Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Karl

The sun has barely made its morning ascent into the sky by the time I'm pulling into Ethan's gravel driveway.

The tudor-style facades of his mansion catch the golden early morning sunlight, and it's actually quite beautiful. A row of four stained glass windows on the front of the house, each depicting the same tree in a different season, absorb the golden sun and seem to glow with color.

One thing is for sure: Ethan has always had good taste when it comes to his home. I just wish he had the same good taste when it comes to women.

I can't help but let a sigh out as I pull up the driveway. Maybe it's a bit earlier than it should be, but after what happened at dinner last night, I felt as though I couldn't wait.

I've driven to his house as my very first task of the day, hoping to catch him before he's too wrapped up in his own duties. My goal is simple: talk to my brother, reason with him, and try to make him see the truth about Gianna.

As I walk up to Ethan's front door, my mind whirls with memories of what Abby said last night. She was right; I shouldn’t place the blame entirely on my brother. He was in a coma for years and lost his entire biological family to the same disease that put him in the coma, and Gianna had all that time to sink her claws in.

There's no telling exactly what she said to him while he was in the coma, and there's certainly no telling what sort of lies she’s whispering into his ear now. I'm certain that it was her idea when he offered to take over as Alpha, and I wouldn't be one bit surprised if she isn't spinning all sorts of webs of deceit now that she’s his “election manager’.

It just pisses me off. Whatever Gianna wants from me, she should have brought it up with me—not my sick brother. But it's too late now, and all I can do at this point is hope beyond hope that he'll see some sense.

Either way, I'm not sure how he'll react to what I have to say, but it needs to be said. I raise my hand to knock on the door, but before my knuckles can make contact with the wood, the door swings open.

And there she stands: Gianna, with that smug fucking smile plastered on her face as if she's been waiting for me.

“So she’s living with him now?” my wolf, just as angry as I am, hissed inside of my head. “What a little leech.”

"Ah, Karl,” Gianna purrs, her voice dripping with false sweetness. “What a surprise to see you this morning after your stunt last night. Are you here to see Ethan?”

I nod, my jaw clenched. I need to keep calm, to show restraint. Reacting like I did last night, no matter how much Gianna irks me, won't help anything. “Yes, Gianna,” I manage. “I need to talk to him. Is he here?”

She scoffs. “Perhaps he'll consider speaking with you,” she says. “But don't hold your breath.”

She steps aside to let me in, but her eyes never leave mine. As I enter the house, I can feel her gaze lingering on me, as if she’s trying to size me up, to figure me out. It sends a shiver down my spine, but I push the discomfort aside.

Ethan is in the living room, sitting on the couch and flipping through this morning's newspaper. He looks up when he hears us enter, and his eyes widen slightly when he sees me.

“Karl?” he says, setting aside the newspaper. "What are you doing here?”

I take a deep breath, trying to find the right words. “Ethan, we need to talk,” I say, glancing over at Gianna. “Privately.”