Rejected by the Alpha || Crowned by The King : A Blessed Luna Rising Novel

ARC 1: The Perfect Luna 🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘 “Good morning everyone!” Sang a melodic voice as a woman entered the salon balancing several packages in her arms. “Here let me get that for you, Evanthe!” A young girl jumped up, reaching for the teetering stack. “No, dont worry- I got it!” Evanthe assured the child as she swiveled around her. “I’ll help you!” Another woman sprung out of from underneath her hair dryer. “Nope, I really got it, promise!” Evanthe shook her head, expertly dodging the woman’s outstretched hands as well. She made her way fluidly through the full salon, offering a charming smile to every person she passed as headed towards the back. She finally set the packages down on the floor of the backroom storage with a labored sigh. After finding a chair to plop into she immediately started to open and sort the contents. Typical items necessary to run a beauty shop; Evanthe inspected the inventory carefully, stifling a yawn as she marked off the latest additions on her clipboard. Pine. Vanilla. Sunshine. Agitation. Familiar footsteps made their way down the wide hallway. The boss was coming, and she sounded like she was trying to get somewhere quickly. Evanthe stopped to survey how much work she had gotten done in the past hour and flicked through a list of reasons her boss could be mad right now. The door opened. “Can I have a moment with you?” A petite older woman asked in such a way that Evanthe knew she wasn’t expecting a no. Not that she’d dare give her one. Evanthe nodded her head, trying to shake off the creeping agitation on herself as well. The newcomer had angled eyes, eyes such a rich brown they beamed red in sunlight. They looked over her meticulously now. Was Evanthe worthy of the words she was about to bestow upon her? Whatever the other woman was about to tell her must have been serious. The door closed right behind her as she stepped in. This salon was well insulated from the outside, but the inside one’s not so much. The only real way to have a private conversation amongst wolves was to not be seen, and spare the use words at all. Heat at Softie’s park. All afternoon. It was scrawled magnificently neat on a piece of napkin. Vetaria never rushed her pen. Evanthe immediately perked up. While Softie’s park has a history of having the most skirmishes, all parks are supposed to be neutral ground. Evanthe tilted her head to the side, and mouthed “Who?” Fear. Sweat. Wood. Fear. Blood. Fear. “Luna Vetaria, Omega Three.” Vetaria winced. “Open.” She said with a growl. As Omega Three entered, broad shoulders hunched like her status commands her, Evanthe smelled the arousal of the others in the salon simmering. Omega Three had just been in a fight and as lowly as she was, the injuries she sustained angered the others. She also brought in the scent of The Windbreakers. Well that answers one question and starts many others. Thought Evanthe. Evanthe assessed the situation more quickly with all these new scents on Omega Three. One, O’three will be chastised if not punished for walking through the salon with that much information on her person like that. Evanthe could easily tell Vetaria was even more irritated than before. Two, the heat had rose to a skirmish and it wasn’t that long ago. Three, someone broke the neutral ground and The Windbreakers could now be crossing borders as they speak. And everyone in this salon knows it now. Vetaria pulled out a round piece of ivory with a moonflower carved into it and gave it to Evanthe. Her eyes sending her a message her voice couldn’t. Deescalate. She carefully clipped the charm to her necklace, tucked it and nodded to her superior. Vetaria gave her a big hug, rubbing Evanthe’s back as her scent would be her armor as Evanthe moved about the pack and beyond… it helped steady Evanthe too. She glared at O’three as she passed, daring to put Vetaria in a confrontational spot with the others. Deescalate. Evanthe knew her mission started immediately. The salon was full of cute but dangerous. She had to appear like nothing was the matter because everyone even the youngest would be more than ready to press someone if they had to. She took a deep breath, focused on her mission then walked out, chin up, face blank and smooth like glass. Agitation. Anger. Arousal. It all hit her full force. The salon was busy before- it was packed now. Word got around faster than Evanthe had time to even comprehend. She met everyone’s eyes just as she did before, flashed a smile at everyone just as before, hoping her own mixed emotions didn’t collide with the tense atmosphere. She didn’t even want to breathe, as she gently squeezed passed the waiting area but she felt a surge of boldness as she made it out the salon. Everyone in there would ride for her. It wouldn’t take nothing but a howl. Evanthe held her well practiced glide until she was out of eyesight. Ducking behind a building she let out a small yelp of joy. Taking gulps of breath and wagging an invisible tail. They all trusted her to go by herself. She left with her Luna’s blessing. A token, and a scent.. Evanthe wanted to pull out her phone and text her friend, Lyra but she knew most phones were tapped if not all by now. Was there a way? No better not chance it, but she did note they needed a way to communicate a complete win like this over text. The first part of her mission was complete. Now her second: get to Softie’s without anyone knowing what’s going on. Evanthe considered shifting but catching O’three’s scent quickly crushed that idea. Last thing these people needed was a reason to start something and seeing her following a scent in form is like a human walking with their weapon in hand. Poor thing’s been dragging her scent almost the entire way to the salon. How did one of their most weakest members end up getting into a fight at Softie’s? What will she find when she gets there? Softies was no place for punks. Evanthe took in her appearance as she passed by windows. Her dollish features and slim frame would not intimidate anyone. Especially the type of people who lurk around Softies. “Headed somewhere?” Evanthe whipped around, instinctively hunkering down. “How did you-“ The man behind her grinned. Evanthe squinted her eyes. A rogue. Neither friend or foe. “You learn a thing or two hanging by yourself. Things they don’t teach in little wolf academy.” If Evanthe walked away, it would be showing she wasn’t bothered by his presence but turning her back would open her up for an attack. A rogue, even a familiar one was nothing to play with. Deescalate. “You don’t want any problems with me, Vigor.” Evanthe said evenly as she turned to flounce away, nose in the air. He hated pompous attitudes. “Oh I’d love to have a problem with you.” Vigor shadowed her. “My mother on the other hand…” In a few strides he was walking next to her. He may have been trying to play it cool but Evanthe could tell he was tensed about something. “I don’t want you around.” “You don’t?” Humph, Evanthe replied with a flip of her long black braids. His mouth curled up but he still accompanied her. Evanthe took a peak at him. His beard hid most of his face, but the eyes, identical to his mother’s, were brooding. “What are you thinking about?” Evanthe asked suddenly, hardly noticing the looks she got as they passed by. “I’m thinking about what you’re about to walk into.” He answered taking her aback. Evanthe’s heart rate picked up. What did he know about the heat at the park? Was it the scents she carried with her? She squinted again “Were you there?” “Was.” “And?” “And?” He asked, throwing a look her way. “What do you know?” He growled. Thick brows furrowed together. Vigor was never one to lose his cool. “What does it matter?” “If you know something you need to tell me.” “I don’t.” Evanthe stopped in her tracks. “Yeah you do, I’m going to be Luna soon so you need to respect that.” Vigor turned to her. Eyes not giving anything away but still brooding. “You’re letting it get to your head already.” He snorted. “You don’t even know if my mother is stepping down.” “I know she favors me.” Evanthe said with a snotty demeanor. Vigor barked out a bitter laugh. Then he leaned forward, Evanthe stepped backward. “Oh she favors you?” He asked darkly, moving closer. She was backed up against a wall, but she dared not take her eyes off of him. “What does it mean to be favored, Vanthe?” She didnt even have time to respond. The smell of blood hit her nose, then her body began to shift.