Luna Ascending (The Wolves of Fenrir Watch Book 1)

by Zana Wilder

  The more time I spend with him, the more I realise that he's really trying to help me make the best of myself. That, and he turned the charm on – started referring to me as his girlfriend without us really having 'that conversation'. But, he's a stable force when everything else is the unknown, and that has to be far better that trying to figure this shit out on my own.

  I keep hearing Aaron's words over and over in my head – calling me a witch, and telling me to go back to the Coven – I was so upset at the time I didn't question how odd the words themselves were. He must have realised what I was, before I did... not that it matters, the revelation seemed to spark only pure hatred. I feel even more alone when I remember our argument, I have to stop thinking about Aaron. He hates me, and I've moved on.

  In the past few weeks Marc’s whisked me off to some romantic spots that are truly astonishing. His plans are so last minute that I've cancelled several meet ups with Liz.

  I think I was almost glad - I don't really know what I'm going to say to her. I hate that our friendship is waning. I need to make more effort. Marc thinks that some friendships just don't go the distance, and that making new friends within the Coven would be better for me.

  I guess he's right, but it feels like such a wrench – we've been friends for so long, and from such different backgrounds to begin with. I can't give up on her just yet.

  Sometimes when Marc leaves me alone for a while in the new apartment, with nothing much to do for myself (we have people for that – I already hate that phrase!) I start to nitpick, remembering all the things that annoy me about him. His overbearing attitude, the number of decisions he makes for me, the fact I'm now stuck here with nothing to do but study and wait for him to come home. We decided in the end it was going to be too risky for me to go back to school given all the surges that had already happened there. I hate being stuck here, reliant on him!

  I'm here, all day, with the driest of dry books on the history of witches and a few plants for company. Marc obviously has his role in the family business to take care of, but still it grates on me, especially when he's away for days at a time. It's just loneliness, but it sucks. It has to be loneliness, because as soon as he steps over the threshold, it all melts away. None of the things I've spent the past days griping to myself about seem to matter any more. Maybe, I'm growing up. This isn't some silly school-girl style crush or infatuation – we're managing to put aside our differences and are compromising to be together.

  Sometimes when I'm alone though I get this nagging doubt about Marc and I – things are all moving just a bit fast. The Freya of three months ago hated this guy touching her...

  Chapter Eighteen

  Freya's POV

  “But are you happy?!” Liz demands stamping her foot on the creaking oak floor of our favourite book store and cafe.

  “Yes, of course!” I snap, pissed off that my much missed, best and only friend can't just seem pleased for me.

  “What the hell else could anyone want in a man... handsome, a body to die for, intelligent, loaded and a family of aristocrats...” I grumble on ignoring Liz' arched eyebrow “Liz, it's like a fairy-tale for someone who grew up like I did – flitting from one decaying council house to the next, with a mum so sloshed she forgot I was there half the time and a dad who never worked and definitely never cared.”

  Liz looks contrite but I plough on, now I've started my tongue won’t stop.

  “You've not lived what I lived. The choice was light or heating. We nursed our electricity meter through each day. Us kids were the ones that topped it up with money from our Saturday jobs, if mum hadn't drunk that away already. I was that dirty, smelly kid in school. You know, the one that no-one wants to be friends with, 'cause there wasn't hot water to wash.”

  I catch my breath. “I live my adult life estranged from the only family I have simply because I hold down a job and pay my rent. They resent it – they assume I think I'm 'better than them', and they hate me for it.”

  “I’m sorry Freya. I didn’t mean to upset you..”

  “You don't live expecting the phone to ring any day with news that your mum's drunk herself to death, or that your dad’s bled out in a gutter after a bar fight. You don't have the constant worry that someday the police will call, to say your brother's stabbed someone, again. Your sister, with her stupid big hooped earrings and tarty skirts, hasn't had half the town in her bed and the other half hasn’t had her up against the wall around the back of the bloody bingo hall.” I sob, stopping only because I've run out of breath, and because Liz is choking me in a massive hug.

