Blood Moon's Tears

Sama’el’s heart sank as his encounter with his brother, Lucian, played out in his mind. The bitter exchange between them echoed in his ears, each word laced with resentment and pain.

“What are yuh doing here?” Lucian’s voice dripped with contempt, his gaze filled with anger.

Sama’el stood his ground, his voice tinged with a mixture of defiance and desperation. “I was hoping, since the old man is gone, I would get a chance to see my daughter.”

Lucian’s eyes narrowed, his tone icy. “I thought he made it clear that she’s not yours anymore. You don’t deserve to have her as a daughter. So I suggest, if you want to continue breathing, you should leave. That is unless yuh don’t want to have a head anymore.”

Sama’el’s lips curled into a bitter smile, his voice dripping with bitterness. “You are so much like your father, little wolf.”

A surge of anger rippled through Lucian’s body, his voice laced with disgust. “You disgust me. So leave!”

Sama’el refused to back down, his determination was evident. “And why would I want to do something like that? I can smell new omegas in your pack. Just let me in for a few minutes. If not to see my daughter, then for the omegas. I still need a mate, you know, and maybe one of them might be the one.”

Lucian’s patience wore thin, his voice laced with a warning. “Leave. I won’t say it again.”

Sama’el’s gaze hardened, a coldness seeping into his words. “Just because I know how unhinged you can become, I’ll leave. But mark my words, little wolf. The longer I’m denied the chance to see my daughter, the longer I’ll torture you with something precious to you until you start to feel my pain. I may not be able to beat you now, but I promise you this—you better hope that I never find out what that thing is. I’ll make your torture slow, starting with your pack. I’ll make each member of your pack want to join mine willingly, and you’ll have no one in your corner to protect you.”

Lucian’s voice dripped with defiance as he retaliated. “I can assure you that yuh daughter doesn’t want to see you. She hates you, and even she knows what you did that day.”

Sama’el’s denial was swift, his voice filled with desperation. “She doesn’t. She’s too young to know anything.”

Lucian’s words struck like a dagger to Sama’el’s heart. “Yeah? Let me tell you this. Your daughter was born with her power, and the older she gets, the stronger it will become. She was born psychometric. The night we went to see what happened, she touched her locket and started screaming bloody murder. Recently, she told us she knew who her mother was and what happened to her. I don’t think yuh daughter wants to see you. Congratulations on having two females in your life who didn’t want anything to do with you. I used to love you like a brother, yuh know.”

Sama’el’s heart sank further as he absorbed Lucian’s final words. The animosity between them was palpable, the air thick with tension and unresolved emotions.

“Yeah, likewise. I’m sorry that I’m going to make your life a living hell,” Sama’el murmured, his voice filled with resignation.

Lucian’s eyes bore into Sama’el, his voice heavy with a mix of anger and sorrow. “Sure. And I’m sorry that yuh mother didn’t have the heart to kill you herself. I’ll kill you one day, I promise you that. But for now, I’ll make sure that your daughter is safe. I’ll make sure that she doesn’t have to seek revenge on her mother’s behalf. She’s too precious for that... A little spoiled, but precious. Now go!”

Sama’el’s gaze locked with Lucian’s for a fleeting moment, the weight of their shared history hanging between them. With a heavy sigh, he nodded. “Alright, I get it. I’ll leave... for now.”

The bar was dimly lit, the soft glow of the overhead lights casting a warm ambience over the room. It had been a long night for both of them, filled with tales of loss, regret, and the weight of past mistakes. Sama’el slouched on a barstool, and stared into his glass, the amber liquid sloshing gently with each movement.

“I see,” Kenji said, breaking the silence that had settled between them. He took a moment to process the weight of Sama’el’s words, and the complexities of his past and finally understood why his gift suggested wolfsbane. Sama’el most likely wanted an out but would never in a million years say that out loud. Deep down inside he wishes someone would end his suffering and pathetic life. Nevertheless, Kenji continued to suppress the burning anger that had built up over the course of his story.

Sama’el glanced up, meeting Kenji’s gaze with tired eyes. “Yeah, so she’s there,” he began, his voice heavy with a mix of gratitude and resignation. “Honestly, I’m grateful that she’s growing up in a good pack. A pack that will take care of her, protect her. A pack that won’t view her with predatory gazes, waiting for her to come of age so they can take advantage of her vulnerability during her first heat cycle. But that’s beside the point.”

