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

car horn in the distance snaps me back momentarily, but my

changed. She’s not the young

more

takes hold. “Did you see her tonight?” I spit. “The

that dress…” The words come out more as a growl. I don’t keep them in my head

say them out loud, unable

soft chuckle punctuating my thoughts. “She resisted you.

something.”

my throat, frustration evident. “She wants

every dam n second.”

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

heart. She’s cautious now. You can’t

in a deep breath, letting the cold air fill

what my wolf says.

right,” I murmur, the

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

to assert and when to

in thought. The journey back to my apartment is nearing its end,

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

I whisper to myself, thinking of Abby, of what I need to

its presence a constant reminder that this fight,

from over.

…

hardwood floors of my apartment, dancing

flicker of a solitary candle

caught in contemplation, my fingers mindlessly caressing the leather armrest of my chair. It’s

brooding sessions—much like the

my mind.

very mention of his name leaves a sour taste in

tempted to intervene. But tonight, it’s not just

on the table

my ever-efficient secretary. Swiping to answer,

“What’s up, Gianna?”

she starts, a hint of hesitation evident in the tone of her voice, “there’s

know.”

I urge, straightening

your foster brother’s residence. There’s

coma,” she

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

pack. My grip tightens