Page 3 of Luna Trials

Even if it was only a fairy tale.

He nodded, coughing to clear the emotion from his throat as his eyes misted. “Yep. And I meant it too.”

“I know you did.” I rested my head on his shoulder. He patted my arm, silent for a moment, as we were both lost in our memories. I wish I had more. Ones of Gram. Of my parents. But I was okay living them through Papa’s stories.

“Are you making dinner tonight?” His voice was rough.

I pretended not to hear the sadness in it. “I guess I can cook for you.”

“Better earn your keep.” He grabbed the remote.

I rolled my eyes as I headed to the kitchen.

There was leftover chicken in the fridge that still smelled all right. I chopped potatoes and carrots and set them to boil. By the time I was finished whipping up a quick soup, the news had switched to something other thanMating Seasoncoverage.

Thank the Goddess.

“Supper’s ready,” I called out.

Papa turned the volume down. “Listen, Aspen. I know you want us to leave and I’ve been thinking…”

His eyes widened. The ladle in my hand dropped to the stove and soup splattered everywhere. My brain froze as all other thoughts fled and freewill was replaced with the command.

My wolf growled inside me, having no choice but to obey Alpha Derek as he spoke through the link inside our heads,“Mandatory pack meeting. Now.”

2

Aspen

I chewed my bottom lip, trying to find a parking spot for our old truck in the lot of Duke’s Bar. The building was the only place big enough to host pack events besides the prison, but the lot was already almost full. It wasn’t the urgency in Alpha Derek’s tone that had me worried. It was that he never bothered to call all the lower ranking wolves to meetings and I usually avoided all pack functions like the plague. My position in the prison kept me from having to interact with a lot of my pack on a day-to-day basis.

And I really didn’t like this pack.

I finally found a spot near the sagebrush in the field across the street from the bar.

“Leave it. I can walk.” My papa growled as I moved to get his wheelchair out of the bed of the pickup truck. I didn’t bother to argue.

But I did frown when he straightened his shoulders as much as he could muster, leaning on the cane to support the weight of a missing leg. I knew it pained him. I could hear his wolf howling and itching some nights at the phantom limb.

It wasn’t the first time I wished the mountain lion that got him was a shifter so I could find it and punch it in the face.

Papa gritted his teeth, showing no sign of weakness, as he slowly entered the den of wolves. Because here in Nuva Pack–like basically any other pack–weakness was what got someone killed.

I raised my chin and followed him inside the dimly lit bar, fists clenched at my sides as I watched to make sure no one tried to attack my papa.

The overpowering musk of dominant wolves on edge riled my own wolf’s hackles. Fur pinpricked my skin as I held my wolf back. She wanted to shift, to protect my papa from the wandering eyes that glanced his way. The brown fur sprouting on his leathered, sunbeaten forearms told me he felt the same.

“Over there.” I motioned to a chair in the back of the room where the lower ranking wolves clustered. None of us in Nuva were what would be considered rich, but there was a clear distinction between the inner circle of Alpha Derek’s ranks and everyone else.

They got more leg room on chairs in front of the bar and took up most of the space. While we stuck close to the walls and hung out in the shadows with mostly standing room. The bigger brutes, some as big as my papa, laughed with their families in the center of the dance floor.

But I knew them.

Their crude humor was a mask, hiding the fact that they wished they could rise up and challenge for Alpha of the pack. Maybe if they weren’t such cowards, they’d try. No one had openly challenged forAlpha since my father contested Derek when I was still a blind pup. They say my mother, a she-wolf from the big city, didn’t want to stay as a lower ranking shifter. So my father tried to change his rank, shooting for the stars even though Alpha positions were traditionally passed down within a family. He lost to Derek, and my mother ran away disgraced, leaving me alone with my papa and a stigma attached to our family name.

We’re not supposed to want power. That was the lesson my father’s legacy taught the pack and since his death, everyone heeded the cautionary tale.

I wasn’t like my father.