Don't Poke the Luna (Xena and Ryder)

Xena's POV

I wanted to push further, to demand

time. I bit back my questions and siswers the way I usually did, but something in his demeanor told me this wasn't the

He leaned down and pressed a gentlenoveldrama

away.

nodded.

to my forehead. "I'll be back soon," he murmured against my skin before pulling

I watched him walk toward his car. The engine roared to life, and I stood there until his taillights disappeared into the distance, leaving me with an odd sense of unease I couldn't quite place.

Back in our room, I found that Ama had already prepared dinner for us. The thoughtful gesture warmed my heart. The aroma that greeted me was absolutely divine: a rich stew filled with bacon, ground beef, and kielbasa sausage. My stomach growled appreciatively as I breathed in the hearty scent.

I settled down with a piece of cornbread, tearing off chunks to soak up the flavorful broth. The combination was perfect. I found myself eating with more enthusiasm than I'd had in days, practically devouring the entire portion. It had been a while since anything had tasted this good.

But as I finished the last spoonful, an unexpected wave of exhaustion hit me. My limbs felt heavy and even the simple act of clearing my dishes seemed monumentally difficult.

I told myself it was just the stress of recent events catching up with me. Even the thought of taking a shower - something I desperately needed – felt too taxing. Instead, I moved to the couch, adjusting the pillows to find a comfortable position. The last thing I remembered was pulling a throw blanket over myself, intending to rest for just a few minutes before Ryder

returned.

The violent pounding on the door shattered my peaceful sleep like a sledgehammer through glass. My eyes flew open, heart immediately racing as the sound registered. This was aggressive and desperate.

Outside our room, chaos had erupted. Gunshots echoed through the corridors, punctuated by screams and shouts for help.

"WHO IS IT?” I called out, my voice shakier than I would have liked.

No response came, only more violent pounding that seemed to shake the entire door frame. Then came the sound of boots striking wood - they were trying to kick the door down.

Panic surged through me as I realized these weren't pack members. I reached out through the mind link, desperately seeking Ama's familiar mental voice.

Nothing.

I tried again, this time reaching for Ryder, but the connection was completely severed. The silence in my head was deafening, more terrifying than the chaos outside.

"Una," I whispered, calling for my wolf.

The absence of her response hit me like a physical blow. I remebered last night's dinner - the unusual exhaustion, the deep sleep, I'd been drugged. Chapter 303

I stumbled toward the bedroom, hoping to find something to defend myself, but I was too late. The door exploded Inward with a crash that made my cars ring, wood splinters flying across the room.

Two figures burst through the doorway, their faces completely obscured by dark balaclavas and hoods. Despite the

them nagged at me their build, their movement patterns, even the way they held

concealment, something abo Ciliar.

themselves seemed

I tried to raise my hands to defend myself, but my body was still sluggish from whatever had been in my food. My injuries from previous encounters hadn't fully healed either, sending sharp pains through my torso with every movement.

The first attacker's fist connected with my abdomen, driving the air from my lungs and sending waves of agony through my still-tender ribs. Before I could even double over properly, the second one's punch caught me square in the face. Stars exploded across my vision as I crashed backward onto the couch.

A black hood was yanked over my head, plunging me into darkness and muffling the sounds around me. Strong hands gripped my arms, hauling me to my feet. Every step sent jolts of pain through my body as they forced me forward.

The journey through the pack house was a nightmare of muffled sounds and disorientation. Through the fabric covering my head, I could hear the cries of children and women, the sounds of fighting. Our warriors were being overwhelmed.

The precision of this attack was becoming clear - someone with intimate knowledge of our routines, our meal schedules, our security protocols had orchestrated this.

But how had they managed to drug an entire pack? Wiley's spray from our previous encounter had required close contact and only affected individuals. This was something far more sophisticated and wide-reaching. The thought made my stomach turn.

I felt the cold bite of winter air hit my exposed skin as we moved away from the pack house. Without warning, one of the warriors behind me kicked my shin with brutal force. The sudden, excruciating pain shattered my thoughts, making me cry out. Before I could process what was happening, rough hands yanked the hood from my head.

I blinked rapidly, trying to adjust to the flickering light of torches. Warriors surrounded us, all wearing dark masks and head coverings, their faces completely hidden. The dancing flames cast eerie shadows across their concealed features, making them look like demons from a nightmare.

But it was the figure sitting directly in front of me that made my heart stop.

Even with the mask covering his face, something about him was achingly familiar. The way he held himself, the tilt of his head - it all triggered a recognition that sent my pulse racing. His eyes, visible above the mask, sparkled with unmistakable amusement as he watched my confusion.

Slowly, he reached up and pulled down his mask.

"Benedict,” I breathed, the name barely a whisper.

Don't Poke the Luna