Page 3 of Knight’s Absolution

Luna nodded as the odd sensation in her belly moved up, behind her ribs, and squeezed. Maybe she was ill? These odd feelings had been coming more frequently.

Maybe you’re starting to feel other emotions.

If that was true, she was screwed. She wouldn’t survive Sir without the numbness, the shield of emotionlessness to protect her. Her anger was hard enough to contain and hide.

Several more minutes ticked by.

The thump and screech of buckling metal above them was loud—

A fist smashed through her window. A massive hand attached to a muscled, heavily tattooed forearm pinned Luna to her seat by her throat as Grace’s door was torn from its hinges and flung across the parking lot.

Luna stared up at the male snarling down at her. Gunner. She’d never been this close to the knight before. He was huge, towering over her. His jaw was covered in a short beard, and the scar through his upper lip made his mouth twist as he scowled down at her. For some reason, her hand itched to reach out and touch him, and her hunger—it skyrocketed.

Her fangs tingled, extended. There was no nausea, no repulsion at the idea of taking his blood into her body. No, her mouth watered. Something that had never happened before.

She couldn’t bring herself to look away. Feeling trapped by the beautiful, fierce male about to snap her neck.

“Gunner, no. L-let her go. She helped me." His pale-gold gaze slid to Grace and her mate. Chaos nodded. Sir had cursed him, all of them, enough times for Luna to know their names. Gunner’s hard, intense gaze slid back to hers, flashing fire before he released her throat and stepped back.

"Bring her to the compound," Chaos said.

"No." Grace shook her head, or tried to. “W-we made a deal. Let her go."

Chaos scowled, but in the end, gave Gunner another sharp nod.

Luna held Grace’s gaze for several seconds, and hoped the other female would be okay. Luna took a step, about to run, but couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at Gunner.

The knight was watching her, his beautiful yet deadly gaze boring into her as if he were trying to see inside her. And instinct told her that if she hung around for a moment longer, he might actually be able to.

Swallowing hard, she forced herself to turn away and ran into the night. And, as soon as she was deep in shadow, she summoned the last of her strength and threw up the heaviest block she could.

She couldn’t let them follow her.

If they did, her brother would pay.

As she drew closer to their home on the other side of Roxburgh, Gunner’s face flashed through her mind again.

She still couldn’t believe what she’d done a few weeks ago.

Her master had summoned a beast from the depths of Hell, and when it went for Gunner, she’d stopped it. She’d saved him.

The creature had run at the knight, and as she’d watched, her pulse had sped up, her belly gripping so tight she was close to throwing up. She hadn’t understood her reaction, still didn’t. She’d just known, she didn’t want it to be him that died, that it couldn’t be him.

And just before the beast reached him, her hand had shot up as if it had a life of its own, and she’d thrown a barrier up in front of him, protecting him from all those jagged teeth.

Gunner being alive had mattered. She didn’t know why, but it had. There was something about him. She didn’t know what it was, but she was…drawn to him.

He was beautiful.

He was most definitely fascinating.

And sad. He always looked so sad.

She may not experience emotions, beyond anger, but she’d read about them, seen people on television feeling them. Humans showed so much on their faces.

She braced and reached out with her senses—but she couldn’t feel Sir. He wasn’t back yet.

Since the Gunner-beast incident, Sir had been questioning her loyalty, and as a result, he’d assigned two of his favorite goons to follow her everywhere.