His Fierce Lycan Luna: A Dark Fantasy Romance

GANNON

The steering wheel is cool beneath my palms as I navigate the forested road. Trees, tall and sturdy, flank the path. In the passenger seat, Abbie’s outline is motionless against the window, her reflection ghostly as she watches the world speeding by.

I steal a glance in her direction, noting the distant look that clouds her eyes—dulled by shadows I cannot chase away. The silence between us isn’t empty; it’s laden with the weight of unsaid words, echoes of her pain that neither of us can voice. I grip the wheel a tad tighter, my knuckles betraying the concern etched within me.

I can tell she’s lost in her thoughts, probably replaying the horrors she’s endured. It’s why I’m doing this—taking her away from the castle, from all the memories that haunt her. She needs this break, a chance to breathe, even if she doesn’t realize it yet.

We’re heading to a secluded cabin I know about, a place used as a safe house in case of emergencies. It’s far from everything, surrounded by nothing but nature. I figure it’s the perfect spot for Abbie to find some peace, even if it’s just for a little while.

“Almost there,” I murmur, more to myself than to Abbie, though I hope the words might bring her back to the present. The tires crunch over the gravel as I pull into the last grocery store before we head out to the cabin. Abbie, however, refuses to come in with me and waits in the car.

The bell above the grocery store door jingles as I push it open, stepping into the muted fluorescent lights that flicker casting long shadows between the aisles. The familiar scent of polished floors and fresh produce greets me. I grab a basket.

Each item found its way into the basket with a soft thud—bread, cheese, cans of soup. My mind, however, lingers on Abbie’s quiet presence waiting in the car. When I passed the candy aisle, a flash of red catches my eye. I pause, my gaze fixing on the strawberry cloud candies snug between bags of chocolate. They are her favorite; little sugary puffs that might sweeten the bitterness life had dealt her lately or so I hope. I pick up two bags, tossing them into the basket.

Ten minutes later, the cabin comes into view. As we draw nearer, I steal a glance at Abbie. Her eyes wide and watchful—beautiful and wary.

“Abbie,” I break the silence as I park the car, “you’re safe with me.” I turn off the engine, letting the weight of assurance settle over my words. “There’s no one around for miles. This is a safe place.”

Her eyes flicker to mine, searching for the truth in them, seeking the promise of safety I desperately want to give her. I reach into the back to retrieve the groceries.

Stepping out of the car, I close the door with a soft thud, studying Abbie. She nods in response to my promise,