THE LUNA'S TATTOOS

Olivia's Pov:

I barely had time to brace for it before his fist nearly snapped my neck in two with a gut-wrenching blow as I fell hard to the ground, tears welling on my face.

"You stupid bitch!", he yelled, his face contorted with rage. He was in one of his moods again, the occasional periods where his wolf starts to lose control and he tears up anything in his way, more than often, I'm usually the one in the way of his tantrums.

My hands shook violently as the porcelain cup in my hands hit the ground, shattering to pieces in an echoing screech.

At the sound, Lucien lunged for me, his foot stamping hard at my ribs knocking the air out of me. I gasped as I struggled to breathe, my small hands tightening around my chest, but he wasn't done.

He grabbed me from the marble floor, throwing me on top of the dining table, his fists balled, eyebrows scrunched in seething anger. Each blow punctuated his lupine rage; he wasn't going to stop; he just kept hitting me across the face as panic suddenly hit me.

He was going to kill me right here, right now; he wasn't himself anymore.

"Stop." I whimpered silently, but he wasn't even listening.

Suddenly, adrenaline coursed all over me; I wasn't going to die in this pathetic manner; I wasn't going to die when I had more important things to be done.

My hands found a fork lying around on the table. Just as he raised his fists to hit my face again, I lashed out in fury, slashing across his left eye in a bolt of raw defiance, blood splotching across my face.

He stumbled back in shock, cradling his wounded eye, a deep bleeding gash running from across his eyebrows to his cheekbones.

I yelled back at him in a mixture of fury and fear as his mind back to normalcy, his face contorting in grief as he realized what he had done.

"I'm sorry Olivia", he winced, " I didn't mean to hurt you "

Just as I sighed in relief, my face aching, his spine snapped without a dreadful sound, his muscles rippling beneath his skin as if alive and being drawn by an unseen force. He dropped to his knees, his bones cracking and stretching as a primal growl resounded through my bones.

Oh God, he was going to lose control again. I didn't wait for it; I bolted as fast as I could out of the room, a howl behind me made the hair at the back of my neck rise.

I winced as Nana gently wiped the blood off my battered face, her frowns deepening as she handed me a small mirror, her gnarled fingers trembling slightly.

The kitchen was dimly lit, the air filled with a thick silence punctuated only by my wincing and the old woman mumbling about how damaged my face was

My raven hair had small splotches of blood and my face was a canvas of bruises, swollen and discolored, not only from today's surge of beatings but from two years of regular beatings. Blood seeped from a cut above my brow, dripping onto the floor beneath me.

"I still wonder why you haven't left," Nana groaned as she wiped the wound clean, "you have a family."

" No, I don't, "I muttered, wriggling my fingers nervously," My mother is dead, you know that; my father probably doesn't care, and my stepmother doesn't even hide her hate for me, I would be leaving to nothing."

" Still, you could just leave; you don't have anyone to for you to have a life, "she snorted as she leaned against the door, staring at me like I was a wounded animal.

" I don't want to leave New Orleans, and I can't get divorced since you know how shameful getting divorced is for werewolves, I would be the shame of my clan. "

" So you would rather die at his hands? ", she asked sternly.

"It's not his fault; all Lycans are like that".

"That doesn't mean shit," she snapped. "He's going to lose control and snap your neck one of these days; pathetically, you are just a .. ".

" Average rate omega," I smiled slightly," yeah, I know that. "

" Bonding season is in just two months; you could find someone else," concern started to cloud her voice.

I laughed," What if I end up bonding with someone worse than him, another Lycan".

" A bond is stronger than you think; it's stronger than love itself; you would be happy, "she said," like I was." she raised her skirt, showing me a faded tattoo of a giant black wolf, her bond mark.

I tried for three years to find a mate before my father got tired of my presence and married me off to Lucien, an unbounded Lycan adopted into one of the nine aristocraté families.

I sighed," I don't think the result would change; my mate probably doesn't exist or hasn't been born yet."

