Three years later.
A beach in a small border town.
The sun here is fierce and unhurried. The wind off the water always carries the smell of freedom.
I was now the proprietress of a beach bar called Blue Moon.
This place sat far from the core werewolf territories,a sun-bleached refuge for humans and for Rogues passing for human, none of them asking too many questions about each other.
Every night I took the best stool at the bar, a Margarita in hand, and admired the young, beautiful bodies twisting on the dance floor.
Lily was my partner now. She had shed every trace of Omega timidity and become a sharp-eyed, ruthlessly efficient businesswoman.
"Boss," she purred, sauntering over with a grin, "another handsome candidate just turned up to audition for bartender."
"Send him in."
Eigh
