THE ROGUE LUNA.

Blaire Simpson pushed the door open slowly and tiptoed inside the house, closing the door slowly behind her.

It was quite late and she guessed her father would be back home, that's if he wasn't getting drunk at Four Town bar.

She prayed the latter, because if he was home, then she was doomed.

It wasn't as if she'd done anything bad, but he gets very angry when he returns home before her or when he comes home and his dinner isn't served.

And her coming home late wasn't intentional. She'd missed the last bus, plus there was quite a traffic on the way, so she'd trek for most part of the journey.

But those weren't excuse enough for him, to why she'd came home late. He would be livid nonetheless of her valid excuses and that was why she prayed her wasn't back home.

The lights weren't on, but that doesn't give her any relief, because the man might be home, but wouldn't turn on the light.

She fished her cellphone from the pocket and turned on the flashlight to make her way through the darkness.

However, she was startled by the manly figure that was leaning against the wall. Seeing the man hateful gaze zeroed on her, her heart dropped into the deepest part of her stomach.

Her father.

"Dad.."

"Where the fuck are you coming from by this time?" He queried her angrily, taking slow strides towards her now scared figure.

Peter Simpson pushed the light switch and the bright light came on, illuminating the small passage that led to the door.

Looking at her, he felt a sudden surgery of anger to hurt her and cause her pain.

"There...was...traf---"

"Shut up you slut!" He shushed her up and immediately, she swallowed back her words.

The man was angry, she could sense it, but she noticed something else, he was staggering even with his slow strides.

He was drunk again.

"Dad...I can explain...the traffic was..." He shut her up with a resounding slap, so hard that her ear didn't stop humming for the next few seconds.

Per the effect of the slap, tears started streaking down her deep set amber eyes.

"You slut, you went to see a guy!" He pointed accusing, grabbing a handful of her dark hair,

"How dare you return home by this time!" He queried furiously, still pulling her hair and slapping her face, mercilessly.

Blaire tried to shield her face with her palms, but he punched through them and pushed her away.

She landed on the hardwood floor in a thud, her back hitting against the wall, but the man didn't stop.

He lunged towards her coiled form and started kicking her nonstop.

"You went to meet a man, uh? You've been fucking around, haven't you?" He accused her lividly, still kicking her.

"I haven't." She defended herself hoarsely, covering her face so his kicks doesn't land on them.

"I..didn't..meet..anyone.."

"Liar!" He shouted at her. His face was purple red and his big German body was heaving as he stopped kicking her.

"What do you think your mother would say if she was alive?" His voice was now slow, but and octave higher.

"She'll forgive me, if I explain to her.."

"Shut up! You slut." He said with gritted teeth and clenched fist, staring at the girl.

Blaire raised up her head to meet the man's gaze; his drawn broad face and blazing eyes the color of mud; lank hair roughly the same color and thin colorless lips.

"I'm sorry papa..." She cried, apologizing to him

"It won't happen again, I promise."

"It'd better not, for you would live to regret it." He stated venomously and right before her, he hissed and turned, staggering towards the stairs.

"Don't make me wait for my dinner!" He hollered from the stairs, reminding her about his dinner.

"Okay." She made an inarticulate throaty cry, not getting up from the floor.

For a few minutes, Blaire cried a dry, choking cry, wiping away the blood she'd tasted on her lips.

Her scalp was burning from the violent pull, her ribs were hurting from the kick and so was every other part of her body.

She haven't even healed completely from the beating of two days ago and here she was, crying the aftermath of another.

More likely, they haven't healed from all the assault and abuse she's been receiving for the past three years and counting.

She was bruised beyond repair and there was no light of hope for her.

Three years ago, herself and her mother had been involved in a tragic car accident. She was lucky to had survived the accident, but her mother wasn't fortunate enough, she died on the spot.

Her life became a living hell from that fateful day.

Her father for some unknown reason, blamed her for the accident that'd killed his wife.

"She died because of you. If you hadn't been a psycho, she wouldn't have had to take you to the doctor and sure wouldn't have met that accident." He'd said to her countless him, she'd lost count.

He'd even told her he wished she'd died in that accident and not his wife.