Lucien suddenly appeared in front of the kitchen, Nana flinched at the sound of him clearing his voice. We hadn't noticed him at all.

The gash I inflicted on him was surprisingly still there, no longer bleeding but the scar remained there, ruining his face. My wolf growled upon sensing his presence, Aria hated his guts.

He glanced nervously at me before muttering, "Your father's here, and he wants to see you."

My father.

My heart jumped, if my father is here, it's not anything good. He had refused to see me since my marriage with Lucien, since the first time Lucien had lost control, he needed the connections my marriage gave to him, but he was too cowardly to even see me.

If he was here, it was something either very bad or very good.

I nodded briskly at Nana before following Lucien out of the kitchen, the passage walls adorned with faded portraits.

Just as we were about to walk into his study room, he turned back sharply toward me, his gaze masked with grief.

"I am sorry for hurting you yet again," he said quietly, his hands nervously fiddling with his cuff links.

"Always the same pleading", I sighed as I stepped into the study.

"There you are", he sighed as he looked me over. Lucien slinked to a corner of the room, his burly arms folded.

" Your husband informed me that he lost control yet again ", he rasped as he turned his back, continuing to browse the shelves.

"Since when did you care? "I muttered, glancing at Lucien, who looked away for some weird reason. I was beginning to wonder what the hell was going on.

I swallowed nervously.

"You attacked him even though you know the Lycan laws," my father continued, "Attacking an Aristocraté is forbidden no matter what," he said, "Your husband decided to use this excuse for both of you to separate ."

I couldn't believe what I heard: divorce. Ordinarily, it would have been very good news. I endured all these years without leaving in the hope that he would eventually warm up to me, but that had been just a fantasy.

And now, the bastard wants to reject me?

"You can't be serious!", I growled at Lucien.

He sighed," It's for your safety; I can't keep hurting you, not after what happened today; you are better off without me."

" What would people say! ", I shot back angrily.

" Better that than being dead," he groaned," you don't get it; there's a reason we Lycans rarely mate; we are not the husband type."

"You would participate in this year's bonding season," my father interrupted, "hopefully you get lucky and find a mate this time around."

But I wasn't listening anymore; a huge wave of fury washed over me, and pent-up anger bubbled and rose in a rush as I snarled at Lucien.

My stomach churned; I had been rejected and now had to find a mate; having failed thrice, my chances were quite low, I thought.

Damon's Pov:

I hate the rain, I thought as I glared out at the rain-soaked trees, droplets of water sliding down the window pane like tears.

I turned away from the downpour seeking something to distract myself with, but the cloud outside seemed to have dampened my mind as memories came rushing down to me.

Laughter, music, champagne toasts. The Wolvenstar family preferred to live within nature itself. Thus, we lived in a mansion on the outskirts of a forest. That way, whenever we shifted we could run straight into the forest, our real home.

Today was the day my eldest brother, Mark, had bonded; he laughed loudly at the head of the table as his mate, Charlotte, now Wolvenstar, smiled timidly as she sat on his lap.

Poor girl, my brother would be the death of her soon enough.

The house was two hundred years old, a legacy built on sugar and spices; their family was one of the elite of the Werewolves in New Orleans high society; they were happy , everyone feasting, clinking glasses, downing beers, yet for some reason I was sad, angry even.

The memories began to curdle like milk left too long, which was weird, I thought.

The laughter was louder, the drinking more maniac as the resounding jazz music warped into a discordant scream. I could see my family's faces begin to warp in horror as a firm hand suddenly grabbed my shoulder from behind; I turned sharply, and what I saw made my stomach churn as I stared into the eyes of some distant cousin, eyes froze in shock, blood streaming down his face like blood.

I screamed as I stumbled backward on something, not something, I realized as I fell backward on my father's body, still in wolven form, his black fur sticky with blood, his spine jutting out of his back.

Master Damon

Blood was everywhere; the crimson liquid splattered all across the marble floor like rubies on beach sand . Glass shattering around. The smell of death growing stronger.

