Chapter 5: Mixed Emotions

Selene’s POV

I glanced down at his battered, dirty boots, barely managing to hide my disdain. “I don’t think I touched you,” I replied, trying to keep my voice calm and steady.

The man’s sneer widened, and he leaned closer, his breath heavy with the smell of cheap alcohol. “Don’t be difficult,” he said, his voice dropping to a threatening whisper. “How about you make it up to me? Join me for a drink, hmm?”

“I’m working,” I said, taking a step back, trying to maintain a safe distance. “I don’t have time for that.”

He moved quicker than I expected, his hand darting out to grab my wrist, yanking me closer. “Make time,” he growled, his other hand sliding up my thigh. His touch was rough and invasive, and I felt a surge of anger and panic.

I hastily dropped my tray on the adjourning table and pulled away, my heart racing. “Let go of me,” I demanded, my voice louder now, attracting the attention of a few patrons who looked over but quickly turned away, not wanting to get involved.

He laughed, a dark, mocking sound that echoed in the dimly lit bar. “Or what? You’ll scream? Go ahead. No one here cares.” He squeezed my wrist tighter, pulling me closer.

I felt a surge of desperation. My eyes darted around, looking for something to defend myself with. My hand found a heavy bottle on the table nearby. Without thinking, I grabbed it, raising it high, ready to swing and break it over his head.

Before I could strike, a strong hand wrapped around my wrist, halting my movement mid-swing. The force was unexpected but controlled, stopping me without causing pain. My breath caught in my throat as I turned, coming face-to-face with Lucian.

He was close, closer than I’d ever been to him before. His grip on my wrist was firm, and I could feel the heat of his hand against my skin. My pulse quickened, and my senses were suddenly overwhelmed by his presence. Gone was the intimidating suit he usually wore. Instead, he was dressed casually, in a simple shirt that clung to his frame and jeans that emphasized his lean strength. His hair, which was usually slicked back, fell in loose waves around his face, making him seem more relaxed, almost approachable. And yet, the power he radiated was unmistakable. Even dressed down, he exuded a confidence that was both unnerving and magnetic.

My heart pounded in my chest. For a moment, I forgot where I was, forgot about the man who had just tried to grope me. All I could see were Lucian's eyes—those deep, ink-like eyes that had haunted my thoughts since our last encounter. Up close, they were even more intense, more captivating. They bore into mine with a mixture of surprise and something else that sent a shiver down my spine.

Lucian’s gaze flicked from the bottle in my raised hand to my face, his lips curving into a slight, almost amused smile. “Didn’t I tell you?” he asked, his voice low, a smooth rumble that seemed to reverberate through my entire body. “If you want to survive here, you need to be more restrained.”

“Get lost.”

Lucian’s cold command cut through the noise of the bar like a blade. The middle-aged man who had been pestering me just moments ago scurried away, his bravado evaporating into thin air. I could still feel the heat from Lucian's hand where he had grabbed me. The warmth of his touch seeped through my clothes, making me feel uneasy. I couldn’t shake the memory of the wild, impossible fantasies that had flashed through my mind earlier. Being this close to him now only made it worse.

I took a small step back, trying to put some distance between us, but Lucian was too close. His presence was overwhelming. “Let go,” I said, my voice firmer than I felt. Whether intentionally or not, as he released me, his fingers lightly brushed against the back of my hand. The simple contact sent a shiver down my spine, and I had to fight the urge to flinch.

“Why are you here?” I demanded, doing my best to sound composed despite the unease curling in my stomach. I didn’t trust Lucian, and his sudden appearance in the bar felt like a warning, a sign of danger lurking close by. “You’re not exactly a regular.”

Lucian’s lips curled into a small, amused smile. “I’m here for a drink,” he said, his voice smooth and easy. “I heard your cocktails are popular. Thought I’d try one myself.”

I shot him a cold look, folding my arms across my chest. “I’m busy,” I replied curtly. “If you want a drink, you can ask Lilian at the front counter.” I turned to leave, hoping to put some distance between us and regain my composure.

But Lucian wasn't deterred. He reached out, gently catching my arm. "Selene Faye," he called out my full name, making every syllable sound like a calculated drop of knowledge. Chills ran down my back. When I had joined Umbra Pack, I suspected Lucian had someone digging into my past, but hearing him utter my name made the hairs on my neck stand up. How much did he know? How much had he uncovered about my past?

He continued, his voice dropping to a contemptuous sneer, "I know about Damien, about how he used his father's influence to exile you. How your own pack turned their back on you, scared to defend you against such power."

With that, he released my wrist and stepped back, breaking the connection that had held me in place. I felt the loss immediately, a strange emptiness where his touch had been. I tried to steady my breathing and calm the whirlwind of emotions his proximity had stirred in me.

My hands clenched involuntarily at my sides, my nails digging into my palms as old wounds were ripped open. The day after Damien broke our engagement, he flaunted his new mate to the Southern Pack. My humiliation had been complete when my pack sent gifts to his, effectively selling me out to maintain peace.

"Are you mocking me?" The question escaped my lips, a mix of anger and vulnerability threading my voice.

Lucian's expression softened momentarily, a hint of genuine sincerity flickering in his eyes. "On the contrary, I'm offering you a chance for retribution." His tone was serious now, the playful edge gone. "If you want, you could be the one to settle the score with Damien… even put a bullet in his head."

