Chapter 9 No Strings Attached
ELARA
The coffee shop is a blur of noise and motion around me. I am a stone in the middle of a river, unmoving. The only thing in focus is the small white card on the table.
Crescent Moon Pack.
A phone number.
It feels heavier than it looks. It feels like a trap.
My mind races, replaying his words. A family for those who don’t have one. No strings attached.
Lies. They have to be.
Alphas do not collect strays. They collect assets. They build power. I grew up at the right hand of one, and watching the son of another. I know what they are. They are calculating. They are ambitious. They do not do things out of the goodness of their hearts.
Damon’s voice echoes in my head, cold and final. You are a weakness I cannot afford.
Then Kael’s. I see a survivor. That is a strength most Alphas would kill for.
Two sides of a coin I did not ask to be part of. One casts me aside, the other wants to pick me up. But why? What could he possibly want with me? The wolf-less girl. The embers he spoke of. What good are embers when you need a fire?
I finally move. My chair scrapes against the floor, the sound jarring. I stand up, leaving my own untouched coffee on the table. I snatch the card, the sharp edge of the paper digging into my palm.
I walk out onto the street. The evening air is damp and cool. A city trash can sits on the corner, its mouth open and waiting. This is the place for it. An empty offer. A hollow promise. I should throw it away and forget I ever saw his moss green eyes. Forget he knew my name.
My hand moves toward the opening. I can picture the card falling, disappearing among coffee cups and discarded newspapers. My life can go back to the gray, silent safety I have built for myself.
My fingers will not open.
You are more than you think you are.
Damn him. Damn his quiet voice and his patient gaze.
I let out a frustrated breath and shove the card deep into the pocket of my jeans. I walk away from the trash can, my strides angry and quick. I am furious with him for finding me. I am furious with myself for hesitating.
My apartment is a sterile box. The silence I usually find comforting is now a roaring emptiness. I stand in the middle of the room and the four blank walls feel like they are closing in. He was right. I am alone. But it is a choice. It is my armor.
“I am not interested in your offer,” I say to the empty air. The words sound small. Weak.
I try again, infusing my voice with the cold formality Damon used. “Thank you for your interest, Alpha Kael. But I am not looking for a pack.”
It sounds like a rejection letter for a job I never applied for. It sounds pathetic.
He did not push. He did not command. He simply made an offer and left the choice to me. That is the most disarming part of it all. Damon never gave me a choice. Alpha Marcus never gave my father a choice. Power is meant to be used, to force hands. Kael did not.
It makes him either a fool or far more dangerous than I can imagine.
I pull the card from my pocket. I trace the simple black letters with my thumb. He invited me to visit. Promised a place where judgment is left at the door. I imagine walking into a territory full of werewolves. I imagine the looks. The pity. The whispers. The Beta’s daughter. The wolf-less one. The one Damon cast aside.
No. I cannot. It would be the same nightmare all over again, just with different faces.
“I decline,” I whisper. This time the words are for me. A confirmation. A promise to myself to stay safe. To stay hidden. To stay alone.
I walk over to the small desk in the corner and open a drawer. It is full of junk. Old receipts, pens that do not work. I place the card at the very bottom, under a stack of pay stubs from the library.
Out of sight.
I close the drawer. The sound is final. A decision made.
But I still know it is there. A tiny white rectangle burning a hole through the wood. A question I am too afraid to answer. An invitation to a home I can never have.