"Master Damon!" a voice jolted me violently from my memories, I stumbled backward, gasping for air.

The rain was still heavy; the tang smell overwhelmed my senses.

My butler, Daiki loomed over me, eyes looking concerned as he handed over a small bottle of scotch to me.

Good man, I thought as I took a swig, inhaling before throwing my head backward.

"You should go out more," he muttered softly, "holing yourself in this horror would do you no good."

I sighed. The old man doesn't understand.

My very presence would send the others shivering in fright, sure Daiki doesn't mind, but I have a very bad reputation."Demon Alpha", they call me. Going out more would just make the others feel endangered; it is best to keep to myself.

"You say it like it's a bad thing", Malakai, my wolf snorted.

" I would frighten away half the city, Daiki," I laughed, "besides ,I have a meeting with the mayor tonight anyway; that's going out enough."

" Very well, " he sighed as I handed the scotch back to him," Would you be attending the bonding ceremony next week, sir? ".

My jaw dropped," I don't need a mate", I groaned.

Daiki had tried for the last five years to make me attend the yearly Lycan bonding ceremony and five times have I refused him. I was surprised he hadn't given up.

" Everyone needs a mate", he insisted as he paused at the entrance of the room.

I smiled weakly," Good thing I'm not everyone ".

The dimly lit alleyway was a contrast away from the city's bustling streets, but I preferred it that way: less attention, less screamers.

As expected, the mayor kept shivering; he y the idea of being alone with the 'Demon Alpha.' A portly man in his forties, he wiped a sheen of cold sweat on his forehead, fidgeting with his signet ring as he glanced briefly at me.

My voice was smooth and low, but I could feel his heart beat faster in fright.

"You asked to meet here, Larry".

"Yes of course ", he said as he swallowed down, trying and failing to compose himself, "It's about what you asked for the last time we spoke"

" And", I raised my brows expectantly.

" We found traces of him," the mayor started," he's been all over New Orleans; the last place he was sighted was the seventh ward; we should find him soon."

" He's throwing them off his trails," I whispered to Malakai , as I leaned against the wall, lighting up a cigarette

" Sorry? ", he asked, feeling nervous again.

" Tell your men to avoid Lakeview," I simply said, "I have a feeling he would return there".

As I started to leave, Larry grabbed me by the hand, his trembling.

I stared back at him icily, a growl emanating from my wolf through me as I glanced at where our hands met.

"I.. if.. he would be there, shou.. shouldn't we be there rather than avoiding it".

"Then you would have a lot of bodies to bury," I said as his hands dropped back at his sides," Goodbye, mayor," I muttered as I stalked off to find the first underworld around.

The underworld was strings of exclusive nightclubs for werewolves; there were places where humans wouldn't stumble into, lest they find themselves as unwilling prey. They were the most dangerous part of the city and the only place where no one would recognize me due to the body paint smudged all over our bodies. A place where I was free, where no one knows who's who, a place where I could go wild.

The nightclub pulsed with the energy of the French Quarter as I stalked in, smudging crimson paint across my face, neon lights dancing across the crowded room. With a quick stride, I swung upwards into the top box, landing lightly on my feet.

Two female werewolves, omegas, were already there kissing roughly, hands tangled tightly in each other's hair as they growled, the air thick with smoke, sweat, and perfume.

Smelling me, they paused, turning towards me, and grinning stupidly, green paint smearing their faces.

"How about you join us, darling?" one of them crooned, stroking one of her fingers with her tongue.

I grimaced, "Carry on, don't mind me at all".

The other one rose, prowling slowly towards me, "Why? You look familiar", she drawled.

I stiffened, "I suppose?".

"Big, strong Aristocraté", she continued, "Are you an Alpha?we rarely see those".

"Perhaps", I smiled, my fingers drumming sharply against the railing, as I gazed at the revelers below, their faces a kaleidoscope of colors.

