The Luna on a Chain

Raindrops streamed down the windows, tracing simple, delicate paths.

The rain had started so suddenly that I had to go back for my umbrella. The car keys were missing, which meant I'd have to pick my friend up from the hospital on foot-or sacrifice a few hundred for a taxi.

Opening the umbrella, I stepped out of the building and walked briskly down the sidewalk. Puddles had already formed underfoot, threatening to seep into my black pumps. The shoes were definitely a poor choice for the day, but I was already running late, and there was no time to turn back.

A sudden idea crossed my mind-to take a shortcut. My legs acted on it immediately, carrying me into the courtyards between the apartment blocks.

How quickly I came to regret that decision. The puddles here were enormous, some so wide I had to jump over them. During one of those leaps, one of my heels gave way and snapped.

"Of course," I muttered in frustration, limping onward.

But fate clearly wasn't finished with me yet. Out of nowhere, a gust of wind tore the umbrella from my hands, sending it flying into the unknown. I watched it disappear, cursed under my breath, and broke into a run toward the hospital.

By the time I stepped inside, I looked like one of their patients-limping, drenched, and sneezing.

Maya spotted me immediately and followed my path from the door to the waiting area with a bewildered stare. I collapsed onto a soft couch and let out a breath of relief.

"Vera, what happened to you?" my friend asked, looking me over from head to toe.

"My heel broke on the way, and then the umbrella flew off."

"You walked here? What about the car?"

"I can't find the keys. We'll take a taxi back."

She gave a crooked smile.

"The discharge papers aren't ready yet. We'll have to wait a bit."

I sighed in annoyance and leaned back against the cushion. After flipping through a few magazines on the table, I began to fidget. My clothes clung to my body-cold and uncomfortable. Lucky me.

Then the woman at the reception window stirred, glanced up, and called Maya over. Finally. While my friend signed her papers, I pulled out my phone and ordered a taxi.

When I looked up again, she was still busy writing something, and behind her stood a tall, broad-shouldered man. Darkness seemed to coil around him, and the air itself felt charged with danger. I narrowed my eyes, studying him-wide, muscular shoulders, black wavy hair. But his face-I couldn't see it. He leaned slightly toward Maya, as if... smelling her. Odd, to say the least.

Then his hands, clasped behind his back, began to change. My heart dropped to my heels when I saw black, sharp claws glinting where his fingers had been.

A werewolf.

Panic seized me.

"Maya!" I shouted. The man straightened instantly, as if nothing had happened. "Come on, let's go! The taxi's here."

Maya grabbed her documents and hurried toward me. We had to leave-fast-before that flea-bitten creature caught our scent.

We walked out without looking back. Still, curiosity got the better of me, and I glanced over my shoulder. The hall was empty. Only the nurse remained behind the reception glass.

Once outside, we got into the car and drove home. We had plans for a girls' night-wine, laughter, and secrets to share.

And as soon as the house filled with the cheerful chaos of preparation, the stranger from the hospital slipped from my mind.

Two of Maya's friends came over that evening. I didn't know them well, but I welcomed the chance for pleasant company. The girls had been friends since university and eagerly reminisced about old times.

Apparently, Maya had been quite the heartbreaker back then-chased by hordes of boys-though she herself had loved someone who never loved her back.

Hearing those fragments of her past was oddly comforting. They kept trying to draw me into their confessions too, but my own secrets were buried deep-locked behind seven keys.

After plenty of drinks and laughter, we sent the girls home in a taxi and finally went to bed.

"Stop!"

The scream tore through the darkness, sharp enough to split it open.

It felt like it came from my throat-and yet it wasn't me at all.

Around me stretched nothingness, thick and suffocating, as if I stood inside a storm cloud. The air pulsed. Every breath burned; every sound was swallowed by the dark. Then, slowly, out of that void, a shape emerged-a massive gray wolf, his fur rippling like smoke. His eyes glowed with an unnatural yellow light, fixed on me-unblinking, ancient.

