The Star Moon *SECOND IN THE MOON SERIES*

Seventeen|| Calm

"What pity party face?" I asked.

"The one where you think back on how your life is screwed up, you haven't really been living, just not dying." Jemma asked, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow.

I chuckled bitterly. "You're good. And accurate. But it's not a pity party."

"Then what would you call it? A moment of clarity?" She mocked, and I deadpanned her.

"Realization. Reminicsion. Whatever you wanna call it." I shrugged.

"Well whatever it is, it's over. It's not gonna do you any good to mull over it. Let's train."

"Jemma-"

Jemma smacked me across the face with the end of her Bo staff, interrupting my question.

"No talking." Jemma said, staring at me with serious hazel green eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be the nice one?" I complained, grabbing my own staff and clicking it, the ends extending out.

"I'm the motherly one," she corrected. "This is what I like to call tough love."

She launched herself forward, spinning the staff in her hands as she turned around in a tight circle.

I barely managed to raise my staff in time to parry her blow.

I was thrown to an immediate defense, attempting to remain standing as Jemma threw all of her skills at me without hesitation.

I don't even know how she did it, but she hit my legs out from underneath me, and I hit the ground with a thud, groaning with the wind knocked out of me.

"You're distracted. You're not paying attention, not even a little bit." Jemma said in a scolding tone. "What's on your mind?"

"What, so now I'm allowed to talk?" I asked incredulously..

"You're unable to focus, you'll be useless out in the field." Jemma replied. "You need to talk about this. If not with me, with someone."

"Yeah, who am I supposed to talk to? My resilient Queen or my hardened mate?" I asked sarcastically, and then sighed, realizing my tone was rude. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to sound rude."

"Talk to me." Jemma sat down across from me.

"I'm a killer, Jemma," I said, looking up at her. "I kill people. And I don't want to. I don't want to be a killer. I don't want this life," I gestured around me. "But when I fight, I get a rush. I feel..." I couldn't find the word.

"Like you've gotten some power and control back." Jemma said, her eyes filled with understanding. I nodded.

"I don't even know what I want in life. I don't know what my dreams and aspirations are. My life has been all about staying alive and out of Dante's hands. I haven't been able to even live it." I threw my hands up in the air.

"You think any of us asked for this?" Jemma asked me. "We're all dealt horrible crap we have to deal with, Taylor. Not a single person here leads a life of their own, not even us Alphas. Our lives are dedicated to the pleasure and the needs of our pack. Nothing else. We all have to make choices and sacrifices because of the positions we've been put in."

"But why?" I asked, saddened. "Why can't I just live my life for me? I mean, I know why," I corrected. "But still... why is it me stuck this way? Why is it us?"

"Those are questions no one can answer, Taylor. You have to let them go before they eat you alive." Jemma gold me, rising to her feet.

"Evan," I said suddenly, and she stopped. "I don't know if I can..."