At the bar

Ava Rossi - POV

It took me an hour to pack everything I needed. Each item I placed into my suitcases felt like a piece of my past, a memory I was trying to carry with me. Once I was done, I dragged the three suitcases down the stairs and set them by the main door. I paused for a moment, taking a deep breath as I looked around the house one last time. I knew I wouldn’t miss the walls that had witnessed my struggles, but the memories—both good and bad—would linger in my heart.

As I stepped outside, the cool air hit my skin, bringing a sense of finality with it. I made my way toward my car, quickly loading all my bags into the trunk. After securing everything, I locked the door and placed the key in the mailbox, so that my landlord could find it. Sliding into the driver’s seat, I took a moment to gather my thoughts before driving out of the driveway.

A wave of bittersweet emotions washed over me as I left the town where I had spent most of my childhood. The streets were familiar, yet they felt foreign now, burdened by the weight of my past. As I passed my house, I glanced back through the rearview mirror, taking in the sight of the town one last time. It was a place that had been both my sanctuary and my prison. Jacob hadn’t just snatched my happiness; he had belittled me, and I was determined to rise above it all. I would prove that I was far better than the gamma’s daughter he had married.

The moon shone brightly in the night sky as I rolled down the window, allowing the cool night air to rush in. It felt refreshing, as I drove away from the Red Moon territory. Yet, with each passing mile, a sense of dread began to creep in.

I have been driving for six hours straight and my eyes grew heavy, and my entire body ached from sitting in one position for so long. I scanned the surroundings, hoping to spot a sign for a town or a rest stop, but all I saw were trees lining either side of the road making me let out a groan. There were no other cars in sight, only the rhythmic hum of my engine cutting through the silence.

I glanced at the dashboard and saw that it was three AM. I had been driving for more than five hours. “If we keep going like this, we might catch a glimpse of the Moon Goddess before the sun rises,” Rose, my wolf, chimed in.

I rolled my eyes, the fatigue making it hard to maintain a lighthearted banter. “We need to be careful. If we stop here, we might end up dead, whether you like it or not,” I retorted, my voice sharper than I intended.

“There should be a town after this pack. We can stay there for the night,” she suggested, her tone soothing, and I knew she was right. It was dangerous to drive when I could barely keep my eyes open, so I reluctantly agreed.

After what felt like an eternity, I finally passed through the pack territory. I was surprised by its size, the sheer expanse of land that seemed to stretch endlessly. “Do you know what pack this is?” I asked Rose as I scanned the area for a signboard, but there was none.

“I don’t know. But I don’t think it’s safe to be here,” she replied, her voice cautious, and I felt a knot of unease settle in my stomach.

Fifteen minutes later, I saw that we were approaching a town. I slowed down, noticing that not a single soul was in sight and every shop and restaurant was closed as I drove through. The streets felt eerie, almost haunted by the absence of life.

“We can hit the bar until the sun rises,” Rose suggested, and I spotted a bar that was still open. It looked fancy, with a vibrant glow that contrasted sharply with the darkness surrounding it. I knew I had no choice; I needed to use the restroom, and my stomach was grumbling in protest.

I parked my car at the curb and got out, the cool breeze brushing against my skin. After making sure the car was locked, I walked toward the entrance, my heart pounding in my chest. “Can I help you?” the bouncer at the door asked, eyeing me with suspicion as I offered my best smile, trying to appear more confident than I felt.

“I stopped by for a drink,” I replied, attempting to discreetly smell his scent to see if he was a human or a werewolf.

“I’ve never seen you before, ma’am,” he said, still hesitant when I realized that he was a werewolf.

“I’m not here to cause any trouble. I’ve been driving for more than five hours and really need a break. There was nothing open at this hour,” I explained, my voice steady, though I could sense the tension in the air. The bouncer studied me for a moment, and I could see the internal struggle on his face. A few years ago, a law was passed by the werewolf council stating that it was against the law to harm any rogue who didn’t cause trouble for the pack. Many packs weren’t happy about it, but no one could do anything.

“Go,” he finally said, stepping aside to let me in. I could still see the caution in his eyes, but I didn’t take it personally; I had faced this kind of scrutiny my entire life.

Even though pack wolves mingled with rogues, they still made it clear they didn’t appreciate our presence. At first, their behavior hurt, but over time, I learned to ignore it.

As I walked inside, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. It was pitch dark except for the neon lights scattered throughout the room, casting colorful shadows that danced against the walls. I navigated a narrow path and came to a stop in front of a set of double doors. Pushing them open felt like entering a whole new world.

I had been to bars before, but this was different. The place was sophisticated, filled with an energy that buzzed in the air. A large dance floor dominated the center, where people swayed to the music, drinks in hand, laughing and enjoying the night. To my right was an impressive bar stocked with all kinds of beverages, glimmering under the soft lights. The air was thick with the scents of perfume and alcohol, making it stuffy enough that I felt perspiration forming on my forehead.

Everyone here was dressed to the nines—suits and elegant dresses—and I suddenly felt painfully underdressed in my faded pink T-shirt and blue jeans. The dim lighting, punctuated by red, orange, and pink hues, created an atmosphere that was both inviting and intimidating. I made my way to the bar and took a seat, wishing I could blend in rather than stand out like a sore thumb.

The music wasn’t overly loud, allowing me to gather my thoughts amidst the chaos. A bartender in a tux approached me, his expression revealing irritation as he looked me up and down, clearly unimpressed by my appearance.

“What can I get for you?” he asked, his voice flat and uninviting.

“I’ll have a bottled water,” I said, my eyes drifting to the wooden board behind him that displayed the menu. “And a hamburger,” I added, hoping to satisfy my growling stomach. He nodded and walked away, leaving me to absorb the vibrant atmosphere around me.