his hands brushing some of the hair out of my face as I suck in a shaky breath.
‘Iris! Iris, you’re okay. It’s alright. I’m here. I’m right here. You’re safe. Just stay with me.’
I want to tell him that I have never been so happy to see anyone in my entire life. I want to tell him that I love him more than anything and that I told the Goddess as much before she shoved me out of a magical window. Instead, a single word slips past my lips, raspy and haggard:
‘Ow.’
There’s a tightness in my chest that feels decidedly unmagical. Tristan chuckles as I pout, wincing at the discomfort all over my body. I look over at him, and my eyes widen when I see that behind the affectionate laughter, he’s in tears.
‘Hey,’ I mumble, groggily reaching for his hand. He catches mine in his and brings it to his lips to kiss the backs of my knuckles. ‘Why are you crying?’
He shuffles on the bed, lying down beside me as I curl up against him, instinctively seeking the comfort of his skin against mine as I try to chase away the soreness clinging to my bones.
‘I thought I lost you,’ he whispers, wrapping his strong arms around me.
‘I’m right here.’ I feel drowsy and dopey, but I’m here. He feels solid and warm against me.
Real. This is real. I’m alive. I’m here with him.
‘My chest hurts,’ I groan, absently rubbing at the spot over my heart. I feel like I’ve been punched.
‘Sorry about that,’ Tristan says, and I frown.
‘What do you mean?’
‘You passed out, Iris. Your heart stopped beating. I gave you chest compressions and mouth-to-mouth to try and bring you back, but you were… you were dead,’ he explains, his voice catching as if the word physically pained him.
Wait.
I close my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose as my thoughts start to
come into focus. Tristan rubs my shoulder, massaging some of the tension as I raise a hand to my chest.
The thing that restarted my heart… was it the Goddess’s touch or my mate’s? The pain in my sternum from Tristan’s chest compressions feels far more solid and plausible than the hazy memory of a woman made of moonlight. Already it’s starting to fade from my mind, and trying to picture her is like trying to remember a dream after sleep has worn off.
‘Can you check for me?’ I ask Tristan with my eyes still closed. I’m too nervous to look.
Tristan’s laugh rumbles against me before he replies, his voice still giddy with relief as his other hand lands gently on top of my own, resting reassuringly over my heart.
‘You’re awake now, my little flower. I think that means your heart is beating again.’
‘No, not my heart,’ I shake my head, finally opening my eyes to meet his. ‘The crescent mark.’
The curse… is it still there?