I stared at him, disbelief and confusion warring within me. His offer was tempting, a dark promise filled with the potential for vengeance, but something held me back.

"Do you want to kill those who betrayed you?" Lucian pressed, watching me closely.

I paused, weighing the heavy burden of hatred against the desire for freedom. Finally, I shook my head slowly. "I don’t want to kill anyone."

Lucian looked disappointed, his brows furrowing slightly. "Do you still have feelings for him?"

"No," I answered immediately, my voice firm. "It’s not about him. I just don’t want to be bound by hatred or revenge. I’ve lived my life for others, carrying the weight of their expectations and decisions. I’m tired of it. I want to be free, to be myself."

A look of disdain crossed Lucian's face. He pulled back slightly, his expression inscrutable. "Freedom is a precious thing," he said quietly, a trace of respect mingling with reluctance in his voice.

He straightened, his demeanor shifting as he prepared to leave. "Next time, I'll try one of those cocktails," he added, a meaningful smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

"Next time," he repeated. Something in his tone made me uneasy. It was clear Lucian had taken an interest in me, and not just for what I could offer him in terms of mixology. His motivations remained a mystery, shrouded in the charismatic enigma that was Lucian.

As he turned to walk away, I found myself wanting to reach out, pull him back, and ask him why he cared and kept stepping in. But the words wouldn’t come. All I could do was watch him go as my heart still pounded in my chest and my mind reeled with questions.

I knew I should have been relieved that the situation had been defused and he had intervened before things got worse. But all I could feel was a strange, aching tension that I couldn’t quite place, a desire to understand the man who had just walked away from me, leaving me with more questions than answers.

After Lucian's departure, a fleeting sigh of relief escaped me, my tense shoulders relaxing slightly. I scanned the room to recalibrate myself, only to catch sight of Kate peeking worriedly from around a corner. Our eyes met. Instantly, her expression shifted to one ready for flight.

“Kate, wait!” I called out before she could turn away.

She hesitated, her posture tense, but she didn’t dart off as I approached her. The ambient noise of clinking glasses and low conversations in the bar seemed to fade into the background as we faced each other.

“Kate, we need to talk,” I said firmly, reaching for her arm to guide her to a quieter corner of the bar.

Kate looked up at me, her eyes wide and brimming with unshed tears, a clear sign of her inner turmoil. “Selene, I… I thought you wouldn’t want to see me after… after everything.”

I took a deep breath, choosing my words with care. “I don’t blame you, Kate,” I assured her, my voice soft but steady. “Everyone has the right to choose their path. I understand that you’re different from the gang that hurt my mother. You’re just trying to survive.”

After my words, the dam broke. Kate burst into tears, her body shaking as she wrapped her arms around me in a tight embrace. As I held her, I felt the heat radiating from her body, her temperature unusually high.

“Kate, are you okay?” I asked, concern lacing my tone. “You’re burning up.”

Through her sobs, Kate managed to speak. “I’ve been so scared, Selene. Scared that you’d hate me, scared that I’d lose you. It’s been eating me up inside.”

Her confession brought a twinge of guilt. Rogues, when exiled by a pack, often experienced far higher mental stress than regular werewolves, and here was Kate, a friend in pain, needing help she couldn’t afford. In the Rogue Pack, only one Healer, Maria, could alleviate such ailments, but her services were a luxury few could afford.

As the proposed Luna of the most powerful pack in the South, healing had been part of my upbringing, a skill I was expected to master. I had undergone extensive training since my youth. If not for the chaotic turn my life had taken, I would have been training to qualify as a Healer after my engagement.

“Kate, let me try something,” I said, gently pushing her to sit. I placed my hands on her temples, closing my eyes to concentrate. The healing energy was a warm, familiar pulse against my palms, a comforting presence that flowed from me into Kate.

Moments passed. When I finally withdrew my hands, Kate looked up at me, her expression one of awe. “What did you do? I… I feel lighter like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.”

I smiled, a mix of relief and newfound purpose stirring within me. “I used some of the healing techniques I learned. You’re going to be okay,” I reassured her, feeling a profound sense of peace.

….

Lucian’s POV

As I left the bar, the echo of Selene’s words haunted me, taunting my every step.

"Living for oneself? What a joke," I muttered under my breath. Her voice, so earnest and determined, clung to my mind, a persistent whisper that grated against my convictions. How could she possibly believe that letting go of hatred was the path to freedom? Such naivety.

Umbra Pack… In this land filled with deception, bloodshed, violence, and betrayal, anyone with a brain wouldn't utter words like Selene's. Normally, I wouldn't even have bothered with such foolish talk. But Selene… I narrowed my eyes. There was something familiar about those deep blue eyes of hers.

As I walked, my thoughts were interrupted by a concerned voice at my side. "Your emotions seem unstable. Should I call Maria over?" The subordinate's voice was tinged with worry, but I had no patience for it that night.

I waved him off with a flick of my wrist, my irritation clear. "No need," I muttered sharply, my mind still wrestling with images of Selene’s defiant face, her words igniting a challenge within me. Could she truly be as free from her past as she claimed, or was it just a façade she presented to the world?

An idea began to take shape, dark and enticing. Perhaps it was time to have a little fun and see how deep Selene’s convictions ran.

"To tear off her hypocritical mask," I whispered to myself, the words a silent vow.