He didn't move. He only watched, and somehow I knew he wasn't an ordinary creature. There was intelligence in that gaze, and something else-sorrow. For a moment, I even thought he might speak. But instead, the scene shifted, flickering like a broken film reel.

Now he stood sideways, his whole body taut, ready to spring. His lips curled back, baring long white fangs. Opposite him stood a young man-barely more than a boy-with fear frozen on his face. I wanted to move, to call out, to stop what was about to happen, but my body was no longer mine.

"Wait!" my voice rang out again from somewhere in the darkness.

The wolf lunged.

A flash of light-then pain seared across my cheek, dragging me back to reality. I gasped, sitting upright. The scream still echoed in my throat, leaving it raw.

Maya sat across from me, glaring. The pale light of early dawn bled into the room, turning everything faint and unreal.

"Why are you screaming like a lunatic?" she snapped. Her tone carried that strange blend of worry and irritation only she could manage. She'd seen this before-far too many times.

"Bad dream," I whispered, my voice hoarse.

My hand went to my face. My cheek throbbed and felt warm to the touch-probably red. I half-smiled despite myself. "Nice way to wake me up."

"Want me to lie down with you?" Maya's voice softened.

I nodded. She slid under the blanket beside me, the warmth of her presence oddly grounding.

"Maybe you'll finally tell me what it is," she murmured. "What you keep dreaming about. You scream like someone's killing you."

For a long moment, I stared at the ceiling. The room still felt too bright, the dream too close. My chest rose and fell in uneven breaths, and the image of those yellow eyes hovered just behind my eyelids.

"Every night," I said at last, my voice barely above a whisper, "I dream about the death of the man I loved."

Maya inhaled sharply. I felt her turn toward me, searching for words-but there were none.

So we lay there in silence, side by side. The morning light slowly painted the room gold-soft and forgiving, as if pretending none of it had happened. My heartbeat finally slowed, though the ache in my chest remained-familiar and unrelenting.

Outside, a bird began to sing. I closed my eyes, and for a moment, the sound almost made me believe I could fall asleep again.

"Did you find the car keys?" Maya shouted from the hallway.

"No!" I called back-and immediately caught the hem of my trousers, crashing to the floor.

A loud stream of decidedly unladylike curses spilled from my perfectly painted lips. As if oversleeping for work wasn't bad enough-now this falls on top of it. I scrambled to my feet, dusted myself off, fixed my hair, and took my place by the front door, fully dressed and ready to go.

Maya was darting around the apartment like a trapped rabbit. I watched her for a moment, then sighed.

"What are you looking for?" I asked.

She froze, turned to me with wide, worried eyes, and said, "I think I left my purse at the hospital last night."

Great. Just great. After muttering a few choice swear words, we rushed out. Our delay would be noticed immediately-Maya was the head chef at the restaurant, and I was the manager. Basically, nothing started without us. We decided we'd go back for the purse after work.

The café, Peach Paradise, was already open. Maya slipped through the back door into the changing room while I went straight to my tiny office. My day was packed with paperwork, so I booted up the computer and began filling out delivery forms and invoices. Time flew.

There was a knock at the door.

"Come in," I said, setting the documents aside.

One of the waitresses, Lera, stepped inside.

"Vera, a customer is asking for you."

Great-trouble. Things had been so peaceful until now. I sighed and gave her a sharp look.

"What's going on? Who's serving that table?"

"I am," she said, "but I have no idea what the problem is."

"Let's go find out."

I followed her into the dining area. At one of the tables sat an attractive man in a suit and an elegant brunette. The man looked oddly familiar, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't place where I'd seen him before. Pushing the thought aside, I put on my professional smile.

"Good afternoon. I'm the manager, Vera. How can I help you?"

"Good afternoon," the brunette replied with a smile. "This pastry"-she gestured toward the plate-"is so wonderful that I simply couldn't leave without meeting the person who made it."

"Lera," I said to the waitress behind me, "would you please call the one who prepared that pastry?"

Then, turning back to the guests, I added, "We're so glad you liked it."