Kenji listened intently, his brows furrowing slightly at the weight of Sama’el’s words. He wondered if the reason he never really fought to get his daughter back was that his pack’s subordinates are just as vile as him. He let the words hang in the air, allowing Sama’el to collect his thoughts before speaking again.

“Do you think you’ll get a second chance?” Kenji asked gently, his voice laced with a hint of curiosity.

Sama’el’s gaze shifted, his eyes drifting back to his glass as if searching for answers within its depths. “At what?” he replied, his voice tinged with a touch of resignation.

Kenji leaned against the bar, his eyes never leaving Sama’el’s face. “A mate,” he clarified, his words filled with a quiet understanding. “Someone that you can love again. I mean.”

A heavy sigh escaped Sama’el’s lips, laden with memories of a love lost. “My mate died six years ago,” he said, his voice filled with a mix of sorrow and longing. “To be exact.”

Kenji’s eyes narrowed slightly, his gaze probing. “Mmm,” he mused softly. “Not six years ago. According to the customers that visit, that pack you massacred disappeared almost four and a half years ago.”

Sama’el’s brows furrowed, his mind struggling to process Kenji’s words. The haze of alcohol clouded his thoughts, blurring the line between reality and his own recollections. “Yeah, well forgive me,” he mumbled, his voice tinged with a mix of bitterness and self-deprecation. “I am a bit drunk, you know.”

A small smile tugged at the corners of Kenji’s lips, a glimmer of amusement shining in his eyes. “Oh?” he remarked, a touch of playful sarcasm in his voice. “That’s the first time I’ve heard a drunkard admit that they’re drunk.”

Sama’el hiccuped, a sound that echoed through the bar, punctuating the heaviness of the moment. “Yeah, well, whatever,” he replied, the weight of his words softened by the haze of alcohol. Another hiccup followed, a gentle reminder of his intoxicated state.

Kenji reached behind the bar, his hand emerging with a glass of red liquid. He slid it toward Sama’el, the cool condensation tracing delicate patterns on the surface of the glass. “Ahah, here, drink this.”

Sama’el tilted his head to the side questioningly as he spectated the liquid. He never smelled anything like it before and despite its appearance, it doesn’t smell like what he assumed to be water-down blood. “What is it?”

“Something to get rid of your-” Sama interrupts him with another hiccup. “Hiccups,” Kenji assures.

“Yeah?” Sama’el began, letting out an audible ‘tsk’ for scepticism. “You have some kind of magic drink that gets rid of hiccups?” His voice held a bit of jest finishing the sentence.

Kenji’s retort was swift, “Yeah, I do. Maybe another day I’ll tell you why they call me the magician. Now drink it I can’t stand the sound of hiccups.” He finished, his facial expression slightly changing to one of irritation.

“Whatever, it is your bar. Alright…” Sama’el began as he held the glass to his head and cautiously drank half of it like a child that hated medication, but to his dismay when he rest the glass back down another hiccup escaped his lips. “It didn’t work.” He added, looking at the bartender annoyed.

“That’s because you need to drink the whole thing, moron,” Kenji quipped, his voice laced with a touch of playful sarcasm.

A mischievous glint flickered in Sama’el’s eyes, his lips curving into a smirk. “I’ll have your head, human,” he threatened, his voice tinged with mock seriousness. “Show some respect to an Alpha.”

Kenji chuckled, unfazed by the Alpha’s empty threats. “Yeah, sure,” he replied casually, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “I’ll give respect where respect is due.”

Sama’el rolled his eyes, the corner of his lips twitching with a mix of annoyance and amusement. He watched as Kenji’s gaze lingered on him, a silent understanding passing between them.

“I think you’ve had enough for one night,” Kenji said firmly, his voice carrying a touch of concern. “It’s time to go home.”

Sama’el pouted his expression a mix of defiance and longing. “Ah, come on,” he protested, his voice laced with a hint of desperation. “Just one more round of scotch.” He added before finishing the rest of the drink Kenji made him.

Kenji shook his head, his eyes locked with Sama’el’s. “No, sir,” he replied firmly, his tone leaving no room for negotiation.

“Don’t call me sir,” Sama’el grumbled, a flicker of irritation passing across his features. “It’s Sama’el!”

Kenji nodded, a knowing smile tugging at his lips. “Right,” he conceded, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and understanding. “Sama’el.”

Sama’el shook his head as he furrowed his brows. “No no, that sounds too formal. Call me Sama.” He insisted.

Kenji sighed, his patience wearing thin.

“Can you just leave, please?” Kenji pleaded, his tone tinged with exasperation. “I don’t like throwing people out.”

