Chasing His Kickass Luna Back Chapter 359

Karl

“And stay out!”

The guard shoves me away with so much force that I nearly pitch forward onto my knees on the front lawn. All around us, curious guests watch and whisper in hushed tones. I turn, dusting myself off, and bow theatrically to the crowd.

“Enjoy the show, everyone,” I chide them. “Go on, why don’t you take a picture?”

At my words, the other guests roll their eyes and turn away. I huff and storm off down the driveway with what little dignity I have left and begin heading back toward where my car is parked along the side of the road.

“I can’t believe it,” I mutter under my breath as I storm off. The winter wind bites at my flushed skin, a perfect contrast from the heat I feel inside. “Did you see the look in her eyes? Like I had hit her!”

My wolf growls in agreement in the back of my mind. “Something was indeed… off,” he mutters. “I don’t like that Damon character.”

I let out another snarl as I whip open my car door and climb into the driver’s seat. As I put the keys in the ignition and the console lights flicker to life, it’s all I can do to restrain myself from hitting my hands on the steering wheel.

“Trust me, I don’t like him right now either,” I growl. “And I don’t like how he seems to be rubbing off on her. Everything seemed okay until he showed up just now. It’s like he—”

Suddenly, recognition dawns on me. My eyes widen slowly as my hands tighten around the steering wheel. “Wait,” I murmur. “Do you think…”

My wolf shifts uncomfortably. “It’s not unheard of,” he muses. “He’s not just an Alpha, but also a prince; with that sort of lineage, who knows what sort of abilities he has.”

I swallow as the idea dawns on me. The power of authority… It’s an uncommon ability, to say the least.

These days, most Alphas have various abilities; nightvision, speed, strength to name a few. But nothing so manipulative as authority. That ability has been long since outlawed and bred out of existence.

After all, the ability to make someone fall still and silent with one touch is far too powerful and, frankly, dangerous.

“I wonder if he used it on her just now,” I whisper. I slowly turn my head to look out the window, back up at the sprawling estate.

The party has returned to its earlier thrum as though the other guests have already forgotten the spectacle, and I can’t help but wonder if Abby has returned to her merrymaking with the prince, too.

I mean, if he’s capable of using his authority on her when it comes to me, her fated mate, then when else could he use it?

In fact…

I reach into my pocket and pull out the crumpled note that I’ve been carrying around for the past few days and reread it for the millionth time. It’s in Abby’s handwriting, yes, but did she truly write it of her own accord?

A low growl rumbles involuntarily in the back of my throat at the notion. But right now, the guards are headed my way; they want me to leave.

And I will.

But I will be back later to find out the truth.

The car roars to life as I shift it into gear. With one last unsavory gesture at the guards, I rev the engine and whip down the winding road—away from this damned party and this damned prince. I need to think, plan, and most importantly…

I need to make sure Abby is safe.

…

The last embers of my cigarette float to the ground beneath my window. I know I’m not really supposed to be smoking here, but no one seems to notice—or maybe they just don’t care.

“You know you shouldn’t smoke,” my dad used to tell me. “It’s bad for your lungs.”

“We’re all dying, dad. Some of us just sooner rather than later.”

My dad never liked that, obviously. He’d always snatch the cigarettes out of my hand, but as a rebellious teenager, I always kept an extra pack hidden in my room. Not that I ever really smoked more than one or two once in a great while, though. Once pack often lasted me many months.

But I think it was the act of doing something that I wasn’t supposed to that intrigued me more than the smoking itself.

Now, though, it’s just an old habit. A pathetic effort to calm my rigid nerves.

As I watch my last puff of smoke float up into the winter night air, I shake my head. “I still outlived you, dad,” I mutter with a wry chuckle.

Maybe, if he were my real father, I wouldn’t have outlived him. But the damn genetic disease coursing through my adoptive family’s bloodline wiped all of them out. All except for Ethan, who just got lucky, and me—the one adopted son.

It’s easy to forget, sometimes, that I’m not really related to any of them. After all, they took me in when I was just a toddler; I don’t know a single thing about my real family, and neither did they. I was abandoned, and that’s all we know.

And the older I get, the less I want to know. I keep telling myself that I’m happier like this, not knowing the people who decided to leave me on a doorstep.

Although sometimes, I do wonder. And especially now, knowing that Abby is pregnant with a child—with our child—I can’t help but wonder if things would have been different had I made the effort to find my true parents.

Speaking of Abby…

I turn to look at my phone, which is sitting on the table beside the window. Nothing, as usual. No calls, no texts.

Part of me thinks that I was just grasping at straws earlier when I came to the conclusion that Damon has the power of authority. Hell, maybe Abby really was frightened of me; maybe she only told me that she’s pregnant because she felt obligated, and she has no real intentions of getting back together with me, or even to let me have a part in the child’s life.

It makes me wonder, too, if that kid will turn out like me. If not knowing his or her real father will fuck them up in the same way it fucked me up.

Maybe they’ll turn out to be a conniving smoker like me.

But… no. Abby won’t let that happen. She’ll be a perfect mom, and if she’s really being wooed by that prince, then that kid will live in the lap of luxury. Maybe it’ll even grow up to think that Damon is the real father.

Wouldn’t that be something? Chef Abby, disowned by her father, a self-made celebrity chef, having a baby with a prince?

It’s like something out of a fairytale.

Except this isn’t a fairytale. It’s a goddamn nightmare, at least for me.

It’s…

Suddenly, the sound of my phone ringing breaks through my dark reverie. I snap my head up from where I was absentmindedly fumbling for another cigarette and whip around, picking up my phone before it can even ring for a second time.

“Hello?”