Before they could respond, another waitress called my name from across the room. I excused myself and stepped aside to take a call from one of our suppliers. While speaking on the phone, I kept my eyes on the table.

Where had I seen that man before?

Then I held my breath.

The pastry had been made by Maya. Her hands could turn dough into magic. I had to admit, my friend deserved every bit of praise coming her way. When I hung up, I allowed myself a small smile as I watched Maya's eyes sparkle while she spoke with the brunette.

My gaze shifted to the man.

He looked somewhat stern. His eyes moved slowly over Maya from head to toe, as though she were the dessert meant for him.

"Vera," my boss called from behind me, "come to my office."

"All right, Mr. Viktor," I replied, casting one last glance at my beaming friend before heading inside.

I closed the door behind me and sat down opposite his desk. Viktor sank heavily into his chair. The years were catching up with him; running the restaurant had become increasingly exhausting. Still, he stubbornly held on to the reins, waiting for his grandson to grow up so he could pass the business on.

"Vera," he began, using that deceptively gentle tone that always meant he was displeased, "how did you miss the dairy order? We had to remove half the menu today."

I sighed, bracing myself. "Mr. Viktor, I did warn you that this supplier was unreliable. Let me remind you-it was you who insisted on working with him."

After forty exhausting minutes of his lecture, I left his office feeling completely drained. The stress of the past few days needed to be dealt with-preferably with something sweet, and alone.

At the end of the day, Maya came to get me, and we headed home together.

The moment we stepped out of the café's back door, a wave of dread washed over me.

I froze, scanning the alley for its source. It was as quiet and empty as always. Maya noticed my unease, hooked her arm through mine, and tugged me forward.

"What's with you? You're looking around like a startled deer."

"I've got a bad feeling," I murmured.

"Don't worry," she said with a grin. "This time I'll make sure trouble doesn't get anywhere near you."

But my instincts were right.

At the end of the alley, two tall men in black suits appeared, blocking our path. Maya let go of my arm and took a cautious step back. I kept my eyes fixed on them. If they were ordinary men, I could take them down easily-but if they were werewolves...

A sound behind us made me spin around.

A few steps away stood the man from the café-the same one who had been sitting with the brunette. My friend was slung over his shoulder, unconscious.

Now I remembered where I'd seen him before.

He was the werewolf we had encountered at the hospital the night before.

"Let her go!" I shouted.

The man smiled-or rather, bared his teeth.

"I wish I could," he said, "but she's mine now. As for you... Well, we can't have any witnesses."

Fear surged through me. Werewolves never hesitated to erase their tracks. I glanced behind me; the two men were still standing there, watching.

Slowly, I reached for my purse.

The man noticed and sneered.

"Don't do anything stupid. I doubt there's anything in that purse that could help you."

My fingers trembled as I opened it, pulled out a small spray can, and pointed it at him.

He burst out laughing.

"And what exactly are you planning to do with that?"

"Oh, hell no! I'm not handing my friend over to you fang-faced bastards!" I shouted, spraying the contents of the bottle straight into the man's face.

At first, he inhaled slowly through his nose with exaggerated composure-but within seconds, he clutched at his throat and dropped to one knee, still gripping his burden.

The men behind him stirred, and without hesitation, I spun around and sprayed them too.

None of them had expected that kind of reaction from an ordinary spray. Of course they hadn't.

I had been hiding from werewolves for nearly two years now-my defenses were designed specifically for them, not for humans.

The first one was already recovering from the tranquilizer, so I didn't waste any time. I yanked my friend off his shoulder.

The man snarled, fury blazing in his eyes, and the first ripples of partial transformation spread across his arms.

That wasn't good.

Dragging my friend a few steps back, I tried to hoist her over my shoulder-but the world suddenly tilted.

A second later, I found myself hanging upside down over a broad, muscular shoulder.

The bottle of precious liquid slipped from my fingers and struck the pavement with a dull, tragic clink.

Clenching my fists, I kicked wildly and hurled every curse I knew.

They shoved me into a black SUV.

Remarkably, not a single person on the street reacted-no one attempted to stop a group of men abducting two women in broad daylight.

