Chapter 4: Pieces Of The Missing Year

I stared at him in the mirror, my heart caught in my throat. I opened my mouth to answer but just ended up closing it. Everything from year sixteen hung between us, or hung in me. He probably didn’t even care. He already did a lot to nineteen-year-old me. And judging from what he just called, he hadn’t changed much in the year I lost.

He started calling me fatty at seventeen, a year after my dad died. He never did it in Alpha Trojan’s presence, of course. He was too smart for that. At this point I still didn’t understand what made him change. Even when I probably burned alive in that science building, I didn’t know why my best friend started hating me.

“I don’t feel so good.” I forced a tight smile before scrunching up my face. “My tummy hurts and I feel lightheaded”.

I didn’t understand why there was a party that I supposedly had to fetch a dress for when I clearly just woke up from a coma.

“It’s probably all that sugar you keep chugging down.” Marcus made a disgusted face.

I didn’t turn to face him. The mirror felt easier. He was my biggest tormentor when I burned and I wasn’t ready to face him yet. Even after a year of not having to. A year that actually just felt like yesterday to me.

“Why is there a party?” I finally asked, meeting his gaze in the mirror. “Didn’t I just —”

“Ew,” he cut me off, bringing his palm to his mouth and pointing a finger at me in the mirror.

I frowned and looked down at myself in the mirror. That was when I noticed the small, wet, round circles that were forming around my nipples on my shirt.

I stared at them for several seconds, completely confused. Why the hell was my shirt wet? I touched one of the spots with two fingers and pulled them back immediately when I felt the dampness. My stomach twisted. Didn’t that usually happen with breastfeeding mothers?

I touched my breasts then, taking both into my palms. They felt soft and tender and full. My heart started beating so fast that I could hear it in my ears.

Moon Goddess, what was happening to me?

I looked at Marcus through the mirror, but he was already staring at me with that familiar disgusted expression.

“You’ll never s—” Marcus started but his voice quickly faded in the back as I felt soft lips slam onto mine, like a memory.

I closed my eyes and bit my lower lip as my brain took over.

“Touch me,” the man whispered against my lips.

I couldn’t see his face, but I could feel every inch of him against me. Hard muscle. Big, strong arms wrapped around my waist. His breath against mine.

My body jerked as someone shook me and my eyes flew open. Marcus had his hand on my shoulder. I slowly looked down at it, trying to make sense of what just happened, because my head suddenly hurt and I felt like I was about to crash.

What the hell was that?

“Go breastfeed those parasites of yours,” Marcus muttered, stepping away from me. “We leave in an hour.”

I grabbed the counter to steady myself and met his gaze in the mirror. “What do you mean?” The words came out shaky but I didn’t care.

He frowned, like I had two heads. “Stop with the melodrama already. It won't make my dad like you.”

I stared at him through the mirror. “What does that even mean?”

Marcus rolled his eyes. “You know exactly what I mean, fatty. You’ve already trapped him with kids, but you’ll never be his Luna.”

His voice was harder now, and even more than I remembered before that fire. He was playful before, brutal and cruel. But now? He was angry. And even that was directed at me.

“No, I don’t understand what’s going on.” My voice shook again and I was on the brink of tears because my head hurt. Which annoyed me because I hated sounding scared in front of him. “What parasites? What are you talking about? How did I trap Alpha Trojan?”

I was basically begging for answers.

Marcus stared at me for a moment, then let out a short, irritated laugh. “Are you seriously doing this right now?”

“Doing what?”

“This.” He waved his hand at me. “The confused little act. Is it just for me?”

“No!” I snapped, then immediately regretted raising my voice because the pain in my head got worse. I squeezed my eyes shut and pressed my fingers against my temple. “I don't know what you're talking about.”

Marcus stepped closer.

I instinctively moved back until my hip hit the counter.

“You've been doing this for months,” he said, his voice getting louder. “Always pretending you don't understand whenever things don't go your way.”

I blinked. “I just woke up after the fire at the academy.”

He looked at me for a second and then burst out laughing. “What fire? You are a real piece of work.” He pointed a finger at me. “Count your days. I’ll get rid of you for good. Even if it’s the last thing I do.”

He turned toward the door. “Go feed those things before he comes to get you.”

Then he was gone, and I was left there with more questions than answers and a migraine from Satan himself.