  “It's my chance Liz” I hiccup “It's my chance to get out”.

  “But, you were already out Freya. You were doing it by yourself...You know you were.” Liz starts, before thinking better of it.

  To my relief she clamps her jaw shut on her opinions of 'Marciel', as she calls him, and just concentrates on cheering me up. Hot chocolate, books and mundane chatter about her romantic antics feature highly in the next half hour.

  Her change of tact is a relief, but I can't help beating myself up over having had a massive go at my best friend and spilling my guts about some very private parts of my life. I'd never made a secret about having a crappy childhood but I've never gone into any of the grubby grimy details before. I've shocked her.

  We salvage an enjoyable couple of hours before I have to leave to be back home before Marc. Liz fires off a parting shot that has me narrowing my eyes. I take a deep breath and decided to let it go. It echoes around in my head all the way back to the apartment though...

  “Just make sure that man of yours is nothing like his family before you go falling head over heels for him.”

  Slipping into the flat I'm relieved to be back before Marc. Humming away happily from an afternoon spent in good company I put my new books on the starched white of the bookshelf in the minimalistic living room. I haven't seen anyone except Marc and his family for weeks, and seeing Liz, and getting out of my own head for a bit is reviving.

  Liz's gossip about her own relationship has got me feeling guilty I've not 'moved things on' with Marc. We've not gone beyond kissing and a little heavy petting... and I can tell Marc's getting impatient. I toy with ideas of how to get myself in the mood.

  There's not really any excuse I can think of as to why I'm not leaping into bed with him. He's intelligent, powerful, rich, very good looking, and being exceptionally patient with me. It feels daft but, when I'm alone, I'm still far more turned on by the thought of Aaron. The Aaron who now pretends I don't exist. I have to forget about him, and concentrate on my new relationship.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Freya's POV

  When Marc whisks me away on a romantic dinner-date my spidey senses tell me something is different tonight. He insists we dress formally, despite assuring me it will be only us. Arriving at our destination my jaw hits the floor – dinner is on board a yacht.

  The water rocks her gently against the pier and hundreds, maybe thousands, of tiny lights litter the rigging, sparkling against the night sky. On the deck rose petals blow in circles in the light breeze.

  I gulp as I let Marc help me on board, trying not to be unnerved by the vast expanse of water. There's just myself and Marc as patrons, although a few wait staff lurk in the background. It's such a beautiful setting. In a corner a sole cellist starts an achingly beautiful tune while the Maitre D' sits us cordially at the only table on deck.

  Marc's hands reach for mine across the table and I'm aware of a cool shiver just before we touch. His amber eyes are virtually glowing in the darkness and I can feel him looking me up and down, from head to toe, slowly taking his time.

  “You know I want the very best for you, Freya” he begins “the best place for you is where you belong, right by my side, in the heart of our Coven”

  I don't even see him move but suddenly there's an exquisitely decorated box in his hand, and nestling inside an ethereal looking ring.

  “Will you marry me?”


  It's sudden, unexpected and vanity provoking, and I realise in a split second that I'm really not sure about this. I'm not sure about us. I haven't thought of an answer, never mind opened my mouth, when he slips the ring on my finger.

  Looking down at it, glinting mysteriously on my finger, and then into his eyes, I suddenly know the answer. I know with an astounding clarity, lacking only milliseconds before, that this is what I want. This is what I need.

  “Yes” I breath leaning in to him as the yacht staff set off a riot of fireworks in the background. Everything about the evening seems just magical, I can't believe it's all for me.

  With a ring on my finger and my future with Marc decided, he makes it very plain that tonight, we are taking things into the bedroom.

  As we step in the apartment door, I feel a possessive hand on the back of my neck.

  “It's time I make you mine babydoll”

  The nickname grates on me but I let it go, after-all he's waited months for me. His hand slides up my neck and grabs my hair giving it a tug and making me gasp.

