“No—not bad unreal,” I corrected softly. “Just…” My throat tightened slightly. “I spent so much of my life feeling unwanted that this feels impossible sometimes.”
Pain flickered openly across his face.
Immediate.
Fierce.
Gods, he hated hearing me speak badly about myself.
“Luna,” he said quietly.
The warning in his voice almost made me laugh.
“You do realize glaring at me every time I insult myself isn’t technically therapy, right?”
“It is effective, however.”
That actually startled a laugh out of me.
Menon’s expression softened instantly at the sound.
Like hearing me happy physically relieved him somehow.
And maybe it did.
The matebond still felt new and raw between us, but already I understood certain things instinctively.
He carried loneliness like an old wound.
Duty like armor.
And love?
Love like worship.
It was overwhelming being looked at the way Menon looked at me.
Like I mattered more than all the stars in the sky.
“You are not unwanted,” he said fiercely, one hand sliding into my hair. “Not now. Not ever again.”
Emotion clogged painfully in my throat.
I believed him.
That was the dangerous part.
“I know,” I whispered.
And I did know.
Not just intellectually.
Internally.
The bond between us pulsed warm with agreement immediately.
Mine.