Blaire wasn't shocked, cause she took wished she'd died in her mother's place or even die alongside her. That way, she wouldn't be living this hell is living in now.

She won't have to face her father's constant abuse or her older sister's dejection.

After her mother's funeral, she was forced to take up the role of a wife to her father. She cooked for him, cleaned, did his laundry too. Most times, his sexual pleasures he'd derived from her too.

Several times, she'd attempted suicide, but every attempt was a complete failure and she'd to face his deadly wrath afterwards. She'd tried to talk to her older sister about it, but Shelly had never cared about her, not while their mother had been alive and after her death, it only became worst.

She rarely came home, leaving her to the constant abuse of their father.

After her highschool graduation, last May, her father had refused her from going to college even though she was accepted on a full term scholarship to study psychology in UCSC.

Now, she was working as a waitress at Dela Restaurant. Her earnings are his to squander and she wasn't permitted to go out with any guy.

Some months back, Malcolm, her best friend's brother, had insisted on driving her home from the restaurant, because it was quite late. Her father had brutally abused her just because he saw her getting out of his car and he'd assaulted her so badly, she'd to call in sick from work the next few days.

Since then, she'd avoided the opposite gender like plague.

Even her former best friend, Poppy, she wasn't permitted to visit or communicate with anymore. Although, she was far away in Northwestern studying law and only came home during the holiday, her father had strictly warned her not to communicate with her, fearing she would expose him, so she'd to keep her distance.

In fact, she was living in hell on earth, with no one to talk to and no way of salvation.

After sobbing her pain away for a few more minutes, she gathered herself up from the floor and sauntered towards the kitchen.

He must be having his bath and would take quite awhile. She just have a prepare a quick dinner and serve them before he returns. Ignoring her bones that were screaming in pain and anguish, she set out to work immediately.

Using the pressure pot, she was able to beat the time and when he came out several minutes later, she was done with dinner.

"Blaire!" He called out to her, walking towards the dining table.

He was on his pajamas pants, shirtless above it. His dangerous looking tattoos visible for the eyes to see.

Most times, Blaire had wondered what'd actually attracted her mother to a man like her father. He was deadbeat, all he'd ever cared about was drinking and gambling away the little money they'd. He'd a job at the Topeka Sewage plant, but eventually lost the job and they all had to feed from the money her mother had made, work as the sales manager at JC's and Penny's.

After her mom's death, they started living off her insurance. Shelly moved away Oklahoma and came home once in a blue moon. She was stuck with him, with no possible jeans of escape. That was why she'd insisted on working at Dela's; it was her temporal escape and a means of financial support.

Not waiting for him to ask, she pulled out a seat for him to sit on and after he sat, she hurried to the kitchen and brought his dinner.

Dinner was bacon and spaghetti sauce.

"Sit." He ordered in a monosyllabic tone after she'd served him his dinner. She pulled out the seat next to his and sat on it.

For several minutes, he ate his dinner hungrily, while she sat there, contemplating on how easy it would be for her to just poison him one of these days and get him off her back.

But then, her conscience would kill her with guilt for the rest of her life. She's still living with the guilt of her mother's death, to want to add his to the list.

"When is your pay day due?" He asked her all of a sudden, dragging her from her reverie and she faced down, avoiding his gaze completely.

"On the twenty fifth." She mouthed in reply to his question and he grunted something incomprehensible, going back to his dinner.

"Dad, I've ran short of my pills. Can I get money to restock?" She asked him in a barely audible tone and he returned his gaze on her, his brows creased.

"You'd a restock two weeks ago, how come you've ran out of it?" He flared acidly, his voice so loud, it reverberated around the room.

"Have you been using it with another person?" He pointed accusingly at her, she coiled back in fear and shock,

"Have you been sleeping around with another man?" He repeated, this time pushing his dinner away, the cup of water fell on the floor, shattering into pieces.

"No..no...one...I'm...not.."

"Shut up, you slut!" He roared angrily, smacking her across the face.

"You've been sleeping around!" He accused her blatantly, pulling her by her hair,

"You've been sleeping around with other men uh?

Is it your boss? Have you been sleeping with him?" He asked her, yanking her hard on her hair.

"Dad, I'm not...Mister Creed isn't doing anything to..." Another thunderous slap and she swallowed her words.

