Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

Abby
The stage lights are blinding, but I try to focus on the announcer standing across
from me. His voice reverberates through the microphone as he begins his script.
“Ladies and Gentlemen... Welcome to the annual Alpha party cooking
competition! I’m your host, Heinrich Williams, and today I’m proud to
announce...”
One by one, the contestants and judges are introduced. Their faces are
projected onto giant screens that hang above us, and with each announcement,
the audience cheers and applauds excitedly. The announcer then asks each
Enter title...
person a couple of questions, giving them time to promote themselves before
the show begins.
As I’m waiting for my turn, though, all I can feel is crippling, soul-crushing fear.
How do I look? How will the audience respond? What will I say when it’s my turn

to talk? I wasn’t expecting all of this, and all I can think is that maybe if I had
showed up on time this morning, maybe I wouldn’t be feeling so unprepared.
But all the while, Karl stands beside me, steady as a rock. When I glance over
at him, I catch his brown eyes glinting in the light of the stage lights, and
something about it is grounding.
In an odd way, I’m almost glad to have him here. I thought that it would be a
disaster not to have John by my side, but this feels like a happy accident. My
wolf roils inside of me at his presence, attracted to his scent and closeness as if
he’s a lifeline in a stormy sea.
“And now,” the announcer booms, pulling me back to reality, “a chef who
captured your hearts with her interview yesterday. With her unconventional staff
and eloquent words about inclusivity in the culinary world—please give a warm
welcome to Abby!”
Suddenly, the crowd erupts into cheers, louder and more excitedly than I could
have ever imagined.

I blink in surprise.
Signs, actual signs with my name on them, being held up by people in the
audience. The word ‘Abby’ is written in colorful letters, hearts dotting the ‘i’ in
phrases like “Go Abby!” and “Team Abby”.
I feel Karl nudge my arm gently, a signal for me to step forward. My shoes click
against the stage floor as I move stiffly toward the microphone, my heart still
racing but now in a different way than before.
Is it true? Do people... really like me?
“Welcome, Abby,” the announcer says with a wide grin as I approach,
outstretching his arm. “Say a few words for your fans.”
As I lean in, ready to speak, my eyes drift across the stage and land on Daniel.
He’s stationed a few yards from me, and I can see the disdain etched into his
features, his lips curling into a sneer.
For a fleeting second, I wonder if I should adjust my speech to throw shade his
way. It would be so satisfying, to see his sneer turn into a pout, to see his
shoulders slump in defeat as he gets called out publicly for his nasty comments.
But I can’t; that’s not me, and it’s definitely not why I’m here. Why stoop to her
level?
I draw a deep breath and let it out slowly, steadying myself by gripping the mic
tightly.

“Wow,” I breathe, my voice bouncing back at me from the echo in the room in a
jarring way. There’s a bit of mic feedback from standing too close, and the room