Chasing His Kickass Luna Back by Jane Above Story

#Chapter 40: A Way Out
Karl

The sting of rejection pulses through me, acute and raw, as I distance myself from Abby’s place.

My footsteps echo through the quiet city streets, the usual hustle and bustle of the nightlife seemingly

dimmed tonight. Each step aligns with the rapid beat of my heart.

I can’t shake the feel of her, the nearness of our last moment.

Abby looked beautiful. She clearly put a lot of effort into her appearance today; her hair and nails

looked freshly done, she was wearing makeup, and a gorgeous dress.

A few years ago, I might have been bothered by the way that she dressed tonight. But lately, for some

reason I’ve been finding myself attracted to it. She’s se xy, always has been, but is somehow even

sexier now.

But what pi sses me off more than anything is that she was dressing like that for another man who

doesn’t even show any interest in her despite the ring he put on her finger. What gives? Why won’t she

just leave him already?

Shoving my hands deep into my pockets, I aimlessly kick a small rock ahead of me. Its journey,

haphazard and unpredictable, mirrors the state of my own emotions.

“She wanted me,” I find myself mumbling aloud, holding onto the raw intensity of our almost-kiss.

My wolf stirs within, a familiar presence anchoring my thoughts. “She did,” he rumbles in agreement.

“But she held back. If you’d just be patient and let her come to you, she’d see the depth of our love”

“I did let her come to me,” I reply. “She’s the one who called me tonight. But at the end of it, she still

can’t stop thinking about that pr ick.”

My wolf growls in annoyance. “Give her time.”

The anger is right there, bubbling at the surface. “Time? And for what? For Adam?” I snap, frustration

bleeding into every word. “Who leaves their fiancée high and dry like that? Especially when she clearly

so

snaps me back momentarily, but my wolf’s

again. “She’s changed. She’s not the young girl we once knew. She’s

more intricate, more

spit.

The words come out more as a growl. I

say them out loud, unable to contain

chuckle punctuating my thoughts. “She resisted you. That tells

something.”

throat, frustration evident. “She wants me. It’s palpable. I felt

every dam n second.”

calm in his rebuttal, his wisdom clear. “Wanting and

cautious now. You can’t simply push and

drawing in a deep breath, letting the cold air fill my lungs. It’s hard

what my wolf says.

murmur, the weight

her the change. Be genuine. Earn her trust,” my wolf advises, his tone firm.

assert and when

lost in thought. The journey back to my apartment is

own space. But I can’t

myself, thinking of Abby, of what I need to do. Tomorrow, I’ll find a way to

agreement, its presence a constant reminder that this fight, this pursuit,

from over.

…

the hardwood floors

flicker of a

my fingers mindlessly caressing the leather armrest of my chair. It’s

weathered from time and countless brooding sessions—much like the

my mind.

taste in my

to intervene. But tonight, it’s not just

life on the table beside me,

name, my ever-efficient secretary. Swiping to answer, I keep my voice

“What’s up, Gianna?”

of hesitation evident in the tone

know.”

I

residence. There’s talk that he might

his coma,”

like to admit. My foster brother’s reawakening would

of our pack. My grip tightens unconsciously around the phone. “Do we know