He grabbed her neck and pinned her face to the wooden table, almost wanting to strangle life out of her.

"Get this into your slutty head, bitch. I own you. Till the day you draw your last breathe, you're mine and the sooner you accept that, the better for you." He spat venomously, still pressing her neck, while she wheezed and gasped for air.

"The next time you give me any reason to doubt my ownership over you, I'll do hurt you, you'll wish for death instead." With those words, he let go of her neck and pushed her head against the table. He hissed and left, leaving her to clear up the mess he'd made on the floor and on the table.

With tear filled eyes and belabored breathing, she watched him walk towards the stairs.

CHAPTER 2

The next morning, Blaire woke up very early to prepare breakfast for her father before going on to get ready for work. After making his breakfast, she packed them in the old but active thermoflask, then set his coffee in the coffee maker, then returned to her room to get prepared for work.

Coming down awhile later, the man was out his room and was having his breakfast already.

"Good morning, dad." She greeted the man and he grunted some incomprehensible reply, averting his attention from his breakfast to her, to examine her outfit.

It was a daily routine. He evaluated her dress every morning before she leaves the house.

"I don't want you showing the whole world what's mine to see." He'd told her countless times in the past, during this routine checkup.

She was wearing a beige sweater and an old faded jean, all worn for over a hundred times. Her dark brown hair, she'd pack into a ponytail and her pale face was make up free.

"Good." He sighed with satisfaction, after he'd finished evaluating her dress. She wasn't showing any skin with her choice of outfit.

"I might not come back early tonight, so don't bother preparing dinner for two." He informed her after a few seconds of silence and she nodded sheepishly, while he went back to his breakfast.

Inside her, she sighed with relief, knowing that he might eventually not return home tonight.

A night free of torture, she couldn't wait.

"Do you need anything else?" He asked her, still focused on his breakfast.

"Nothing sir."

"Off you go then." He mouthed dismissively and she left, leaving him to continue his breakfast.

She trekked a few meters to the bus stop and then waited for a few minutes for the bus to finally arrive. When it finally came, she got in and made her way through the bus aisle, to the last seat on the bus.

The drive to her workplace took about ten minutes and when they got to her stop, she alighted the bus after paying her fare.

From the bus stop, she looked across the soon to be busy Friday street and there was Dela's Restaurant.

The most popular restaurant in the landlock Topeka.

Manny, her colleague was watering the plants outside the restaurant, while Natalie, the new girl, was setting the outdoor tables. There were few passersby walking to and fro the tarred street, but they weren't her concern.

She threw her hood over her head and immediately the pedestrian light came on, she headed across the street.

"Hey B." Manny called out to her, pausing what he was doing and she turned to him with the warmest smile she could conjure,

"Hi Manny." She mouthed to him.

"Blaire." Natalie acknowledged her with a generous wave and she waved back, still smiling.

"Mr Creed is inside." Manny informed her and she nodded, trying not to give out any emotion.

If anything, she's very grateful for her boss, Mister Creed.

After every horrible night at home, she's always glad she gets to come to work for him the next day.

She'd met him last year, few months after her graduation. Since her father had refused her from going to college, she'd decided to get herself a job, than stay at home all day, waiting to be tortured at night. Her father had wanted her to come work at Four Town, the bar he frequently visited with his friends, but she'd refused, lying to him she'd found herself a good paying job at the popular Dela's Restaurant. Lucky her, he'd believed her.

The next day, she drove to Dela's and lied to the manager there about her waitering experience. But man had rejected her, saying they'd enough staffs already. However, just as she was about to leave defeated, she met him. They'd bumped into each other and she spent the next few minutes apologizing to him, even though he'd bumped into her rather. Two days later, she'd received a call from the restaurant and that was how she got the job as a waitress there. It was two weeks after she started working at Dela's, did she get to find out he was the owner of the restaurant.

Since then, he'd had this paternal solicitous likening to her, even though he was just a few years older.

Unlike the other men she'd met, of course she'd met just a handful, but she believed there was something special about her boss, Zayn Creed.

However, she couldn't pinpoint what exactly.

She couldn't tell if it was his charismatic and enigmatic nature or the intimidating aura that emanated from him or better still, his strikingly handsome features.