Two massive men flanked me in the back seat, boxing me in. The engine roared to life, and the car pulled away.

The man who had forced me inside took the passenger seat beside the driver. I didn't dare make another sound.

A quick glance around confirmed what I already suspected-werewolves.

Each one of them was large, powerfully built, radiating danger.

"What do you want from us?" I finally managed to ask.

The man in the passenger seat turned around and gave me a slow, deliberate once-over-from head to toe.

For the first time, I could see him clearly: dark eyes framed by thick lashes, a straight nose, full lips faintly flushed, and a shadow of stubble along his jaw.

He looked strikingly similar to the one who had grabbed my friend-but younger.

Brothers, most likely.

He offered a lazy smile and said, "Judging by that mysterious spray you used on my brother, you already know our world exists. Your friend-she's the true mate of our Alpha."

Oh, wonderful. Maya had truly hit the jackpot this time. The Alpha himself. She would never be free of him now-not in a hundred years.

Lost in my thoughts, I began mapping out possible escape routes-where we could run, how we could disappear.

The man watched me the entire time.

"So tell me, sweetheart," he said with a crooked grin, "how exactly do you know about werewolves? You smell human-but not entirely."

I met his gaze, choosing my words carefully.

"I've encountered your kind before," I replied evenly. "It wasn't a pleasant experience."

The glare I gave him didn't unsettle him in the slightest-if anything, his amusement deepened.

"Why did you take me?" I demanded.

"For company. Once we're certain you won't talk, we'll let you go."

"And if Maya doesn't want to stay-will you let her go too?" I asked, masking my tension with feigned innocence.

He chuckled softly. "Didn't you say you understood our world? How many Alphas do you think allow their mates to walk away?"

"I won't let you hurt her," I said firmly, a sharp edge entering my voice.

He threw his head back and laughed.

"Hurt her? No one is going to hurt her. The only danger she faces is too much pleasure. Trust me-Kirill knows exactly how to handle a woman's body."

Heat rushed to my cheeks. I lowered my gaze to my lap and fell silent.

An uneasy silence settled over the car, though it didn't last long.

"What's your name, beautiful?" he asked again.

His smug tone grated on my nerves. I had to swallow a cutting reply.

"Vera," I said curtly, turning to stare out the window.

We left the city behind and entered a suburban district-rows of expensive cottages flashing past in the fading light.

Eventually, the SUV veered into the woods and came to a stop in front of a massive two-story house surrounded by a tall fence.

They locked me in a small guest room and told me to get some sleep.

Every attempt I made to ask about Maya was ignored.

Through the window, I spotted several large werewolves patrolling the grounds.

Escape? Impossible.

There was a shower in the room, so I washed up and lay down on the bed.

Sleep refused to come. Every faint sound made my body jolt.

Sometime after midnight, I rose and crept toward the door.

To my surprise, it wasn't locked.

I turned the handle carefully and peered into the hallway.

Empty. Silent.

Barefoot, I padded down the corridor. Voices drifted from somewhere ahead.

I stopped, straining to listen. It was them-the werewolves.

"Tell me," one voice said, "why are you here drinking with me instead of... studying your mate's body?"

"I didn't want to frighten her. My story already shocked her enough, so I gave her a sedative. Let her rest.

But you-you've created another problem. Why the hell did you bring that second girl here? The guys could've buried her in the woods and spared us the hassle."

My heart sank.

They had truly intended to kill me.

God, how I hated them. Werewolves always played by their own rules, and humans were collateral at best.

I clenched my teeth, forcing my anger down.

Lost in thought, I failed to notice when the voices fell silent.

Then, right beside my ear, a low voice murmured,

"Aren't good girls supposed to be in bed right now?"

My entire body went rigid. Slowly, I turned-and met glowing yellow eyes in the darkness.

A chill traced its way down my spine.

"Would you like me to walk you back?"

Before I could respond, he seized my arm just above the elbow and escorted me back to the room.

This time, he locked the door behind me.

There was nothing left to do but lie down-and pretend to sleep.