GennyGordonSA

“Rate that one,” Ethan whispered, sidling up to me as I tried to swallow my frustration.

He gestured toward another girl walking by with her father—a tall man with a belly that strained his too-small suit jacket.

“Girl’s a solid six,” Ethan murmured, barely holding back his grin. “Dad? Three. No, wait. Two-point-five. Those shoes are a crime.”

“Piss off,” I hissed, though the corner of my mouth twitched.

Teely joined him, holding two champagne flutes, one of which she offered to me. “You look like you need it.”

“Gee, thanks,” I muttered, downing the drink in one go. It didn’t help.

Teely laughed softly. “Relax, Luca. You’ll survive this. Probably.”

“Only because I haven’t strangled anyone yet,” I shot back, earning another chuckle from Ethan.

“Seriously, though,” Ethan said, dropping his voice. “You’ve gotta pick someone, or your dad’s gonna lose his mind. And let’s be honest, the guy doesn’t have much sanity left to lose.”

I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. “I’m not picking anyone. None of these people matter.”

“Your funeral,” Ethan said with a shrug, though there was a flicker of understanding in his eyes. He knew. He always knew.

The night dragged on, every interaction blurring into the next. Girls smiled politely, their fathers talked about alliances, and I nodded through all of it like I wasn’t seconds away from bolting out the door.

Then it hit me.

A scent. Faint, but unmistakable.

It was like rain on warm soil, mixed with something sweet and soft—something her. My chest tightened, my wolf snapping to attention like someone had just poured gasoline on a fire.

I froze, the world around me dimming as I tried to track it. My head snapped to the left, then to the right. Where? Where was it coming from?

“Luca?” Ethan’s voice sounded far away, like it was coming from underwater.

There.

My eyes locked on the grand staircase at the far end of the hall. A girl was descending, her dress shimmering in the light like it was made of emeralds. Her movements were slow, almost deliberate, and I couldn’t see her face yet. But I didn’t need to.

My heart hammered in my chest, each beat louder than the last.

She was holding the arm of a man—tall, broad-shouldered, and irritatingly familiar. But I couldn’t focus on him.

Not when she finally turned her head, her face coming into view.

Quinn.

My legs nearly gave out. My breath caught, my wolf howling inside me.

It was her. After everything, she was here.

And she wasn’t alone.

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Seventeen-year-old Quinn Wayne moves with her family from bustling New York City to a secluded, mist-shrouded town in Alaska, where her parents have purchased a dilapidated inn. Surrounded by dense forests and towering mountains, the picturesque town promises a fresh start—but Quinn quickly realizes it holds secrets far darker than she could have ever imagined.

In this epic journey of love, sacrifice, and self-discovery, Quinn must rise as the Lunar Guardian, embracing her newfound powers and her identity as Luca’s mate. The path ahead is uncertain, filled with loss, triumph, and transformation. But one thing is clear: the choices Quinn makes will forever alter the balance between humans and werewolves—and determine whether love can conquer even the darkest of curses.

Unwritten Mates

"Prepared?" I scoff, jerking my thumb toward my chest. "I'm the groom, Quinn. All I'm supposed to do is show up, say 'I do,' and not trip on the way to the altar. I'm already ahead of schedule."

"You're impossible," she snaps, shoving her chair back as she stands. "Fine. If you're not going to help, I'll do it myself."

"Oh no, you don't," I say, standing just as fast. The legs of my chair screech across the floor, and a couple of people glance our way. "You're not about to pull that martyr act on me, Quinn. Sit. Down."

"Make me," she shoots back, eyes blazing.

I'm around the table before I've even realized I've moved. We're toe-to-toe, face-to-face, both breathing harder than we should be. Her cheeks are flushed, her chest rising and falling in sharp, angry breaths. I'm close enough to see the fire in her eyes, that mix of fury and something else—something I'm not supposed to notice. Something I'm definitely not supposed to feel.

"You're so stubborn," I mutter, voice low, every word deliberate. "Trying so hard to be perfect. To be the perfect Luna. But why?"

Her eyes widen for a heartbeat, and I see it—that flicker of doubt, like I've struck a nerve she's been trying to bury. But she's quick. Too quick. Her lips press into a line, and she's back on the attack.

"At least I'm trying, Luca," she spits, voice sharp as broken glass. "At least I'm doing something instead of hiding behind idiotic and snarky comments and fake smiles."

That one hits me square in the chest. I'd be lying if I said it didn't hurt. But I'm not about to show her that.

"Oh, you're doing something alright," I shoot back, stepping even closer. We're barely an inch apart now, and I'm half-sure everyone in this café's waiting for one of us to throw a punch. "You're doing so much pretending you've forgotten who you actually are."

Her breath hitches. I see her throat bob as she swallows, hard. She's looking at me like she's trying to figure me out, trying to understand why I'm still here, still pushing her buttons. I'd tell her if I could. But I'm not even sure I know the answer myself.

"Why are you doing this, Quinn?" My voice isn't loud anymore. It's quieter, rougher. Raw. "Why are you trying so hard to be something you're not? You're not some perfect Luna. You're Quinn. Just Quinn. Isn't that enough?"

Her eyes shimmer—just for a second—like she's on the verge of breaking. I'm watching her so closely I swear I can feel it. Every bit of pain she's holding in. Every fear she's trying to swallow down.

I'm so close. Too close. I can feel her breath on my skin, see every freckle on her face, every fleck of gold in her eyes. My heart's hammering like it's trying to break out of my chest, and I'm pretty sure hers is too. My wolf starts whining within me to just touch her - even if its just once.

"Luca," she says my name like it's a warning and a plea all at once.

Her eyes flicker to my lips. She's fighting it. I'm fighting it too. I've fought it every day since this whole mess started, and I'm so tired of fighting.

"If you kiss me," she whispers, her voice shaky, like she's scared of what comes next, "I'll never forgive you."

"Good thing I'm not big on forgiveness," I murmur, voice rough as gravel.

We're inches away. Inches. Her eyes flick to mine, wild and wide, like she's daring me to do it. I'm so close I can—

The bell on the café door jingles, shattering the moment. We both snap back like we've been burned. Her gaze darts to the door, and I'm left standing there, feeling like someone's yanked the ground out from under me.

"This isn't over," she says, her voice steady again. Cold. Controlled.

"It never is," I reply, and as she storms for the door.

Chapter 78 - Close Encounter