Chapter 3
858 Words
I dragged my luggage to the hotel on the border of the Ravenfang Pack and checked in.
I'd barely set my suitcase down when my phone screen lit up.
In the family group chat, Ethan had posted a video.
The footage showed Selena sitting on the villa couch, that necklace around her neck, grinning so sweetly there was no trace of the teary, trembling look she'd worn when she was facing me just a little while ago.
Elliott stood beside her, staring at her with a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
I closed the video and exited the group chat. The weird part was, seeing them act so lovey-dovey didn't stir a single ripple in my heart anymore.
I was just about to put my phone down when it started vibrating in my hand.
It was Kylan Brooks, the owner of the auto shop.
I picked up, and his voice came through the line, thick with barely contained urgency.
"Ivy, I know it's out of line to call you after you quit, but Domi Reed's got his final race in three days, and he specifically asked for you to tune his motorcycle. He's the Alpha of the Crimsonpine Pack. I really can't afford to cross him."
I gripped the phone, and old memories came flooding back all at once.
I used to be obsessed with motorcycles, hooked on that wild, unfettered rush of tearing down the track.
But Margaret Dark had frowned and chewed me out back then, saying, "You reek of motor oil. How do you expect to be worthy of being the Luna of the Ravenfang Pack?"
To earn her approval, I'd quit my job at the shop of my own accord.
Thinking of all the help Kylan had given me over the years, I didn't hesitate for a second.
"I'll be there tomorrow."
This last job would be my farewell to this city.
The next morning, I showed up at the shop bright and early. Damian's motorcycle was already parked in the bay I'd always used back in the day. The second my hand closed around a wrench, that old, burning passion flooded back into my veins.
I leaned down and gave the motorcycle a thorough once-over, then used a micrometer to recalibrate the throttle plate's deflection angle—even a deviation of a fraction of a millimeter could be a death sentence for a racer.
I'd just finished adjusting the last set of parameters and brushed the grime off my hands to stand up when a ruckus broke out behind me.
Right after that, I heard a familiar voice.
"Let's go with that one. It looks so cool, the photos will turn out amazing."
It was Selena.
I turned around, and my eyes locked with Elliott's before I could brace myself for it.
His gaze fell on my grease-streaked fingers, and his pupils shrank. He stormed over, his voice tight with suppressed fury.
"Ivy, you made this whole big fuss just to end up in a dump like this? Do you have any idea what the lower-ranked wolves will think of me when they see you doing this kind of grunt work?"
He reached out to yank my wrist as he spoke.
I stepped back, dodging his grasp, and nodded in Selena's direction.
"She's here too, isn't she?"
"How dare you compare yourself to her?" he snapped, the words slipping out before he could catch himself.
Dead silence hung in the air for a beat.
I huffed a bitter, self-deprecating laugh.
Of course. In his eyes, nothing I ever did would ever measure up to Selena.
He opened his mouth, like he was about to say something.
But Selena walked straight toward Domi's motorcycle, reaching out to touch its front fairing.
My body moved before my brain could catch up. I stepped forward and blocked her hand mid-reach.
She tilted her head to look at Elliott, eyes glistening with that fake wronged look she did so well.
"Elliott, I know Ivy has always hated me, but I just wanted to borrow this motorcycle for a few photos, that's all."
"This is Domi's motorcycle."
I cut her off sharply.
The Crimsonpine Pack's influence stretched across nearly all of Awuitaine, and Damian was infamous for his hair-trigger temper.
If anything happened to that motorcycle, a half-assed apology wouldn't even scratch the surface of the trouble all of us would be in.
"Ivy, stop trying to scare people with that crap. There's no way someone like you would even be allowed to touch Domi's motorcycle."
Elliott's voice dropped to an icy bite.
"Besides, Selena's just taking a few pictures. She's not going to break anything."
I shot him a cold glance and didn't move an inch, staying planted firmly in front of the motorcycle.
Elliott's face darkened completely, storm clouds gathering in his eyes. He flicked a quick hand signal, and two of his guards stepped forward quickly, clamping down hard on my arms to hold me in place.
"Elliott!"
Rage boiled in my veins, but I was stuck there, helpless, as I watched Selena edge closer step by step toward the Ducati.
- Writer
