The Forsaken Luna

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Mackenzie

Elliot is shivering against me. His chest is pressed into my back, his arms are holding me tightly against him. I could see the goosebumps that appear along his arms. It's starting to get colder as the night completely settles, but he doesn't want to go yet.

We sit on top of the hill, overlooking the twinkling street lights of Beacon Hills. Elliot's legs are on either side of me and his chin rests on top of my head. I rest against his chest. I let him support me. I trust him. It's strange how things turned out. Three months ago I wouldn't believe anyone if they'd tell me that I will fall in love with Elliot King. I would most likely laugh at the person and tell them they are crazy to think so.

But look at me now. I'm enjoying his arms pulling me further into his chest. I feel warm when he holds me so tightly, like I would disappear if he'd let me go.

"You're cold." I mutter, tilting my head to the side. My ear brushes against one of his collarbones that is completely cold. "Am not." Elliot mumbles back. The night is peaceful. The crickets sing around us, creating a calm atmosphere on top of the hill.

His answer makes me chuckle. He is practically shivering against me, yet he refuses to take his sweater back so he could cover his upper body. He would rather sit with his chest completely naked and let the winds make him shiver, than see me just in a shirt.

Elliot presses his lips on top of my head in a short kiss, before he rests his chin back on top of my head. I can feel my heart flutter at the action and I almost want to yell at myself. When did I become the girl that melts when a guy does such a simple thing? I don't want to be that girl. I'm going to kick myself if I keep being that girl.

I lift my hand up to his. Elliot lets me go with one arm and watches what I'm doing. I compare the size of my hand with his, pressing my palm against his. His fingers are longer than mine and his palm is larger than mine. It fascinates me that his hand is so bigger than my own.

I tilt my head to the other side, watching as Elliot closes his hand around my own. He places his arm back around me, his hand still holding mine.

"How was your mother like?" He asks me, his voice just above a whisper. I press my lips into a thin line when I hear the question. I haven't had a chance to talk about my mom lately. I think I have only mentioned her to Elliot when I told him about the night we got attacked in Canada.

"My mother – Eira Moore... she was..." I pause and try to find the words to describe her. There are so many words I could think of, yet none of them could describe her. She was more than just good, she was more than just strong, she was more than just amazing... "Eira Moore was unique." I settle with that description of her.

Elliot hums into my ear, telling me he is listening.

"She was kind. And very smart. And a naturally born leader. The role of a Luna ran through her blood." I tell him, watching the street lights below us. They illuminate Beacon Hills. The streets are completely quiet. Not a single soul is out right now. I wonder what's the time? Have we been here for an hour? More?

"I think she met dad when she was around your age. I think dad said she was nineteen when they met." I pause. Elliot is eighteen. I don't really know much about him, do I? I don't know when is his birthday, I don't know his favorite food, I don't know what's his favorite place to be at. Through the three months that we have been together, I haven't really met Elliot for who he is and what he likes. There was just so much going on constantly and we never got the chance to talk about more personal things.

"She was brave. And she always told me that I am going to be special. That I am going to be just like her. I never knew what she meant, but it looks like she was right." I continue telling him about my mom. I brush my thumb against the back of his hand and Elliot hums again. "She sounds amazing. I wish I could have met her." He tells me. His voice brushes my ear. It makes the hairs on the back of my neck stand. "She was." I confirm, nodding a little.