Chapter 3

Thumb stuck in my lips, I nip at my nail as I pace across the perimeter of my living room in lounge yellow shorts and a black tank top. The coolness of the white tiles meet my feet with each step as my brain strives to process the events of earlier.

I just arrived my apartment which is situated on the outskirts of LA half an hour ago and since then I haven't sat down to rest as the thoughts swirl around in my head.

The sound of utensils from the kitchen to my right reminds me Josh's presence. My bestfriend had showed up a week ago at my apartment with a bag and when I asked what he was doing his answer was simply that he was bored out of his mind at home.

Josh is a cheerful person and fun to hang with however he comes off as a loner as he finds no reason to start up conversations with strangers or make friends, making me his only friend as he was my only friend.

We lived together for 3 years before his girlfriend at the time insisted she wanted privacy. It wasn't a big deal for me thus I understood from her point of view and so we decided to live separately.

“I know you are crazy but the fact you've been pacing for the past hour is beginning to scare me,” Josh announced as he strolled into the living room in only a pair of black tennis shorts, his chest and abbs on display.

“You won't understand,” I assert and pause for a moment as he makes himself comfortable on one of the four plush chairs. They are arranged in a circular form around a long mahogany table that sits below a flat screened TV on the maroon painted wall.

“Definitely I won't,” he concurs in a sly smile on his lips, brown eyes teasing and nose angled upwards as he gapes at me, a strand of his curly Mexican hair falling over a thick brow. “However, I suggest you eat first.”

“What's that?” I implored and watched as he set two covered plates on the table.

“Lasagna,” he beamed and removed the cover from each of them, a satisfied expression on his face.

“Was there a need to cover it in the first place?” I asked in a scoff, shaking my head at him.

“It's for dramatics,” he contested. “There's a feeling you get after uncovering a food and seeing something delicious and appetizing. How it feels to have the scent waft into your nostrils and straight to your stomach.”

“You are a chef Lisa, you should know this,” he continues as I gawk at him with a blank expression.

“I don't think I can stomach any of this,” I blurt, my stomach doing a backflip as I stare at the meal, my brain not able to forget the change in his eyes, the sight of his canines and the sharp thorns on his nails.

“What's wrong Lis?” Josh inquires, his lids narrowing as worry depicts on his facial features. “You don't look so good.”

Tears gather in my eyes, and a lump forms in my throat at his expression, all the weight from the happenings since yesterday threatening to crash down on me.

“Josh,” I call out, biting on my bottom lip.

“Tell me Lis.” He stretches to a standing position. “I know something is up.”

I clamp my lids to keep the dam from breaking and begin pacing again. My fingers find their way into my strands as I feel like pulling on it in a bid to wake me from the joke my life seems to be turning into.

“Josh,” I stop, hands still in hair and peered at him with a serious look.

“You are scaring me Lis,” he groaned, his expression shifting between worried and exasperated.

“I'm doomed Josh,” I pronounce covering the distance to the chair on his left. I sit with a thump, shoulders slumping as I bury my head in my thighs and moan. “Josh I'm doomed.”

“How are you doomed?” He inquires, his hands rubbing my arms which I use to cradle my forehead as I curl in a foetal position. “Did you get scammed? Are you being stalked? What exactly is going on Lisa?”

“Josh I--” my sentence gets cut short by the sound of the doorbell. Panic rises in my form as I lift my head to see a frown appearing on his forehead. 

“Are you expecting someone?” He implores and glances towards the door.

“No.” I shake my head dread coming toward the forefront of my mind as I have sense of what may be. I gulp and ask, “you?”

“It's a Sunday afternoon, I have no plans of meeting anyone till tomorrow,” he explains and stands, his fingers still wrapped around my arm. “Who may that be?”

He tries to walk towards it but I hold unto him unconsciously, heartbeat speeding up. “I'm just going to get the door hold on.”

My hand falls to my thighs as he strives to the wooden door. I watch in a panic as he peers through the peephole. His browe scrunch up in confusion and he whirls to send me a look to which I raise a brow in inquiry.

