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 much

back momentarily, but my wolf’s voice, deeper and

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

more

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

more as a growl. I don’t keep them in my head

say them out loud, unable to contain

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

something.”

throat, frustration evident.

every dam n second.”

in his rebuttal, his wisdom clear. “Wanting and acting on it

now. You can’t simply push and expect

cold air

what my wolf says.

might be right,” I murmur, the weight of realization pressing

Earn her trust,” my wolf advises, his tone firm.

to assert and when

moment, lost in thought. The journey back to my apartment is nearing

my own

myself, thinking of Abby, of what I need to do. Tomorrow,

in agreement, its presence a

from over.

…

evening shadows stretch long against the hardwood floors of my apartment,

a solitary candle on the coffee

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

and countless brooding sessions—much like the thoughts

my mind.

a sour taste in my mouth. Every time I think of

intervene. But tonight, it’s

on the table beside me, momentarily

my ever-efficient secretary. Swiping to answer,

“What’s up, Gianna?”

in the tone of her voice, “there’s

know.”

I urge, straightening

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

coma,”

like to admit. My foster

grip tightens unconsciously around the phone. “Do we know