All she knew was that there was something about him and she's yet to unravel that.

She doesn't think she ever will.

"Morning Blaire, you're five minutes late." The deep and rich masculine voice pointed accusingly at her, immediately she closed the double doors behind her. She took a deep breathe and exhaled slowly, before turning to face the owner of the voice.

There he was, standing with arms in akimbo. His facial expression was rather unimpressed and disappointed. He was on his Saturday signature looks; a plain white T shirt and a black denim jeans.

Looking less of a man and more of a high school senior that'd been voted best dressed. His shoulder length silvery blond hair, he'd packed into a messy ponytail, letting some strands dangle freely around his pale white face.

"I'm sorry..."

"Just kidding." He mouthed, his stoic expression drizzling into a playful one.

"You should see your facial expression," he mocked, walking towards her, "it was priceless." He added, still laughing at her in sheer mockery.

"Good morning Mister Creed." She greeted the man, sighing with relief.

She wasn't bothered about his penalizing her, but she hated getting on his wrong foot. Although she'd never been on his bad size, but she'd seen him several times, lashing out on her other colleagues when they make mistake, so she'd rather not be there.

"Morning dear, how your night?" He asked her, stopping a feet away from her,

"It was fine." She replied candidly and he shrugged.

She would never tell him. He just wished she would talk to him.

"How's your guidance counselor?

He's treating you well?" He probed further, but to his disappointment, she nodded as always, looking away from him.

He still doesn't get why she's always protecting that man. She wouldn't tell him anything, but he'd noticed the signs and he knew what they were.

The bruise marks and the scars and every time, she would lie about falling down the stairs, running into the door or whichever domestic accidents she could think of lying with.

However, what she doesn't know is that, he knows everything and can tell every time she's lying to him. He has the ability sense her fear and nervousness every time he asks about the man and he hears her heartbeat skip whenever she's lying to him.

She's a terrible liar. One of the worst he'd ever came across since he came to the city.

"You sure?" He asked purposefully and she nodded again, still looking away.

"Okay then." He sighed disappointedly,

"Erm...if he won't mind, I need you to work late tonight, please?" He asked her,

"Some guests are coming over by nine pm tonight and I'll need your help in serving them.

Don't worry, I'll drop you home myself." He offered, pleadingly.

Staring at her palms, Blaire weighed her options.

If she refuses, it'll hurt him and she doesn't want to hurt him. Plus, her father had told her he wasn't gonna be home early, so she has nothing to lose. She'll be back home before he returns and he wouldn't notice anything. Not to exclude the fact she would definitely need the extra cash.

"Okay."

"Is that a yes?" He asked to be sure, excitement evident in his voice. She confirmed her reply with a nod and he lunged for her, wrapping his arms around her.

Blaire was caught off guard by his action, she just stood there like a log of wood, not knowing how to react. She couldn't remember the last time she got such warm hug from anybody, so she didn't know how to feel about her boss hugging her.

"Thank you so much B, you don't know how much this means to me." He mouthed, still holding her in his embrace.

Blaire felt odd, although, it was a good type of odd and she didn't want him to pull away. The warmness and security his embrace gave her, she didn't think she ever wanted him to disengage the embrace.

However, good things hardly last and when he finally disengaged the hug and took a step away, she felt bereft. All the initial warmth were slowly evaporated from her.

"I'm sorry." He apologized to her in a barely inaudible tone. She heard him and nodded, raising her head up to meet his gaze, but he looked away.

She'd never seen him this shy before and it was quite amusing and cute too.

She thought to herself.

"I'll be in the kitchen with the chefs, if in case you need anything." And with those words, he turned and left in a haste.

Blaire didn't know she was smiling and staring, until he went over the counter and disappeared through the door that led into the staff's quarters.

She regained herself and registered herself with her surrounding.

Thank goodness no one has noticed that awkward scene.

Several hours later, it was seven pm and the staffs on afternoon shift were rounding up, closing for the day.

On normal days, the restaurant was open till nine pm, sometimes, even till ten pm. However, because of the guests he was having over, he decided they close earlier, to buy him more time.