  “I'm going to fuck you hard and rough for making me wait”.

  I gulp at the gleam in his eyes. I'm no virgin, but my sex life has been pretty mundane. I have a feeling that's not what Marc has in mind for tonight. He hands me some lingerie tells me to make myself ready, quickly. I blush just looking at it... there's nothing to it, just a lacy slip of material in the form of crotchless panties, a pair of suspenders and fishnet stockings and a bra that's literally just all straps. This stuff wouldn't look out of place in a bondage movie. I glance at him uncertainly and he growls

  “Don't make me wait any longer babydoll. The longer I wait, the more punishment you get”

  Um. What? I quickly scoot into the en-suite and slightly reluctantly put the lingerie on. This is what I want, right? I mean I DO want Marc and this life. I'm just a little nervous that's all.

  As I step into the bedroom Marc's eyes roam up and down my body hungrily. I look at him standing in front of me, all muscle and raw desire. He's stripped to his boxers already, and I can see he's hard.

  He stalks over to me and kisses me roughly, one hand cupping my breasts, and the other clutching my ass. His mouth moves down my neck to my chest, and he takes a nipple between his teeth grazing it, making me suck my breath in. His hands play with the top of my panties, gently teasing me before suddenly smacking my ass hard. I yelp, and he grins at me.

  “I'm going to make you squeal way louder than that tonight babydoll.”

  Marc pulls me roughly toward the bed and in one fluid movement bends me over so my ass is in the air and my chest is resting on the covers. I feel naked. That's stupid, I am pretty much naked. I feel vulnerable, with my ass in the air. I try to slide forward onto the bed but he stops me.

  “Uh uh babydoll, I want you standing, bent over for me. Tonight you do what I say, when I say, and you take my punishment for making me wait for so long for you, for making my cock so hard it aches”

  A hand slaps my ass again making me take a startled breath in. Marc shoves a knee between my legs and spreads them wider. I feel his cock push against my back briefly before he smacks me between my thighs. My pussy tightens in surprise.

  “Marc!”

  “Just take your punishment, and shut up” he growls slapping my pussy again.

  He teases my clit with his fingers and immediately I feel heat between my legs. I'm not sure my brain's into this pain and pleasure thing, but my body's responding. Marc feels me getting wet and seems pleased with himself

  “Is that just for me babydoll? Tell me you're wet just for me”

  He tugs my head back towards him, pulling on my hair.

  “It's just for you Marc” I gasp

  He shoves me forward again and without warning spins me around to face him, slapping my face with his dick. He pushes his dick so far in my mouth I think I'm going to choke.

  He just laughs as I splutter, and places a hand behind my head, moving me rhythmically up and down on his shaft. I've not given head before and he's rough, I can't help gagging. His whole body tenses suddenly and he holds me still by my hair, before giving a jerk and coming in my mouth. He withdraws and stares at me.

  “Swallow” he commands sternly.

  He watches me swallow it down, before making me lick the last off his dick. I feel vaguely humiliated as he watches me with an expressionless face. I think stupidly we might be done, but he scoops me up like I weigh nothing and throws me back onto the bed. His fingers tease my clit making my pussy feel like its on fire.

  “Tell me you want me, tell me you'll let me do anything I want”

  “ I... I want you Marc” I breath

  He teases then twists a nipple... “and the rest babydoll...” he growls, almost menacing.

  “I.... I'll let you do anything”

  He seems satisfied with the answer, and pins me to the bed, kissing me hard. I feel his rock hard abs tight against me and his overwhelming musky smell surrounds me.

  With a wicked smile, he pulls a pair of handcuffs from under the pillows and grabs my wrists. While still pinning the rest of me down he hitches my wrists to the bedpost.

  Now I feel very vulnerable. He slowly works his way down my body nipping my skin with his teeth, making me squeak. When he gets to my burning clit he gives it a quick flick with his tongue then slaps it. It hurts, but my whole body tingles.

