Luna Genevieve

CHAPTER 4: The Opportunity Strikes

I take off my wedding ring that once symbolized my happiness, but now has become the reminder of Elrod’s heartlessness.

But instead of just throwing it away, I pawn it for some hard cash. To my surprise, the ring isn’t as expensive as Elrod told me. It’s just enough to rent a small apartment in an impoverished neighborhood and buy cheap clothes in a thrift store.

With only a few dollars left, I’m forced to find a job so I can survive until I’m finally ready to make a comeback to avenge my ruined life.

I apply in one of the high-end resto-bars in town, hoping that it’ll pay me well. The crew dismissively tells me to wait for the manager outside under the unforgiving heat.

Hours pass by, and there’s no manager approaching me. My skin is parching and so is my throat, my patience burning too.

I step back inside the resto-bar and approach the crew once again.

“When will the manager arrive?” I ask, thinly hiding my frustration.

“Oh, I forgot!” she says, smirking wryly. “The manager entered the backdoor a few hours ago.”

My frustration amplifies, but I manage to calm myself down since I can’t lose this opportunity.

The crew escorts me to the back of the establishment where we find the manager, a stout and bald man, smoking behind his desk.

He gazes at me, the ugly half of my face particularly, with disgust. Then his gaze becomes lustful as it descends to my legs, prompting me to yank down my skirt.

“With that face, you’re just gonna scare away customers. So no, I can’t hire you,” He says. Then he walks towards me and circles around me. “But, I’m not choosy when it comes to bed. If you’d like…”

Slap!

My hand flies to his plump cheek, bitterly interrupting him.

He thuds down to the floor, while the crew gasps in surprise.

“Well, if you’re not choosy, I am,” I hiss.

The manager shifts, his canines barring at me as guttural noise from his throat echoing.

But,...

Before I can shift too and the situation escalates, one of the crews rush inside the room, grinning and jumping in delight.

“The Silver Fangs Pack is gonna be celebrating their 500th Annual Foundation tonight! And our resto-bar is chosen to serve our best beverages!” the crew exclaims.

The manager shifts back to his human form. He then turns to me and says enthusiastically, as if nothing happened just a moment ago,

“If you still want a job, this is your chance. Since we’re short of staff for tonight’s big event, you’ll help us serve our clients. If you do well, you’ll be hired. But if not, then don’t bother us ever again.”

Being choosy, that I just bragged about, isn’t feasible in my new situation. So, just like him, I swallow my pride and accept his offer.

“You have to cover your face with thick makeup or something so you won't scare away anyone,” the b.itchy crew says. “Follow me, you have to learn the basics of serving a drink.”

My fingers are itching to grab her frizzy hair, but I manage to control them.

After receiving a short and awful training from her, she hands me a spare uniform.

Before the sun is down, we travel towards the Silver Fangs Pack’s territory - which is massive and green and vibrant even under the darkening sky, unlike the icy and rocky one of my former pack.

At the center of it is a mansion, which is obviously where the Alphas live. The music is so loud yet fun. The crowd is dancing, as if everything past the dancefloor doesn’t matter. Stalls, which offer different foods and beverages, are lined up at one corner.

As I position myself beneath our stall, a man so handsome and tall approaches me. He looks so ethereal, as if he just pops out of a fairytale book.

I gaze at him longer than I should have. He has piercing silver eyes, as if they can see right through me. His muscles ripple beneath his crisp tailored suit. And his voice is low yet so soothing to my ears.

“Give me a glass of champagne,” he says, his hand ready for one.

Not only are my movements frozen, but my brain is too. Something inside of me, which I can’t name, stirs.

The man doesn’t blink his gaze from me, making me conscious of my ugly face. So I pull my scarf a little to hide it.

Then,...

He picks up one of the bottles of champagne and pours it in a glass himself. As he guzzles it, his gaze remains at me through the rim of the glass.

My heart thuds loudly and aggressively.

Why am I feeling this way?

I’m only able to breathe properly when the man starts to walk away. But instead of joining the crowd, he goes in the opposite direction and enjoys his champagne all by himself.

I veer my gaze away from him and shake my head.

Genevieve, you must focus on your job and not on a stranger!

Then, the b.itchy resto-bar’s crew whispers, “That’s Alpha Lancelot D’Arcy. One of the two heirs of the Silver Fangs Pack. So don’t dare ever think that you have a chance to be his mate.”

I jerk, my expression is brimming with denial of her assumption.

As the night deepens and the celebration is about to close, the man named Lancelot keeps coming back to our stall, ignoring the others.

I’ve not seen him eat anything or talk to anyone. It’s just alcoholic beverages that accompany him all throughout the night.

The more I look at him, the more I pity him. What’s making him so sad? Was he betrayed too, like me?

When everyone starts to leave, while the stalls are being cleaned, another man, who’s way older than Lancelot yet with a great figure like him, approaches him.

“So, this is all you’re gonna do?” the middle-aged man snarls. “If you’re just gonna throw away your future, just tell me now. So I can officially name your brother as my sole heir to my throne and disown you.”

So, that man is Lancelot’s father, the Main Alpha of this pack.

Lancelot doesn’t respond, doesn’t even glance at him.

Then,...

He walks away and disappears from view, leaving only his father feeling utterly disappointed.

Suddenly,...

My body moves on its own, following where he’s gone through.

About a kilometer from where the mansion is, a strident noise reverberates beyond the tree and bushes, so I cautiously sprint towards it.

There’s a grey wolf battling a witch to death!

“I have no personal grudge against you, but I’m commissioned to kill you,” the witch declares as he moves his wrinkled hands to cast a spell.

The grey wolf keeps on attacking him, delaying his witchcraft to be fully complete.

I wanna help, but my instinct tells me not to.

What if I die again… and for a stranger? How will I accomplish my revenge then?

Until,...

Dark smoke billows from the witch's hands and strikes the grey wolf. The grey wolf flumps down to the ground, groaning and wheezing.

The witch smirks triumphantly. “You’re not gonna escape my curse. You’ll soon die, a slow and painful death.”

As the witch disappears into a thin puff of air, the grey wolf seamlessly shifts into a human - Lancelot?!

I anxiously rush to his side. His face contorts in pain, blood trickling down his lips.

I failed to cast a curse against Elrod and his pack before. So I’m not confident if I can use my healing ability to save this man’s life.

As I place my hand on top of his chest, I whisper a desperate prayer, “Please work.”

There’s a faint energy gathered beneath my palm. I force myself to summon more, but to no avail.

Who’s this guy, and why can’t I just leave him alone to die? Why am I affected by his presence?

My heartbeat begins to slow down, my strength waning.

Until,...

I can no longer wield an ounce of energy. I collapse on top of Lancelot, feeling his… steadying heartbeat?!

Then, his weak voice echoes, “Miss, wake up. Don’t die.”