He simply shrugs in response and I feel my heart hammer in my chest as the locks shift and he pulls the door open. My fear gets confirmed as I spot Klien standing in his signature bodyguard attire.

“Who are you?” Josh interrogates the stranger, his voice coming off as cold and calculated.

“I’m Klein,” he introduces and stretches out a palm which Josh reluctantly takes. “Chef Lisa is acquainted with me.”

“What are you doing here Klein?” I ask, my tone low as I gradually move to a standing position, my fingers folded in a fist to keep them from shaking.

“How do you know my house?”

Josh scowls after hearing that, a glare directing at Klein who has a blank expression as he answers. “It was on the employee form you filled out.”

I nod, not allowing myself feel stupid for asking such an obvious question. “I thought I was invited to come over later in the day and not this early in the afternoon.”

“Mr Lazarus has asked me to come and escort you to his residence,” he conveys. “His mother decided to show up earlier than expected and she's asking for you.”

“What's all these about Lisa?” Josh questions, the lines on his forehead evident as his lips thin out in a straight line.

“I'm-” I attempt to speak but the stare Klein was sending me prevented me from doing so. “I'll explain later.”

“”””””””

I waved at Josh and sent him a reassuring smile to help ease his worried expression as Klein waited for me to get into the backseat of the black range rover.

At his slight nod, I breath a small sigh and hope he doesn't worry himself more than necessary.

Adjusting the fabric of the red off the shoulder styled frock, I climb into the awaiting vehicle and shut the door after. The engine is immediately turned on and the car is steered out of the parking lot of my apartment building.

“Why do I have to where a dress? An expensive looking frock at that?” I blurt out my curiosity after minutes of silence and peering at the delicate material and handwoven flower designs.

“It's a custom to dress formally when meeting the Queen of the Light pack or as we address her, the Luna of the Light pack,” he explains. “It shows a sign of respect and recognition for her status.”

His words are enough to shut me up as the carry information that let my mind wander as thoughts swirl in my head. Thoughts like, will she like me? Where do I fall under this status thingy Klein talked about? If Nicholas is the next Alpha does that make me the next queen and Luna? Do I have to kiss up to some old stuck ups? Do I have to pretend to be someone I'm not?

A sigh leaves my lips as I peer out the window at the houses, scenery and people we breeze by, the questions trying to consume me. My gaze remain stuck to the glass hoping the flashing objects will maybe help to distract me.

“I hope I didn't in any way offend you Lu- Chef Lisa?” Klein inquires from the driver’s seat.

I raise my head and gawk at the rearview mirror to spot him offer me a concerned glimpse. Frowning in confusion I ask, “why would you think that?”

“It's just that I've been sensing an aloof energy from you since I showed up at your house per Master Nicholas’s order,” he conveys and I lift a brow.

“Well that's expected,” I murmur in a smile. “It's normal for me to react that way after you appear on my door unannounced.”

“I'm sorry,” he apologizes.

“Don’t worry I'm not mad at you,” I assure and he nods. “You were simply following orders.”

“Thank you Lu- Chef Lisa,” he says and a question pops in my head. I decide to risk it hence I am already roped into something more crazy than I could have imagined.

“Why do you always stutter when talking to me?” I ask and observe shock and fear run through his features from the mirror. “It comes off as of you are always about to say something but correct yourself.”

“Ummm,” he lets out.

“Go ahead and say it,” I urge. “I'm meeting Nicholas’s mother so I'm certain it should explain a lot.”

“I always end up about to call you Luna on instinct but end up correcting myself,” he answers, his head bowed low in defeat.

“Why so?” I interrogate. “From what you said earlier, Luna means Queen of a pack.”

“Yes,” he declares. “Master Nicholas is the next Alpha and the fact you are his mate automatically makes you a Luna.”

My heart stops and my breath seizes for seconds as the statement that confirms my thoughts sink in. Inhaling a shaky breath I say in an exhale, “well that answers one of my questions.”