Plus, his guests hated human company, most especially their leader. He knew because he was quite similar, but then, he'd gotten accustomed to humans, having lived in Topeka for almost five years. He's amongst the few ones in his kinds that can cohabit with humans. He'd allowed Blaire to stay back, because he knew she was just like them and they wouldn't find her presence irritating, except they get too nosy.

They wouldn't. After all, she's of no use to them.

Around seven thirty pm, the rest of the staffs were done and they bade him goodnight before leaving for their various destinations.

Few minutes after they'd left, Zayn put out the CLOSE sign after locking the front door and then, went to join Blaire in the kitchen.

"What are we preparing for your guests?" She asked him, when he came inside the well organized kitchen.

"I've no idea, but I was thinking roasted turkey, but then, I have no idea what to have it served with." He laid out to her, letting out a frustrated sigh afterwards.

"Turkey is a good idea, but it can't be served alone...." She paused, thinking for a few seconds, before adding,

"What about a side dish of cream spinach and roasted asparagus tips?" She offered,

"Or we could make some oven baked mac and cheese. Who said we can't serve mac and cheese with turkey?" She asked rhetorically and he chuckled, replying,

"None I've heard."

"Me neither." She seconded with a warm smile.

A smile that looked so good, Zayn couldn't stop staring at her.

She's the prettiest of their kind he'd ever set eyes on, although she doesn't know it. She doesn't even have the slightest idea who she really was. Too bad his cougar wasn't longing for her like he was doing.

She's definitely not his to keep.

Blaire noticed he was staring at her again and she decided to break the awkward silence,

"So, salad or mac and cheese?" She asked him, pulling him from his reverie and he faked a smile, realizing he'd been lost, staring at her.

"I think mac and cheese is a better idea." He concurred.

"Mac and cheese it's. What about desert and appetizer, let's not forget wines too?" She inquired and he sighed,

"English style clam chowder for appetizer. For desert..."

"We could bake!" She added almost excitedly, cutting him off,

"Vanilla cream cake are almost everyone's favorite." She explained in a less excited tone and Zayn smiled, concurring to her suggestion.

"Okay, then it's settled.

Turkey and baked mac and cheese, complimented with side dish of broccoli and cauliflower. English clam chowder and vanilla cream cake." He listed to her,

"And one more thing. On no account should there be garlic inside any of the dishes, no even a teeny weeny drop. My guests are allergic to garlic." He informed her and she nodded, taking his warning to mental note.

"Lest I forget, I've got some 2003 Latite-Rothchild Bordeaux down the cellar, it would compliment the dishes well." He added.

Although she knew little to nothing about wine, she nodded positively, knowing he had better taste in them and wouldn't make the wrong choice.

"Let's get to work then, we've got about..." He stole a quick glance at his watch, then averted his gaze back to her,

"We've less than eighty minutes to pull this up, we need to get to work now." He asserted, smiling optimistically at her.

"Okay." She exhaled, smiling back at him.

After several minutes of hard work and team work, they were done with almost all the dishes, except the cake which was still baking in the oven.

Zayn checked his watched for the umpteenth time since they started working and he smiled,

"We beat the time. We've about twelve minutes left." He mouthed proudly,

"We haven't beat time yet, Mister Creed." She pointed out to him and the smile on his face turned sour.

"What do you mean?" He asked sourly,

"We're almost done and the cake won't take up to ten minutes..."

"We still haven't set the table. What's a good service without good table setting?" She asked amusedly and he sighed, realization dawning hard on him.

"I totally forgot about that?" He mouthed,

"I should probably go set the table. The VIP diner would serve them well." He asserted, taking off his apron and his cap.

"Yeah it would." She seconded, picking up his apron and cap to go hang them in their designated position.

"Okay, I'll be right back." He assured her, before leaving the kitchen.

She double checked all their dishes, mentally marking each of them, before going back to wait for the oven timer to finally elapse.

Outside the restaurant, two expensive cars drove into the parking space allotted to the restaurant and they parked next to each other. The first one, a black Range Rover jeep opened and three tough looking, huge men in black suit, walked out of it, closing the door behind them and they matched towards the other car, a black Audi R8 Spyder.

They all stood back, while one of them opened the passenger door of the R8. A man stepped out of the car and the three men bowed in front of him, showing utmost respect for the man.