Sensing my impatience, she stalked off with a snort, her lover cradling her head as they went back to their kissing.

I sighed. I was prepared to rip both throats open if they showed even a hint of recognizing who I was.

I needed a drink, I thought, and was about to drop down when I noticed her.

She was dancing without care; her raven hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall in the dark as she swung her head to the bass music, her body moving to its seductive rhythm.

Her face was smudged in paint but her blue eyes sparkled like the sea, the sea under the morning light.

She seemed unbound by anything like a free bird.

I felt a pull, an inexplicable one as if she was the very center of the world; everything else blurring.

A redhead guy walked up to her, whispering something at her which she laughed at. As he pulled her away from the dancing, I could make out bruises on her arms. They were faint, healed, but as an alpha, there were things others couldn't see that I could still notice, it was a wound by a Lycan.

Those abominations, I seethed in anger.

My hands suddenly gripped the bars of the railing in anger, so hard that they were beginning to bend and screech, my guttural snarl frightening away the kissing omegas.

Why was I angry?

I had no idea.

Olivia's Pov:

Two months. I had been divorced and for the first time in ages, I felt young and I took full advantage of it, I spent my time clubbing at night and painting at my gallery by day transferring my feelings onto canvas including my recent one being that of a dark haired Lycan, a gash tearing across one of his eyes.

Those were things that I didn't really had the time to do when I was with Lucien, he was an uptight guy who didn't really fancy the idea of his mate running around all over New Orleans. He was quite paranoid for a Lycan.

I didn't really get him, sometimes he was a sweet guy, dolling me up with presents, taking me out to see a movie once in a while, you would think he was a nearly perfect husband, but then there were the other times.

The times when he would lose control to his wolf, werewolves were supposed to control their wolves to their will, not the other way around, it wasn't exactly an easy thing to do, it had took me five years to take full control of Aria who eventually gave up, she still wouldn't speak to me though. She considered me a coward for putting up with Lucien.

Control was however a hundred times more difficult for Lycans seeing as they are not pure blooded werewolves, very few manage to do the impossible.

Tonight was the bonding ceremony. An ancient Werewolf rite that has been for centuries, where werewolves find their true love, literally.

It was a yearly ceremony that gathered werewolves from the entirety of New Orleans, both the middle class families, the Aristocraté and even the Lycans , humans who got bitten and became either adopted into one of the Werewolf families or left to fend for themselves, the latter barely lasting for months before they lose control and give into the beast in them and get eradicated by hunters.

The Bonding always took place at the French opera house since the 1900s and I was still in awe at the magnificent building even though I have seen it a couple of nights.

The moon cast it's slivery glow over the building as the air vibrated with energy as there were lots of werewolves gathering all at once.

I was accompanied by my childhood friend, Ben who he smiled widely at me, his red hair deepening as we stepped into the building.

We paused at the large staircase , it curled upwards like a swan's neck, a huge crowd murmuring in delight as they made their way into the auditorium.

The air was alive as women shone in elegant gowns , jewels flashing like fireflies as they glided up the stairs , the men trailing along in dark suits, the anticipation was thick.

About a thousand werewolves were participating in this year's bonding and every year, most finds their mate , though others like me tend to find theirs late, a rare few doesn't ever.

I sighed in dread, I definitely don't want to die without ever finding a mate, but then again, I don't really think I mind.

Ben had booked seats for us comfortably at the middle of the hall where we had to squeeze through.

"Coming through", Ben kept yelling as he tried to cut a path for us.

"Can't believe bonding is rowdy as ever", I panted as we found our seats.

"Haven't you heard?", he grinned wildly, "population's grown".

In the foyer, a string quartet started a tune as laughter and pleasantries grew louder.

"Who knows", Ben yelled over the noise, "perhaps you would be my mate this time", he grinned.

I jokingly punched him in the shoulder, "We attended bonding together for a while, you know?, if it were so, we should have bonded by now".

He gave me a weak smile. He knew about Lucian and his struggle for control, but that didn't stop him from hating him less.