Sama nodded reluctantly. “Fine. I hear you,” he replied, defeated.

As Sama turned to leave, Kenji’s voice called after him, a touch of annoyance evident. “Hey, wait! Hey, you have to pay for that! My drinks weren’t free!”

Just as the tension began to ease, the tranquillity of the bar was shattered by a commotion. Chase heard what was going on and being drunk himself, stumbled into Sama on his way out, setting off a volatile reaction. The two immediately engaged in a heated fight, their anger fueled by alcohol. Kenji, not one to tolerate such behaviour in his establishment, stepped in to intervene. With quick and decisive action, he tranquillized both Sama and Chase, bringing an end to their brawl. The two troublemakers were then escorted out of the bar.

As the chaos subsided, a new voice broke through the air, drawing Kenji’s attention. It was Eriena, who was seeking his opinion on something.

“Hey, Kenji, what say you?” Eriena asked, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Kenji blinked, his mind still partially lost in the flashback. He focused his gaze on Eriena, taking a moment to collect himself. “Can you repeat the question for me?” he requested, his voice holding a touch of absentmindedness.

Eriena repeated her question, her eyes searching for guidance. “Do you think I should accept Sama as my mate?”

Kenji regarded her with a thoughtful expression, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for an answer but instead noticed that Sama had presumably left. After a brief pause, he spoke with conviction. “I see no reason why you shouldn’t,” he replied, his voice carrying a reassuring tone. “He’s your mate, is he not?”

Eirena’s voice wavered as she expressed her inner conflict. “He is, and that’s the problem. I didn’t expect him to be my mate. It feels wrong.”

Kenji furrowed his brows, trying to comprehend her dilemma. “I’m not following. Why is it wrong? I thought that finding your mate is supposed to be the greatest thing werewolves could ever experience.”

Eirena’s gaze turned distant, her voice filled with a mix of sorrow and bitterness. “It is, but how are you supposed to love someone that had a hand in murdering the only pack that took you in willingly with open arms?”

Kenji’s eyes widened in surprise. “Your pack was murdered? Are you sure it was Sama who did it?”

Eirena nodded, her voice carrying a resolute tone. “Yeah, I am. I could never forget his scent. I never saw their faces, but there were about 12 of them. The only thing I remembered was their scent. I’ve searched for six years to find the people responsible. I was on the verge of moving to another country to search for them elsewhere, thinking that they fled. I came here to get a drink from the bar the alpha always went on about, and that’s when I smelled him. Trust me, I was both excited and disgusted when we made eye contact, and I realized he was my mate.”

Kenji let out a sympathetic sigh, his gaze softening. “That sounds rough. I don’t have a mate of my own and never had one to begin with, so I can’t really give you an answer to the question. The most I can do is ask you what’s most important to you: getting revenge or experiencing a love like you’ve never had before?”

Eirena’s expression turned contemplative as she weighed her options. “Not sure. Let’s just keep this between us, okay? Also, in a hypothetical situation, let’s say I chose revenge; would you help me?”

Kenji’s eyes flickered with a mix of sadness and determination. “Why do you believe I would?”

Eirena’s voice carried a touch of certainty. “My alpha spoke about your bar almost every full moon, and all the unmated members were told that if we ever ran out of supplements, we should come here, and we would get a special drink without even asking for it. I know now that drink is the blood moon. So, I assume you two were close, and if that’s the case, wouldn’t you want to get payback on the asshole that killed your friend?”

Kenji nodded slowly, a glint of vengeance in his eyes. “I would, but revenge is best when it’s done slowly. Though I would say that revenge isn’t as sweet as you might believe.”

Eirena let out a weary sigh, her gaze downcast. “How would you know? Sigh Anyway, I should be off. I have work to do.”

Kenji watched her prepare to leave, a hint of concern in his voice. “You always work this late?” He asked as he glanced at the clock on the wall opposite the bar, noting that it was almost midnight.

Eirena shook her head with a small chuckle. “No, well, at least not often. I’m a bounty hunter on the days I feel most violent.”

Kenji nodded understandingly. “I see. Then, in that case, my lips are sealed. Do take this before you head out. As an extra precaution if you’re hunting werewolves.”

With a swift movement, Kenji prepared a Blood Moon and handed it to Eirena. “It’s on me tonight, for you’ve made my night a bit more interesting.”

Eirena’s eyes sparkled with gratitude as she accepted the drink. “Thank you, Kenji. I appreciate it.” She raised the glass to her lips and savoured the taste before finishing it in one smooth motion.