I Am His Wolfless Luna

Jaselyn's POV

Do you ever get that feeling? The one in which it feels like you're floating on air. Blissfulness encompassed my being as my body turned on the bed and my eyes fluttered open.

It was bright— too bright. I blinked a few times in an attempt to adjust my eyes to the harsh sun rays that washed on my face. In a split second, I realized that this wasn't my room.

Turning to my side, my eyes fell on a strange man sleeping peacefully next to me but I didn't panic. Rather, a feeling of warm familiarity washed over me as my wolf keened at lascivious memories of this man— my mate.

I had never thought I'd meet my mate, I believed I was too unlucky for such a blessing. The events leading up to this moment almost feel like a blur now. And to think I didn't want to attend the Peace Ball……

****

I stood a few feet away from the table and played with my fingers nervously, trying my hardest not to shake in fear as he took a spoonful of food and moved it to his mouth agonizingly slow.

‘Please let him like it. Please let him like it.’ I chanted the words in my mind. Hoping it would become reality. Uncle Dan finally took the food into his mouth, chewing messily and scrunching his face weirdly, as if it would determine whether he liked it or not.

He swallowed and my breath halted when his eyes fell on me. “What are you doing standing there like a petrified mouse, go get me my coffee!” He yelled at me and I scurried away, thankful that he had no problem with the food. Usually, he would find issues with it even when there were none just so he could verbally abuse me and on days when he was feeling grumpier than usual, I'd get beaten.

I'd been forced to endure his abuse and live completely at his mercy after my parents passed away a few months ago and I had to move into this Pack with him, owing to the fact that he's my only living relative.

I carefully carried the cup of coffee over to the table, ensuring it was exactly the way he liked it, not too hot or too cold. He took a sip and spat it out dramatically before throwing me a murderous look and I knew I was done for.

“What the hell is this?!” He barked at me.

“Your….. Your coffee.” I stuttered out, afraid to say anything he wouldn't like.

“This tastes like dirt water. You're fucking 18 years old, do you expect me to teach you how to make coffee everyday? What kind of wife will you make? Or have you decided to be a liability all your life?” He lashed out harshly and my eyes watered.

“I…. I'm sorry, I made it exactly the way you like it, two cubes of sugar and no creamer, I don't know what went wrong.” I pleaded pathetically and the words barely left my mouth when a hand came flying my way.

It was too unexpected so I couldn't avoid it. A hard slap had my head twisting sideways, the intensity nearly making me fall over.

I could taste a metallic saltiness on my tongue and I instantly knew I had busted my lip. The sting of the slap lingered on as I stood straight and kept my head down.

“Bitch! Next time you argue with me again you're really gonna get it. You're so ungrateful, I fucking feed and provide for you yet you can't do anything right. I'm the reason you have a roof over your head or else you'd be whoring yourself out in that backwater Pack just to survive.” He cursed and I bit hard on my bottom lip to stop myself from retorting.

He feeds me? He provides for me? Like hell he does. I work to earn my keep. I do every single chore in this house, up to washing his disgusting underwear. I do menial jobs for our neighbors and babysit so I can have money for the days when he decides I'm not good enough to feed. I also have to deal with the women he occasionally brings home. I have absolutely nothing to be grateful for.

He's just a sadist. From what I heard, his mate left him and since then, he's only gotten worse. He only vents his frustrations out on me. I want to scream out how horrible of a person he is and how much I hate him but I know that that'll just bring unnecessary pain for me. Being able to avoid a beating is a win.

“Take it away, you've fucking made me lose my appetite.” He orders and I get to work, taking the food away and cleaning the place while he relaxes back into his seat.

As soon as I'm done, I take permission to leave. “Uncle, I'm done. May I please go to my room?”

“Don't you have chores to take care of?” He asks, barely sparing me a glance.

“No, I've done all my work.”