" I heard the heir of the Bloodwagon family is participating in this year's bonding for the first time ",he said as the lights became dim, the quartet music growing louder over the crowd.

"Aslaug, wasn't that her name?", I asked.

"Yeah, maybe I wou..", he started.

"Fat chance", I snorted trying to stop myself from laughing.

This time he punched me in the shoulder, "don't jinx me ", he laughed , at his smile transiting into a frown, i followed his gaze towards the front rows, towards a familiar figure..

Oh hell

There he was, Lucien, he was speaking to one of his sisters whose name I had forgotten, his charming smile a stark contrast to the wolf within him .

A shiver ran down my spine even though I was rows of seats from him, memories of the good and bad times we have been together in.

My breath came in sharply, but Ben grabbed my hand.

"Breathe", he instructed as he stroked my hand gently.

I took in a deep breath as I glared at the direction of Lucian, I still hated that he rejected me, it was understandable but to have come this long.

As if sensing our gaze, he looked back , his eyes meeting mine and his smile growing into a frown. Ben held my shivering hand tighter, his warmth cascading down my fingers.

His sister said something to him, making him finally tearing his gaze, turning his back towards me.

"I heard you were rejected by the Moon blood heir", a lady about my age snickered to my right.

Ben growled, but I held him back with a hand as I smiled at the lady, her white hair adorned by what looked like flowers.

"Rejected is kind of an old fashioned word, you know", i said, "it's called divorced nowadays".

"Like it makes any difference", her voice was getting louder now as heads began to swivel towards our direction.

Stupid bitch, i thought as I balled my fists out of view, keeping my fury in check, but i wasn't going to be humiliated by someone who didn't know who i was or what i went through.

"And how's that any of your business", I shot back, my claws extending slowly.

Aria grew impatient as she grumbled about wanting to tear something up.

"You shouldn't be here", the lady sneered maliciously.

"Says who", I snorted.

"If you couldn't even maintain one marriage, what's to say....".

I was just about to force her teeth down her throat when everywhere suddenly became dead silent, even the orchestra stopped their music, terror and quick whispers filling the air.

The center of attraction was a man, who was walking down the aisle as he looked around, probably searching for his seat, totally oblivious to the dread that seemed to grip everyone.

He was probably in his early twenties, his piercing dark eyes shimmering like a void, his face like a perfectly chiseled sculpture.

"The demon Alpha", Ben whispered silently as if scared he might be heard.

I have heard of the demon alpha, thought it was a myth. A werewolf who had slaughtered his entire family line, two hundred and nine in all. The Fallenstar family were one of the nine aristocraté, they were old fashioned and lived in an extremely huge mansion at the outskirts of a sealed off forest.

Nine years ago,a night after the bonding ceremony, the demon alpha had massacred them all including his father, one of the most powerful Alphas in the City.

Not that I believed any of it, of course I knew the Fallenstars had been attacked, but to think it was the actions of a young child was preposterous.

"He looks handsome", I muttered as I stared at his face, his eyes holding a deep sadness,a hint of vulnerability , his emotions shut beneath a mask of indifference.

Ben looked at me like I was mad, "No he's not, he's a monster of monsters and he's the only one of the nine Alphas here,he could literally start a massacre without hindrance".

" He looks like a sweet guy though",i shrugged, Ben's jaw dropping in shock.

I could have sworn that a thin smile appeared at the demon Alpha's lips as our eyes briefly met before he turned away having found his seat four rows in front of ours, people shrinking away from him in fright.

However inspite of my fascination with him, a part of me warned me against associating with deadly Alphas like that. He was the last Alpha of the Fallenstars and if there was something the nine Alphas shared, it was the mystery that surrounds them and their notoriously high kill counts, if there was any thing worse than Lycans, it was Alphas.

I wouldn't want to jump from the fire to a volcano now, would I?, i thought as I found myself daring a glance once more towards his direction, his hands sweeping across his salt and pepper hair.