Chasing His Kickass Luna Back

Abby

An arm loops around my waist, pulling me close as Karl's scent envelops me. I bury my face in his chest to protect myself against the scrutiny, and as tears stream down my face, I wonder how I'll ever be able to recover from this.

But then Karl's voice reverberates through the room, a commanding presence that silences the chaos around us. It's the voice of an Alpha, and every pair of eyes turns to him in an instant, obedient to his command

"Everyone, ENOUGH!"

The room falls into an immediate hush once more. The chaos stops, and people freeze in their tracks, their voices falling silent. Everyone turns to look at us, and as I lift my gaze to look up at Karl, I can see what feels like millions of eyes staring at me.

Karl then shifts his attention to me, his strong arms still holding me close. His warm breath brushes my ear as he whispers, “I'm going to fix everything, Abby. Trust me.”

I swallow as I look up at him. The determination in his gaze and the softness in his voice are a reassurance, but I'm not sure if it's enough.

The damage has already been done; people think I'm a fraud, a criminal, a good-for-nothing phony chef who intentionally poisoned the Alpha party and now intentionally poisoned this masquerade. I'm not sure if there's anything that Karl could possibly do to fix this mess.

Maybe I should have just stayed at home in the city after all.

Then, Karl turns his attention to the gathered pack members, his voice clear and unwavering as he speaks.

“I have an announcement,” he says, his voice clear and even. “And you all will listen instead of acting like a bunch of sheep, running around and falling victim to mass hysteria.”

A murmur makes its way through the crowd at his words. People seem to be intrigued, and maybe even a little embarrassed by their actions just now.

“The food here is perfectly safe to eat,” he continues. “And what happened at the Alpha party is under investigation. It appears that someone intentionally poisoned the food, and Abby was wrongfully framed.”

As Karl speaks, I feel a surge of gratitude and admiration for his unwavering support, but my relief is short-lived. Murmurs ripple through the crowd, and a feeling of skepticism fills the room.

“Is he just trying to save face?”

“What if he’s involved in this too?”

“They should share more details if they want us to believe them.”

I feel myself cringe at their words—of course they don't believe him. How could they? It feels as though the entire world thinks that I poisoned the Alpha party, and it's been two weeks of media hell. The doubt has not only taken route, but it has grown into an enormous oak tree.

But then, Karl's hand moves over his heart. My eyes widen ever so slightly as I look at him, wondering what he’s doing.

“On my Alpha Honor,” he says, “you can trust me.”

The room falls silent once more, but only for a moment before the doubt continues growing louder and more persistent.

"Alpha Honor? How can we trust him in a situation like this? What “honor’ does he have?”

“We need more information.”

“Alpha Karl, who framed Abby and why? You can't just throw out baseless accusations with no proof!”

The questions come in a barrage, but Karl's hand remains steadily over his heart as he continues, his gaze sweeping across the crowd. “I cannot reveal more at this moment,” he says, his voice stern as ever. “The investigation is ongoing, and we must trust the authorities. Trust me as your Alpha. The food here is safe, and Abby is no criminal. She was wrongfully framed, and the truth will come out soon.”

There's another brief silence. But then, a voice from the crowd speaks out, defiant and filled with doubt. “I don't believe him. This whole situation is fishy.”