Filed To Story: Chasing the Rejected Luna's Heart (Clara & Liam) Book PDF Free
The war within packs could be far bloodier and more consequential than a war between them, so most packs had elected to plan such things in advance and follow an agreed-upon tradition. It eliminated the need for the younger alphas to challenge their elders, since they could ascend to power through more civilized means.
Unless, of course, that elder didn’t want to give up power. It had never happened since the transfer of power had been agreed upon, but it wasn’t outside the realm of possibility. And I couldn’t say I would be surprised if Dad was the one to break that sacred agreement. If he was willing to turn his back on his own child, biological or not, there was no telling what else he would do to save face and keep a hold on his power.
It flew in the face of everything I had been conditioned to believe, and yet, I couldn’t say it was unbelievable. Not by a longshot. In fact, the more I thought about it, the more sense it made, as if suspicion and conspiracy were a catching disease.
Not that it made much of a difference. If Liam was telling the truth and not just trying to come up with some noble excuse for his treachery, I was still the sacrificial lamb. I was no longer certain the three men I had been willing to give my life to would be any better than the one who had cast me out.
Thinking myself in circles was getting me nowhere. It wasn’t my pack anymore, which meant it wasn’t my problem. No matter how many times I told myself that, I still kept ruminating, so I decided I needed to get out of the apartment, even if it was near dark.
I pulled my leather jacket closer to my body as I wandered the streets. The neon lights flickering sporadically had replaced the light of day. As the more respectable establishments closed their doors, others opened. There was no shortage of liquor shops, strip clubs or bars in the area, and while I had never even been to the bar all the other shifters used to sneak into in high school, I decided to give it a shot. It was better than walking the streets aimlessly, especially since I was already getting a few weird looks from passersby. Each time I told myself I was being paranoid, I would meet the eyes of some shady-looking dude who made me question whether shifters were really the hungriest species out there.
In a sea of neon signs, one in particular caught my eye: The Coyote’s Den.? That was kind of a weird name for a bar. At least, I thought it was. Everyone just called the one back home “the tavern.”
Oh, what the hell. Couldn’t be any shadier than my apartment building, and I wasn’t eager to go back there anytime soon.
I walked across the street and entered the bar. I was immediately hit with the sound of blaring country music and the scent of beer. It was a hell of a lot cleaner than I expected, though, and surprisingly nice inside. There were the usual booths and tables, as well as a couple of pool tables, a lounge section complete with a dartboard and a TV playing a football game a bunch of people in plaid were hooting at. There was even a mechanical bull in the corner that was currently being ridden by a drunk guy struggling to keep his cowboy hat on. I felt like I had stepped into a portal to Texas, but the lively atmosphere was kind of refreshing.
A few people seated by the door looked at me, but it didn’t seem aggressive or anything. Just curious glances, and even though a big burly guy sipping a beer at the nearest table let his gaze linger a bit too long, he wasn’t as aggressive about it as most of the humans I had encountered so far in my short stay in the city.
There was a long counter up ahead, and the moment I took a step closer, I became aware of the fact that I wasn’t the only shifter in the room. Actually, now that I was paying attention, I could smell several.
They weren’t other wolf shifters, not as far as I could tell. Still, I was immediately on edge. It wasn’t like I wasn’t prepared to run into other shifters, considering this was a no man’s land, but the hair on the back of my neck still stood on end. I was about to turn around and walk out the door when the woman behind the bar made eye contact and said, “Haven’t seen you around before.”
She was tall and pretty, with dirty blonde hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, tendrils falling loose around her face. She was definitely a shifter of some kind, but with all the competing scents in the room, it was hard to say for sure. Her keen golden eyes passed over me, assessing everything in an instant.”No, I haven’t,” I replied, hesitantly approaching the bar. “I’m new in town.””Figured that,” she said, leaning on the bar with her palms pressed against the wood. “Don’t get many lone wolves around these parts.”
I blinked, surprised at how candid she was being given we were in public. Then again, the bar was so loud I could hardly even hear myself think.
I couldn’t formulate a response before she added, “Don’t worry. Humans have a tendency of ignoring anything they don’t understand, even if it’s right in front of their faces. What’ll you have?””Oh, I-“
She pressed a finger to her lips and looked me up and down once more. “You look like a martini kind of girl.””I do?” I asked, not sure if I should take that as an insult or a compliment.
She just gave me a toothy smile and grabbed a couple of bottles off the shelf. She poured a big slosh of alcohol into a silver tumbler and shook it hard before pouring it into a wide glass with a thin stem. Still grinning, she slid it across the table to me.”Thanks.” I reached out for the drink even though I wasn’t sure it was such a good idea to take anything from a stranger. I figured I had seen her pour it right before my eyes, and when in Rome-
My face screwed up as the bitter liquid hit my tongue and the harsh smell filled my nostrils. The bartender gave a sharp laugh but immediately followed it up with, “Sorry. Sorry, but it’s rare I get to christen a virgin. Your face was priceless.”
I coughed, still not entirely sure I hadn’t been poisoned. There was no way people would drink alcohol if it tasted like that, right? “Virgin?” I echoed, wondering if I was that hopelessly obvious.”I meant with alcohol, but if the shoe fits,” she said with a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. She offered her hand. Her fingerless gloves covered all but the knuckles, which were tattooed with various runes on the left and the card suits on the right. I reluctantly returned the handshake.”Samantha, but everyone just calls me Sam.””Lavinia,” I said, still not really sure what to make of her. I had mistaken the openness of the mean girls at school for kindness only to learn they were laughing at me behind my back, so I didn’t really trust my judgment where other women were concerned.”Lavinia,” she said, mulling over the name. “That’s nice. French?””I guess so, yeah,” I said with a shrug. “Mom liked Lovecraft, so…””Good taste,” she mused. “Kind of a racist asshole, but he was definitely a pioneer in tentacle monster porn.”
I had taken another sip that I choked on as soon as those words were out of her mouth.
She grinned, making it clear she enjoyed eliciting that kind of reaction. “Man, you really are fresh off the farm, aren’t you?””Farm?” I echoed, frowning.”You’re new,” she clarified. “I’m guessing it’s your first time away from your pack.””Is it that obvious?” I mumbled.”A bit,” she admitted. “But there are worse things. So, what are you running from? Arranged mating?”