Luna gaped.
All of the air had vanished from her body, and she had felt a forcefully impact moments later.
Her wrist, the one where she had been holding the blade, was pulsing between heat and cold and throbbing with pain, and the hand it was attached to was hanging limply. She couldn't move it.
More importantly, her face was pressed against the evening cold that clung to the stones that had seconds ago been beneath her feet, and the rest of her body was overcome by a burning sensation, vaguely backed by something solid and impenetrable, made of overlapping flat planes.
She tried to speak, and all that came out was a low moan of pain. Her throat worked, absent of both words and sensation.
Dimly, she was aware that she was in shock, but she didn't know what that meant. What had happened?
Luna slowly tried to piece the feelings together, but they repeatedly fell apart, jumbled. Something inside her was pushing logical reason out of her mind.
She felt her back arch, and she was unsure whether it was trying to get closer or farther from the heat.
It wasn't entirely unpleasant. She didn't know what it was, but the heat felt nice.
A low sound rumbled in her gut, spilling up her throat and slipping out her mouth before she could stop it.
She lay there dazed for more than a minute until she was finally able to figure out what was going on.
The sudden pressure must have been the Lycan hitting her. No one else could have, and there were no other races than humans anywhere near, that she knew of.
So she had hit the ground, and she was lying there.
Then what was the twist?
Oh, yes. He must have assumed that she was going to stab him. Luna supposed she would as well if something like this happened, although she wouldn't be able to do anything about it if they were as close to her as she had been to him. Assassins were another reason that she didn't let people get close to her.
So he had twisted her wrist, and probably still held it, due to the fluctuating heat that she always felt from his grip and the cool stone below.
So where was he? She didn't see him, but that wasn't saying much.
Luna looked around drowsily, and still nothing.
Where had he gone? How could someo-
Luna cut herself off.
She knew what was behind her.
That forceful pressure, those perfect planes, that heat.
Lukas was behind her.
And his body was pressed against hers.
Luna clamped her mouth shut. She didn't want to be beneath him. She had to get out...
I don't want to be beneath him, right?
Luna let out a small whimper. It was the most she could manage by the way of speaking.
Yet there was something about the arrangement that was just too perfect. In less of a nightmare-monster-about-to-kill-you way and more of a sexy-guy-pinning-you-down way.
Luna cursed herself softly. If she wanted to survive, she had to be aware and able to disconnect. She couldn't get attached, couldn't get attracted.
Too bad it was too late.
But wait.
She didn't have to act as though this was a one-way trap. If she could convince him that she was in love with him, then it would be much easier to seduce him.
Keeping that in mind, she relaxed her body for that reason and for that reason only.
Luna didn't admit to herself that she liked the closeness as much as she liked the heat. But she knew that she wouldn't be able to keep it up forever.
This was a dangerous game she was playing. A game she had never played before. And she had no idea how she would succeed.
She just needed to go into it with confidence and push for the beat outcome.
And it was already working.
Lukas squeezed her tighter, and the toasty warmth around her grew to a blaze of heat covering every inch of her skin where he touched her.
As her eyes rolled back, she had one last thought.
I am so, so fucked. I played the game and I lost. Who could've seen anything like this coming?