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

in so much

in the distance snaps me back

me again. “She’s changed. She’s not the young

now, more intricate, more

“Did you see her tonight?” I spit. “The lengths she went

come out more as a growl. I don’t keep them in

them out loud,

wolf muses, a soft chuckle punctuating my thoughts.

something.”

help the growl that rises in my throat, frustration evident. “She

every dam n second.”

clear. “Wanting and acting on it

cautious now. You can’t simply

air fill my lungs. It’s hard to admit,

what my wolf says.

right,” I murmur, the weight of realization pressing

trust,” my wolf advises, his tone firm.

assert and when to

moment, lost in thought. The journey back to

solitude of my own space. But I can’t wander the

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

My wolf rumbles in agreement, its presence a constant reminder that this

from over.

…

stretch long against the hardwood floors of my apartment, dancing in

of a solitary

my fingers mindlessly caressing the leather armrest of

weathered from time and countless brooding sessions—much like the thoughts whirling

my mind.

very mention of his name leaves a sour taste in my mouth. Every time I think of

it’s not just

buzzes to life on the table beside me, momentarily breaking my reverie. The

name, my ever-efficient secretary. Swiping

“What’s up, Gianna?”

she starts, a hint of hesitation evident in the tone of her voice,

know.”

on,” I urge,

seen around your foster brother’s residence. There’s talk that he might be

coma,” she

me harder than I’d like to admit. My foster brother’s reawakening would

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