Chapter 2

~Ava

The neon lights of the club flickered like a beacon, casting a hazy glow over the darkened street. I forced Nimueh’s feet to slow as I caught sight of it, making her growl low in my head.  

“Ava, stop.”  

“No,” I whispered under my breath, my voice barely audible over the muffled bass of music that seeped from the club's walls.  

“This isn’t safe,” Nimueh pressed, her voice firm yet tinged with concern. “You’re hurting and vulnerable tonight. Let’s go home. At least your brother can make you feel better.”  

My chest tightened at her suggestion. The thought of going back to my uncle’s house, seeing Riley there… it would break me all over again. “No,” I snapped aloud this time, drawing a curious glance from a passerby. “I’m not going back. I need time away—from home, from them, from everything.”  

“We can’t keep running, Ava. It’s not healthy.” Nimueh’s voice softened, hesitating for a moment before sighing in defeat. “Fine. But this doesn’t feel right.”  

“Nothing feels right anymore,” I muttered.  

With a huff, Nimueh reluctantly let go, and I felt the shift ripple through my body as I transitioned back into my human form. My legs wobbled, unused to standing upright after running so far on all fours. As I straightened, my mind wandered to Aiden.  

Was he home yet?  

I reached out through our mindlink, but all I got was silence. A sick feeling settled in my stomach as realization hit—Nimueh had run farther than I thought. We were outside the pack's borders.  

I glanced around, taking in the unfamiliar street. My gaze caught the signboard above the club entrance, glowing brightly in the dark: Silverwaters Pack.  

Oh, great, I thought bitterly, wiping the tear tracks from my cheeks. My reflection in the window beside the door revealed red-rimmed eyes and smudged mascara. Perfect.  

“Are you sure about this?” Nimueh asked.  

“Positive,” I whispered back, pushing the door open.  

The heat and music hit me like a wave, swallowing me whole. Bodies swayed to the rhythm on the dance floor, their movements wild and uninhibited. No one noticed me slip in—just how I liked it.  

I weaved my way to the bar and slid onto a stool. The bartender, a gruff-looking man with salt-and-pepper hair, approached with a raised brow.  

“What’ll it be?” he asked.  

“Tequila. Shots. Lots of them,” I replied, my voice stronger than I felt.  

His brow rose higher, but he poured the first shot without comment. I downed it in one go, the burn spreading through my chest like wildfire.  

“Rough night?” he asked, pouring another.  

“You could say that,” I replied, reaching for the next shot.  

He nodded knowingly, as if he’d seen a hundred girls like me before—lost, broken, and drowning their sorrows in cheap liquor.  

By the fifth shot, the edges of my world blurred, and I felt lighter, freer. I stood, wobbling slightly, and made my way toward the exit.  

“Hey!” the bartender called after me. “You forgot to pay.”  

I froze, my heart sinking. Shit. My bag. I’d left it at Liam’s house in my rush to get away.  

“I, um…” I stammered, turning back to him. “I don’t have my wallet.”  

The bartender’s expression darkened. “You don’t have money, and you’re out here drinking? What kind of scam are you running?”  

“Please, keep your voice down,” I whispered, panic rising as heads turned toward us.  

The bartender didn’t lower his voice. “No money, no drinks. You better figure this out, missy.”  

Before I could stammer out another apology, a deep voice cut through the tension.  

“How much does she owe?”  

I turned toward the sound and froze. The man standing there was… breathtaking. Dark hair that looked like it had been kissed by midnight, piercing eyes the color of molten gold, and a jawline sharp enough to cut glass. His presence made my wolf stir.  

“W-Who…” I started, but my voice failed me.  

The man ignored me, dropping a wad of cash onto the bar. “Use the rest of the change to buy yourself some kindness,” he said coolly to the bartender.  

The bartender grumbled but took the money, leaving me to gape at my mysterious savior.  

The man turned without another word, walking to a booth in the corner. Heads turned as he passed, women openly drooling, and even the men seemed captivated.  

“I like this one,” Nimueh purred.  

“Shut up,” I muttered, but I couldn’t stop myself from following him.  

He noticed me approach, his golden eyes locking with mine. Up close, he was even more stunning. His skin was flawless, his features perfectly symmetrical, and his scent—warm, musky, and intoxicating—wrapped around me like a vice.  

“You’re staring,” he said, his voice low and smooth, snapping me out of my thoughts.  

“I’m not,” I lied, sitting down across from him.  

He raised a brow, swirling the wine in his glass. “Why come to a bar without money to pay for your drinks?”  

“I didn’t plan this,” I snapped.  

“Hmm,” he mused, his lips curving into a faint smirk. “One of those girls, huh? Always depending on men to bail them out?”  

“Fine face, good heart, with a touch of arrogance. Interesting,” I muttered, folding my arms. “For the record, I don’t depend on anyone. Thanks for helping me, though. But don’t insult me.”  

I stood, intending to leave, but his hand shot out, gripping my wrist gently.  

“Sit,” he said, his tone leaving no room for argument.  

I hesitated but sat back down, my eyes trailing the movement of his throat as he sipped his wine. The way he swallowed was maddeningly sexy, and I found myself staring again.  

“You’re doing it again,” he said, his smirk widening. “I know I’m good-looking, but this is a bit much.”  

I snapped out of it, glaring at him. “You’re not that handsome to me though.”  

“Liar,” Nimueh teased.  

“Why are you out here alone?” he asked, leaning back in his seat, his gaze never leaving me.

I hesitated, a frown tugging at my lips. “I... I have to go. It's getting late.” 

He didn’t move, just watched me with that steady, unnerving focus. I muttered under my breath, barely audible, “Wouldn’t he stop me again?” His touch from earlier still lingered on my skin, sending a ripple of warmth through me that I both hated and craved. Part of me wanted him to reach out, to grab my wrist again. The other part of me wanted to get away from here.

But he didn’t.  

“Thanks again for paying for my drinks,” I said, walking toward the door.  

As I stepped outside, Nimueh’s voice cut through my thoughts. “You’re a fool. You should’ve gotten his number.”  

“Not happening,” I muttered. “It’s not ladylike to ask for a guy’s number. Besides, I just got out of a bad relationship.”  

“Finee, but just know that you're getting punished for this, and your punishment is walking home on your two legs,” Nimueh said smugly.  

I groaned, looking around helplessly. I had no phone, no money, and nowhere to go. 

Then I saw him.  

The man from earlier walked out of the club, heading toward an Aston Martin that gleamed under the streetlights. My jaw dropped. The car looked like it had been crafted specifically for him—sleek, powerful, and commanding attention.  

“Go ask him for a ride,” Nimueh urged.  

“Not a chance,” I muttered, ducking into the shadows. I didn’t want him to see me like this—vulnerable and desperate.  

He reached his car, his movements fluid and graceful. I turned away, silently pleading with the Moon Goddess to decide for me.  

“If I were you,” his voice came from behind me, “I’d be moreconcerned about my safety than my stupid ego.”  

I spun around, heart hammering. “Shit. What now, how did he know I was stranded?”