Chapter 3

Ember's POV

Eight PM sharp, I walked into the main dining hall wearing combat boots.

Kieran had backed me up this afternoon, so I figured I'd throw him a bone—at least pretend to play nice in public. I wasn't completely unreasonable.

The dining hall was massive, long oak table loaded with roasted meat and hard liquor. The air reeked of blood and spices. A dozen high-ranking members were already seated, all muscle-bound men who looked like they could tear you apart bare-handed.

I'd changed into black leathers. Simple and practical. Around this crowd of roughnecks, dressing up would've looked stupid.

Then I saw her.

Raven sat in Kieran's right-hand seat—the Luna's seat. She'd changed into a red low-cut evening dress, busy cutting meat on Kieran's plate like some devoted little housewife.

"Kieran, try this," her voice was sugar-sweet, "I had the kitchen prepare your favorite medium-rare steak."

This bitch just won't quit.

I stopped at the head of the table. "Move."

Raven looked up, hatred flashing before switching to fake surprise: "Oh hey Ember! There you are!" Bright smile. "I'm just helping out here. Kieran's used to me sitting here, you know, taking care of him during meals. Since you're new and all, don't know his preferences yet—why don't you just let me handle this?"

Conversations around the table slowly died. Everyone watching.

"I said move."

"Look, I'm just trying to help," eyes watering on cue, "I mean, don't I even have the right to care anymore? I've been taking care of Kieran since we were kids. I know what he likes, what he doesn't like..."

I pulled a knife from my boot, turning it slowly. The blade caught candlelight.

"Last time. MOVE."

Raven saw the knife, went pale, but kept pushing: "Ember, look, can't we just talk about this? I really just wanted to—"

THUNK!

The knife slammed down next to her fingers. Handle vibrating.

"AHH!" Raven screamed, dropped her fork, nearly fell off her chair.

Dead silence.

I leaned over the table, staring her down: "Did I ASK you to sit here? You think you DESERVE this seat?"

Before she could answer, I grabbed her collar and shoved. Raven hit the floor hard.

I sat down, yanked out the knife, started cutting my meat.

"Kieran," I bit into the steak, glanced at him, "we got a problem here?"

Kieran raised his glass, blank face: "Course not. That seat's yours."

He looked around the room: "Everyone, let me officially introduce my Luna, Ember Nightwind."

The other wolves raised their glasses: "Long live the Luna!"

I nodded, kept eating. Not bad—kitchen knew their shit.

Raven looked sick but didn't run. She got up slowly, brushed off her dress, found a seat way down the table. Shot me poison looks but kept quiet.

Smart girl. Knows when to back down.

Halfway through dinner, Kieran spoke up: "So if you're free tomorrow, I'll show you around. Help you get familiar with the territory."

I was about to nod when Raven's voice cut in from down the table: "But, um, tomorrow's my father's anniversary..."

Soft voice, but everyone heard.

"I visit his grave every year," she looked at Kieran, tears ready, "and you promised you'd come with me..."

Kieran hesitated, glanced at me: "Maybe we should reschedule then?"

I put down my knife and fork, laughed coldly: "Don't bother on my account. Go wherever the hell you want. Don't use me as your excuse."

"Ember—"

"I said don't bother." I stood up. "Enjoy your dinner."

Walked out without looking back. Heard a chair scrape—probably Kieran trying to follow—but I was already gone.

Back in the master bedroom, I headed straight for the bathroom.

Hot water pounded my shoulders, cooling the rage. Damn Raven. Damn anniversary.

Last life, Elena must've dealt with this constantly. Every time she tried spending time with Kieran, that bitch had some excuse. Sick and needed care, nightmares and needed comfort, anniversary came up and needed company...

Sweet Elena always gave in.

But I'm not Elena.

I came out wrapped in a towel. Kieran was leaning against the doorframe.

"Done?" His eyes swept over my wet hair and bare shoulders.

"Shouldn't you be comforting your little girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"Oh yeah? What is she then? House pet?"

Kieran stepped closer, voice low: "She's an orphan. I've got an obligation to take care of her. That's it."

"Obligation?" I laughed bitterly. "How fucking touching. Let her sit in the Luna's seat, let her control your schedule..."

"I didn't agree to go with her tomorrow."

I stopped toweling my hair, looked at him.

"I told her to find someone else." Kieran moved closer. "Tomorrow I'm showing you the territory."

Air crackled between us. He was close enough I could feel his heat.

"Why?" I raised an eyebrow. "Afraid I'll get jealous?"

"Maybe." His hand touched my cheek. "Your possessiveness is stronger than I thought."

"Mine?" I grabbed his wrist. "Listen up, Kieran Darkmoon. I don't share. Not positions, not men. If you think you can play both sides, think again."

Something flickered in his eyes. Satisfaction?

"Only you," he said quietly, then kissed me.

This time I didn't push him away.