Chapter 2

UGLY MEMORIES 

Aiana’s POV

I stood there and stared at the man in front of me. There was something about him—something I couldn’t quite shake. His presence exuded power, the kind that made the hair on the back of your neck to stand up. He wasn’t just confident, he was dangerous. He looked the part.

The panther shifters must have noticed this too as they exchanged glances before backing down, it was clear that they had weighed their options. 

 “Not worth our time. Let’s go.” The leader said and spat on the ground. 

The punks. I narrowed my eyes as I watched them slink away into the night.

As they slunk off into the shadows, my pulse slowly returned to normal, I didn't even know it had escalated. I looked at the man standing in front of me while I tried to process what had just happened. There was something about him that was... different. 

Dangerous, but in a way that intrigued me.

“You alright?” he asked me, his voice was softer now, but still laced with authority.

I nodded my head as I forced myself to speak. 

"Yeah. Thanks for that.” I said. 

He gave me a small smile, one that made my stomach flip.

 “Okay." he said and examined me a bit more closely. And up close, I could see that his hair was dark brown and unruly. "You seem pretty calm for someone who just got targeted by a pack of shifters.” He observed. 

I shrugged and flicked a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

 “They’re nothing I can’t handle. Not the first time, won’t be the last.” I said casually while he watched me. From the corner of my eyes I saw the way he raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but not pushing it. 

“Still, most people would’ve been shaken up.” He said. 

“I’m not most people,” I replied flatly and crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t know what it was about him, but his presence was… unsettling. He stood close, too close, his unique scent filled the air around me. 

There was something more than just raw strength in him. There was control. 

And I hated that somehow my body was getting drawn to him. 

“Clearly,” he murmured, a small smile tugged at his lips. He looked around, his eyes took in the bar behind me, the streets, and then back at me. “You live here long?” he asked me. 

“Long enough,” I said and eyed him curiously. “You new in town?” I asked him. He seemed unfamiliar. 

He nodded.

 “Just passing through. Seems like an interesting place.” His eyes flickered back toward the shadows where the panther shifters had disappeared. “Is it always this common for… Others to be gathered in one place like this?” he asked me. 

I could feel him probing, subtly asking for more information. I wasn’t sure how much I wanted to give, but then again, Black Creekside Town wasn’t exactly a secret. It was one of the few places left where beings like us—shifters, witches, warlocks, others, werewolves, vampires, few humans and hybrids like me—could live relatively freely. Although I was yet to discover hybrids like me. I seemed to be the only hybrid in this city. 

“Depends on what you call common,” I said and took a step back, I could feel the cool night air brush against my skin. “This town has been home to Others for decades. The humans left a long time ago. They realized they weren’t the top of the food chain around here. Although, a few of them still stayed back but, the city belongs to the Others now.”

 “The humans left?” he asked his eyes were sharpened. 

I nodded. 

“Like I said, most of them. Black Creekside is ruled by our kind now. You could call it a sanctuary for people like me." I said. 

Like you, I said in my mind. I wondered what his deal was ....what was his name? And why the hell was I giving too much information?

He could be a serial killer for all I knew. 

His lips curled into a small, an almost amused smile. 

“Sanctuary. Interesting choice of words.” He nodded his head. 

I studied him closely, I was trying to figure out what his angle was. He didn’t look like he needed sanctuary, more like he could take over the whole damn town if he wanted to. I wasn’t sure whether that should scare me or make me curious. 

“Well, don’t let the panthers fool you. They’re the least of your worries around here,” I said, I was trying to keep my voice casual. “Most of the real power belongs to the packs.” I said. 

“The packs,” he echoed softly, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes. “And what about you? Where do you fit into all of this?” He asked me. 

My heart skipped a beat. The way he looked at me made something inside me tighten. I hated that feeling—like I was giving something away, something private. I wasn’t about to let him get inside my head. Not after a ten minutes conversation.

“I....work at a bar,” I said, my tone was flat. “That’s all you need to know.” I said. I wasn't about to let him know that I was half lyncan and half warlock. That was completely unnecessary. 

He slowly nodded his head, his expression was still unreadable, but there was something in his eyes, that I couldn't quite place.

“Fair enough.” He said. 

Without another word, he turned and started walking away, and for reasons I couldn’t explain, my heart raced as I watched him go. His presence floated in the air long after he had disappeared into the night, like smoke that refused to clear.

As soon as he was gone, I rubbed my arms in an attempt to shake off the prickling sensation that crawled under my skin. It had been a long time since anyone had made me feel this unsettled, and I didn’t like it one bit. Something about this stranger made me feel… exposed, like he could see right through me. 

That wasn’t a good thing.

With a deep breath, I pushed away the parasitic unease and headed back inside the bar. The moment I stepped in, I felt his eyes on me. 

Shit.

He was there, seated at a booth near the back, watching me. I didn't know he was headed back into the bar. He wasn’t alone anymore. A group of men and women sat with him, their relaxed postures and easy confidence marked them as wolves.

Great, I thought bitterly as my mood immediately soured. 

Werewolf shifters. 

I hated those. 

I didn’t know why I expected anything different. Most wolves stuck together, and they always had that same cocky, territorial vibe. It pissed me off. They acted like they owned every room they walked into, every person they talked to. 

How come I didn't notice that he was a werewolf shifter?

Honestly, I had nothing against shifters in general, but wolves? Wolves were different.

 I’d spent most of my life being judged by them. My lycan blood was enough to make me interesting, but my warlock blood? That made me different. 

To them, I was a walking contradiction. Not enough to be part of their world, and too much to be left alone. 

And now watching them was beginning to awaken memories. Memories that I would rather, they stayed buried.

I felt the heat rise in my chest as I watched the group laugh quietly among themselves, their eyes occasionally drifted to me. I wasn’t sure what annoyed me more—the stranger's calm demeanor, or the fact that I couldn’t stop thinking about him.

Mary Ann shot me a glance from across the bar. 

"You okay?” She asked me. 

“Fine,” I muttered and grabbed a tray of drinks. “Just tired.” I said. 

I could feel Mary Ann's eyes on me, I knew she wanted to ask me what was wrong and all, but I didn’t have time to deal with questions. Not now. Not with the strange dude sitting there, watching me like he knew something I didn’t. My skin prickled again as I moved through the crowd, my heartbeat had become too loud in my ears.

As I passed by his table, one of the women leaned over, and whispered something in his ear. He smirked, but his eyes didn’t leave me. I hated the way it made me feel. I hated how every nerve in my body seemed to be on edge because of just one stranger. 

I reached the end of the bar and set down the drinks with more force than necessary. 

What the hell was wrong with me?

I never let anyone get under my skin like this.

And yet, here I was, unsettled by someone I barely knew.

I could still feel his eyes on me and it was beginning to get me riled up. Why the hell could he not just look away? At something else, at someone else. Anything and anywhere but at me. Because it was unsettling the way he was staring at me. And I hated to see that my body was foolishly basking in the euphoria of his stares.