Page 22 of Cold Moon

Sure, I was nineteen, and not allowed to drink because of some draconian law that let me—or healthier people than me—join the army, but not drink. But I wanted something other than water and carrot sticks in my life.

Maybe I was being a big baby and feeling sorry for myself, but sometimes it was just... too much. Everyone was eating fries and drinking cider from the grove, and I could never be that person. Be one of them.

“Could, um, could I get some water too, ma’am?” a soft voice asked, and it turned everything around, my pissy mood evaporating in an instant.

Dante.

I spun to face him, beaming, my hands tingling with the need to reach out to him, touch him, reassure myself he was there. His scent was even stronger standing there in the bar, all warm and cozy.

He ducked his head and smiled at me. “Skye.”

“Hi,” I answered, and for the life of me, couldn’t figure out what the heck else to say. Nice weather? How are you?

Why did everything sound inane?

“Sure,” Talin agreed. “Want a menu?”

He put a hand to his stomach and shook his head emphatically. “No thank you, ma’am. The Hills made sure I ate... a lot.”

She laughed at that, passing him a bottle of water. “You look like you could use a little feeding up, and they’re good at that.”

He flushed, but smiled at her, that sweet, nervous smile he was always giving Linden when offered the mildest kindness. I was probably imagining it, but I thought the smile he gave me was different. It was just mine.

That was when Matt Drury pushed past us, knocking his shoulder into Dante so hard that he smacked into me, knocking both of us into the counter. I tried my best to hide a wince as the bar dug into my ribs. Probably poorly, but heck, I’m not an actor or anything.

I glanced up to see if Dante had noticed, waiting for the outpouring of concern for my frail self, but instead, his eyes were screwed shut, shoulders hunched, like he was trying to make his big alpha frame smaller.

“Look where you’re going,” Matt said, loud and obnoxious. “S’pose I shouldn’t be surprised a Reid is pushing our omegas around though.”

The room went quiet. Not like, a lull in the conversation, but that kind of “you could hear a pin drop” silence people usually only talk about.

Dante didn’t move. Didn’t open his eyes, didn’t... was he holding his breath? Panic. He was panicking. Of course he was. He was in a strange pack’s territory, being called out for doing something wrong when he hadn’t.

I slid down off my stool and rounded the bar, glaring at Matt. “He’s not the one who pushed anyone,” I said, jamming the bottom of my water bottle into his chest. “You pushed him into me. And I’m gonna have a bruise, so thanks, jerk.”

I didn’t often use my perceived weaknesses, but damn it all, he was bullying Dante like we were in a high school movie. And Dante was... special. And maybe a little fragile.

Behind Matt, Linden cleared his throat. Matt spun to look at the alpha, eyes round. “Apologize like an adult or sit down, your choice. And either way, leave Skye and Dante alone.”

Matt scowled and flounced off to the corner table where his buddies were sitting. Jerk. I glared at him. Then the rest of them, for good measure. Then I turned back to Dante. “Come on, let’s go sit down.”

He was staring at me like I was the elephant in the room, then he glanced at the door, maybe planning a quick escape. Hard to blame him.

In a case of the best timing ever, Brook and Aspen walked in right then. Brook’s eyes darted around, taking in the mood, then Dante, arms still wrapped around himself, and I could see him piecing it together. He gave a bright smile and headed over to the bar, dragging Aspen along. When he got to us, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, letting go of Aspen. “Why don’t you and Dante get us a table, sweetheart? We’ll grab drinks.”

Aspen nodded, putting a firm hand on Dante’s shoulder. For a fraction of a second, Dante jerked, as though afraid Aspen were going to kill him. Then he looked up at the alpha who freaking towered over everyone, into those kind, honest eyes, and somehow, his shoulders relaxed just a little. Aspen pulled him in, an arm wrapped around his shoulders, squeezing lightly, and headed for the only remaining empty table.

I took a real breath for the first time since Matt had pulled his asshole routine, and turned back to the bar, looking at Talin. “We want onion rings,” I informed her. “All of us.” Then I glanced around and leaned in, already rethinking the whole taking-what-I-wanted thing. “What brand are they?”

“We make them in house,” she answered immediately. “Hill farm ingredients.”

Did that mean... could I have this? Maybe just once, I could try it and see. I glanced over at Linden, and he smiled at me, giving an encouraging nod.

“I’m having new menus printed,” she continued after a moment. “We’re changing some things up, after Linden came to talk to me. Give me a week for the rest of the menu. But the onion rings? You’ve got those now. And on the house. Did you want some of Linden’s cider too?”

“Sure,” I agreed. Or I thought I did. Mostly, I stared off into space, daydreaming of being able to order anything off the menu, as Brook finished ordering for himself, Aspen, and Dante, and then led me over to where the others sat.

I didn’t know why being able to order the food made me feel like more of an adult, a proper member of the pack, but when Linden called the meeting to the-next-best-thing-to-order a few minutes later, something was different. This wasn’t just a meeting about my future that I’d been allowed into. It wasn’t a tiny scrap of freedom I’d hoarded away for myself, hoping no one would notice and rip it out of my grasp. This was a meeting about my future that I had a say in.

---