He was wearing a black tux and his hair were nearly gelled backwards, evidently, he came from money and was groomed in it. The men greeted him with a bow and he nodded accordingly, looking around the place they'd driven into.

Not bad for a humble start Zayn, not bad at all.

He thought to himself, sizing up the restaurant in front of them.

After sizing up the building, he stepped aside, creating space for the other man to slight the car.

Immediately the man alighted, everyone including him, bowed in total respect for the man.

"Welcome Alpha King." The men mouthed and he gave them a satisfactory reply, pushing the door close.

The man appeared to be in his late twenties or early thirties, all tall and huge, with striking handsome features, reeking of nothing but power, wealth and top notch grooming.

His looks commanded fear and respect from all. His bee spoke gray Giorgio Armani tux was complimented with a same design black leather shoe and a diamond encrusted Rolex wristwatch, that cost quite a fortune.

The man had a rather condescending look plastered on his face as he began to surveyed their surrounding.

"I can't believe Zayn would settle for somewhere as mediocre as this." He spat in utter disgust, still looking around the storey building restaurant, with the neon lightening DELA'S RESTAURANT, illuminating it's surrounding.

"I'd better expectations." He scoffed, turning to the other man,

"Are you sure this is the place, Lucien?" He asked the man next to him. He wanted to be sure they hadn't driven about two miles away, only to be at the wrong restaurant.

"Yes it's, Alpha King. This is the right place." The man assured him and he let out frustrated sigh, grunting something inaudible afterwards.

"Okay then, what are we still waiting for?" He asked them, walking towards the building and the men followed behind him.

Lucien brought out his cellphone and made a call to Zayn, informing him of their arrival.

Meanwhile, Zayn had spotted their cars drove into the parking space, a few minutes ago, so he went through with the table setting in a jiffy and hurried back to the kitchen to inform Blaire of their arrival.

"Go usher them in, I'll serve the dishes." She offered, smiling at him with great assurance.

"Thank you so much, B." He mouthed in appreciation, before whisking away to go usher his guests in.

Halfway to his destination, his cellphone started buzzing from his pant pocket. He fished it out and seeing the caller ID, he sighed, swiping the accept icon.

"I'm on my way." He informed the caller and then hung up the call with immediate effect.

His heart was racing in great anticipation and he was quite nervous, reasons he couldn't understand.

This isn't some top business client you're about to meet, Zayn. His subconscious self scolded him, glaring at him like he was some errant child.

He's your brother...or better still, your older step brother.

So stop acting like you're about to meet face to face with the devil.

Of course, he wasn't afraid of him, but there was something about his step brother that commanded fear and utmost respect from almost everyone he comes in contact with.

His always cold and stony expression instilled great fear in everyone, both older and younger. He possesses this domineering and aristocratic aura, it's quite a difficult task not to get nervous whenever he's present.

He's everything like his father, dangerously calm, unprecedented and mysterious, while him, he's everything like their mother, outwardly calm, very sociable and has great taste in almost everything.

Plus, he's a tribid creature, one of the strongest and rarest combination of two shifters and a vampire, unlike himself, who was just like every other shift. They are nothing alike, except, the same womb had bored them. Except that, they're nothing alike.

He pushed the transparent double door open and there he was, standing in the midst of four men, his right hand man and most trusted acquaintance, Lucien, standing next to him on his right side.

"Welcome Alpha Ryder." He mouthed to him politely, ushering them inside and closing the door behind them, rearranging the CLOSE sign.

When he turned to them, he noticed how he was looking around the restaurant with an uncomprehendable expression on his face.

"The diner is that way." He pointed towards the stairs and without saying anything, he started walking towards the stairs, his men towing behind him.

However, halfway through the stairs, he stopped abruptly and turned to them, and obvious frown on his face as he sniffed the air.

"What..."

"What's that smell?" He questioned immediately and Zayn felt his heart leaped.

Oh heaven, let it not be that he'd perceived her scent.

He can't be that fast, it's never this fast.

How long has it been?

"What smell, Alpha King?" Lucien was first to ask,

"I smell something, something....." He paused, surveying the restaurant, while looking for the most suitable and understandable way to explain the smell he was perceiving.