  He rocks forwards, pressing his dick against my opening and in one fluid movement enters me. I feel my vagina contract, shocked at his girth. He doesn't wait for me to get used to his size, but starts slamming into me so hard I'm sure the bed is going to break. As my body gets used to him he finds my G-spot and I feel the heat welling up inside me, I can't hold it much longer.

  “Not yet” Marc instructs “you only get to come when I say so”

  I nod in submission, panting. He fingers my clit, and teases my nipples while fucking me hard. I feel like I'm going to explode.

  “Please Marc... please”

  “Okay babydoll, come for me now, come hard”

  A shudder rips through my whole body with the release. For a moment he just watches me and I sigh with relief – I'm not sure how much more punishment I could take. But we're not done, he's far from done.

  Suddenly he rolls me over onto my hands and knees, still tied to the headboard. His finger plays with my asshole and I let out a squeak and move away. He drags me back towards him, laughing.

  “Uh uh babydoll... everything's on the table, remember? You made me wait... now you get punished”

  I feel a goblet of spit run down my ass crack and alarmingly his dick presses against my asshole.

  “No.... Marc...” I try to protest and wriggle away. I'm rewarded with a sharp smack to my butt cheek as punishment before his dick pushes its way into my ass making me cry out. This time he does give me time to accommodate him, growling at me to relax. My ass is screaming at me, it hurts. As much as I try to relax I can feel the muscles tightening.

  “Mmm babydoll, you're so tight, and it's all mine” Marc starts slowly moving in and out and playing with my nipples at the same time. I think I can cope with it until he looses control and starts rocking hard and faster until he's slamming into me while pulling hard on my hair.

  “Marc, please... “ I whimper

  He lets out a growl and comes violently in my ass, holding me still on him for a minute after he's done. He pulls out, undoes the handcuffs, flips me over and looks expectantly at me...

  “Clean it up” he grins in my face. I look around for something to wipe his dick with and he laughs “with your mouth” he says slyly.

  I eye his dick briefly – it's just been up my ass...

  “Unless you want to go for another round of ass fucking?”

  I grab his dick quickly and lick off the cum trying not to gag as he watches me silently.

  “Good girl. Go and clean yourself up now and we can sleep. You'll need some rest before we go again in the morning”

 
Chapter Twenty

  Freya's POV

  By the time I finally catch up with Liz again, the engagement's been a thing for several weeks, and some of the shine has worn off. I'm pretty reticent to tell her right now, I really don't think I can hack more warnings about the family I'm marrying into. Or questions about how we're getting on. I'll tell her of course, just not right now – we get such little time together, I don't want to spoil it.

  Luckily Liz is easily distracted by her own love life. She's busily describing everything as 'magical' when my mouth opens and words fall out I definitely had not planned.

  “Speaking of magical Liz” I steer the conversation clumsily “if you had a friend who really, truly believed they were a witch. Would you think she was crazy? I have this friend, and she seems perfectly sane and sensible, except she's adamant that she's a witch...” I trail off seeing Liz peering at me.

  “For a start,” Liz cackles “you don't have any other friends, so you're talking about yourself, right?!”

  She takes a big swig of coffee and grins mischievously at me. My friend's mirth is contagious and she's too accurate. I burst out laughing, stopping abruptly as my nerves rise. What if Liz thinks I'm nuts? What on earth made me bring this up? Can I just joke the conversation away?

  Liz's manicured nails tap the rim of her mug, and her next words throw me such a curve ball that I could pinch myself to try and wake up.

  “I know you're a witch” she says, matter of factly; no hesitation, no doubt, like she's just stating a widely known truth. "I didn't for a long time, but ... something about you changed recently - it's way more obvious now."

  I blink. I open my mouth, then shut it again. Time seems to hang still.

  “I... I wanted to tell you Liz” I gabble, apologising “ I just didn't know it myself until a few months ago, then.. I didn't know how..”