Veronica leaned on Cordelia’s shoulder, reveling in the familiarity of her old Luna.
“I may not know what to do yet, but I’ll learn.”
Cordelia scoffed at me, her blond hair falling gently over her shoulder, and put her hand on Veronica’s bicep. “Dear, being a Luna is something you are born with, you don’t just pick it up after a while.” Her voice was degrading, and if I were a bug, I would have been squashed on the floor after her words. Veronica didn’t interject into our conversation any further.
“What do you suggest I do then?” I asked loudly. People around the room turned their heads slightly at the intrusion.
“I suggest you lower your voice,” she growled, gripping my wrist in her manicured hand.
“Take your hands off of me,” I warned, staring at her pale, skinny arm attached to me. She tightened her grip and pushed me back slightly. I ripped my right hand from her grip and pushed her firmly away from me. Her eyes widened, and she stumbled back into a few of the other pack members.
“Don’t you ever put your hands on me like that,” I whispered, bending my head towards her face. “You will respect me even if you don’t like me or think I can be a Luna.”
The room behind me fell silent, the only sound was a pair of men’s shoes walking across the foyer.
“Sloane,” Rush’s voice entered my ears, but it didn’t stop me. “Was it really necessary to push my mother?”
“I could’ve done a lot worse.” I smiled sarcastically and turned to walk away.
“What the hell is your issue, Sloane?” he spat, bending down to check on his mother.
“My issue?” I smiled. “I don’t have an issue. At least, I thought I didn’t have an issue, but then you keep springing things on me, and your mom seems to think that I’m not fit to be your mate.”
He rolled his eyes and rose to his feet once again. “Did you think everyone was just going to accept you right away? We know nothing about you yet. Respect is earned, Sloane.”
“Then let me earn it. Stop trying to undermine my relationship with you in front of your pack. You are supposed to help me. You’ve been training for this role since you were born, this is the first time I even thought I would run a pack one day.”
The foyer dispersed at the growl of their Alpha. Feet were frantically running out of the room, leaving me, Cordelia, Rush, and Beckett behind.
“You don’t run a pack,” Rush explained rudely. “I run a pack. You look after the women and children. You make sure that everyone is happy. I make the decisions. You report to me, Sloane, not the other way around.”
“That’s all I am to you?” I wondered, smiling, although nothing about the situation was funny. Cordelia remained on the ground, staring at me with an insatiable need to tear me down.
“You are my mate, Sloane,” he reminded me, walking towards me. “I will care for you, but make no mistake, I am the Alpha.”
“Duly noted, Alpha,” I said flatly, stepping back further and further.
“Where are you going?” he asked, trailing behind me. I didn’t turn to him until I reached the door at the back of the house.
“Anywhere but here,” I told him. His eyes held hurt, although he didn’t show it on any other part of his body. I waited for him to stop me. I wanted the relaxed, loving, funny, Rush that I had spent my first two days with to run after me.
He didn’t run after me.
I watched the door slam in front of me, his body didn’t move behind the shadowy door. I kept walking, even though I wanted to stop and run back inside. There was nothing I could do if he viewed me as a silly girl.
I was reliving every conversation I had with my father, every time he told me he wished he had sons instead of daughters, every time he told me I was responsible for his embarrassment, every time he told me I wasn’t smart enough to become a Beta.
I kept walking, not knowing where I would end up, but realizing I was going anyway. I couldn’t stay there, after all, every man lets you down eventually.
Tequila Sunrise
I ended up in the human town two miles over. The streets all looked the same, and with the number of faces passing by me, I couldn’t even tell which direction I was heading.
The people looked at me strangely, as if they could tell I wasn’t human. There was an old myth that werewolves were born with incredible beauty, blessed by the moon. Isla was the beautiful one in our family with long dark hair, doe eyes, and full rose lips. I was cast in her shadow.
Somewhere close to me smelled like alcohol, and I yearned for the sweet ache of tequila down my throat. The bar was dark with wood walls and old red stools, but it was comfortable and smelled like sweet cigars.
There were a few tables with men, one with a female couple, and a bartender who was leaning over the bar watching his patrons. I walked up to the counter and set my wallet on it, showing the man I could pay. He hauled himself up and strolled over to me, his beer belly brushing the edge of the counter as he walked.
“What can I get you,” he drawled, a meaningless smile coating his scruffy face.
“Tequila,” I said plainly, slumping down onto a warn leather stool. “And keep ‘em coming.”
“Rough day there, lass?” a lowly voice asked from my right. A tawny-haired man looked at me sideways, his hazel eyes gripping me.
“Yeah,” I murmured, smiling politely. He was a nice-looking man, a few years my senior, but he wasn’t Rush. “I guess.”
“Ron,” he called to the bartender, his thick European accent pouring out. “Put her drinks on my
