Get Back The Abandoned Luna (Scarlett and Alexander) novel Chapter 22

Scarlett’s POV

255 vouchers

The sun hadn’t even fully touched the sky when my phone buzzed on the nightstand. I groaned, cracked one eye open, and reached for it blindly. The screen glared at me like a smug little demon.

Faye.

Her again.

I opened the message with the same caution I’d use to open a viper’s mouth. As expected, she delivered her poison–a photo.

In the photo, she was sprawled naked across Alexander’s chest, his arm possessively draped over her like she was some precious artifact. Her hair was tousled, her lips were swollen with the afterglow smirk she wore so well, and there were red marks and bites all over her neck, proudly shown off to the camera.

The message?

“He still sleeps like a baby when he’s with me. Must be love.”

I stared at the image for four solid seconds, ignoring the stinging in my chest. Then I rolled my eyes so hard it nearly cracked the bones in my skull.

You want to play games? Fine.

My fingers danced across the screen.

“You might want to work on tightening that ass. Gravity’s fighting you harder than I am. Good luck keeping his attention when he gets bored of leftovers.”

Send.

I tossed the phone face–down on the bed and swung my legs over the edge. Today was not going to be ruined by an overconfident side chick flaunting her morning–after delusion–someone who, God knows, won’t last.

I had a face to paint and a reputation to uphold.

There was no way I’d let those bitches trample what I built and what I would build.

No use thinking it over. They weren’t worth it.

At the vanity, I started my makeup with quiet precision. Every stroke, contour, and line drawn on my skin was armor, hiding the pale complexion and dark circles.

By the time I was finished, my reflection stared back with sharp cheekbones, blood–red lips, and eyes carved from steel. Scarlett Winter was not going to be trampled on–not today, not ever.

I smiled at the mirror, and a gorgeous, powerful lady smiled back at me.

For the final touch, I slipped into my dress. Slate gray, sleeveless, and dangerously backless. It hugged me in all the right places–elegance sharpened with sin. I reached for the zipper behind me and tugged it up-

-but it got stuck halfway.

1/4

4:41 pm p p p p

Chapter 22

I twisted, groaned, and yanked again. It refused.

You’ve got to be kidding me,” I hissed, wrestling with the stubborn metal.

Then I froze.

EZ 50 vouctins

A warm touch. Firm and deliberate. A pair of large hands moved the zipper slowly, carefully building a charged atmosphere. His fingers grazed my bare spine, and every nerve in my body snapped awake like firecrackers in a bottle.

Lucien.

Our eyes met through the mirror.

A smirk was plastered on his lips as he leaned close to my ear behind my back.

“You all right, little wolf?” he murmured, his voice dripping like melted obsidian.

I was before–but now, I wasn’t.

My knees wobbled, and I felt the burn crawl up to my throat, spreading like wildfire under my skin. I tilted stupidly, my heel catching on the rug. My balance wavered and I pitched forward.

But he caught me.

One arm wrapped around my waist, the other braced my shoulder. I found myself face–to–face with his silver gaze–eyes that saw too much and offered nothing in return–aside from being his contractual mate.

‘I’m fine, I muttered, trying to push myself up, though I remained firmly in his grip. “Just…dehydrated. From ignoring

idiots.”

His lip twitched in amusement. “You should dehydrate more often. You’re much easier to catch when you’re off balance.”

Before I could respond, the door swung open.

Kathleen, a walking tornado and certified mischief–magnet, strolled in with a bag of pastries and a smirk that screamed

VERIFYCAPTCHA_LABELVerify