Taking a bite out of my muffin, Zoe looked like crap as she rested her head on the table. I chuckle at her and shake my head. I came here to check on her and bring her some breakfast. Marcus had gone to collect Casey so Macey could take Zoe’s shift today, and I now understood why she couldn’t work.
“Stop laughing,” she groans before getting up and walking to the fridge with her melted bag of frozen peas.
“Ew, throw them,” I tell her, taking another bite from my muffin. She snatches another bag of frozen vegetables, stuffs them down the front of her pyjama shorts, and sighs. I snort as she awkwardly walks back to her chair and sits on it.
“My vag*na feels chaffed. Is that possible?” Zoe gr0ans, resting her head on the tabletop.
“He broke it,” she whines, and I laugh at her.
“So unfair. Marcus has a jolly good time while here I am stuffing frozen vegetables down my p*nts because I feel like I have carpet burn where I shouldn’t have carpet burn,” she growls.
“I am eating,” I tell her, shaking my muffin at her, not wanting that image in my head.
“Sorry, but let me whine; I have a literal fire crotch situation going on here,”
“Again, I am eating. You are the little sister that over shares with the info; I don’t need to know what is going on with your lady bits,” I tell her when my phone bings, telling me I had received an email.
“Could be worse-” Zoe rambles, and her words fall on deaf ears as I pull my phone out and see the email from the city council.
One step forward and two steps back, always the same sh*t on repeat. A growl slips out of me, startling Zoe as I read over the rejection letter. When I see the signing alphas, I wrap my muffin back up in its wrapper, and Zoe looks at me.
“What’s wrong?” she asks, instantly alert.
“It was rejected,”
“My petition for the rogues,” I tell her, getting up from my seat.
“What are you doing?” she asks as I dump the rest of my coffee in the sink. Only when I do the mug burst in my hand. I blink at my bleeding hand. “Sh*t!” I curse under my breath, picking up the broken pieces of glass and dumping them in the bin before snatching some hand towels out from under the sink. I rinse my hand, pulling a shard of thick glass from my palm and wrapping it. Zoe shrieks seeing blood dripping from my hand, yet I felt nothing. I was pissed off that my father would sabotage me like this. I quickly wrap some paper handtowel around my hand before snatching my handbag off the table.
“Everly?” Zoe says, reaching for my hand.
“I’m going to try to fix it,” I tell her.
“Wait, you need to calm down. Just wait, I will come with you,” she says, hopping up and wincing. I shake my head.
“Marcus will be here soon with Casey. And you have to freeze your rug burn,” I tell her, not realizing what I said as I stormed out. I rush down the steps and around the side of the building before climbing into my truck.
Reversing out of my parking spot, I navigate through the packed car park before jumping into the traffic and heading for the council chambers.
Finding a parking spot took me twenty minutes when I arrived, only adding to my pent-up anger. Snatching my bag off the front passenger seat, I stormed into the brick building and nearly ripped my arm off as I yanked the door open and shoved my way through the security checkpoint. Security rushed toward me, and I wasn’t sure if it was the angered look on my face or the fact my hand was dripping blood everywhere.
However, one growl from me made them stop in their tracks as my aura flew out and battered them. They stood struck, stunned, and blinking at me. It startled me momentarily before I shrugged. Thank you, mate bond! I thought as I moved toward the front desk to the clerk behind it who was on the phone. She hangs up and gives me a warm smile that slips off her face, and I try to relax my facial features, only realizing I was glaring at the poor woman when she spoke.
“Luna,” she stutters, and I try to remember this woman isn’t the cause of my anger. I glance at her name tag.
“Hi, Amanda, I need to speak to someone about my rejected petition,” I tell her, leaning over the counter and showing the case number on my email. She quickly taps away at her keyboard.
“It says you needed four Alphas to sign off on it before it could be heard,”
“I have four Alpha’s signatures,” I tell her, showing her mine and Valen’s, along with the Alpha and Luna from the southeast borders. Amanda shakes her head.
“Yours and the Alpha Valens don’t count since you are the one filing the petition,” she tells me.
“Since when?” I snap at her before sucking in a deep breath. Not Amanda’s fault, I remind myself.
“I’m sorry. Is there someone I can speak to about it?” I ask again, trying to keep my anger in check.
“I can see if my supervisor is in?” she offers, and I nod, my fingers drumming impatiently on the desk.
She makes a call and turns away from me. I watch her before glancing at the clock behind her on the wall. I needed to get back to sign off on delivery in an hour. “Sir? I have the Blood Luna here. She wants to speak with you.” I blink at what she called me. Hearing them call Valen that was one thing but me?
“I understand, sir. I will let her know,” she says before hanging up the phone. She turns in her seat and smiles apologetically at me.
“He is in a meeting and said you would have to book an appointment,” she says, shrinking in her seat. I purse my lips. This was some bt! I could guarantee they wouldn’t pull this sh*t with my mate.
“Your supervisor’s name, please?” I ask.
“Scott Peters Maam,” I cl!ck my tongue. Of course, he won’t see me. He was a member of my father’s pack.
“Thank you,” I tell her, turning on my heel to leave and heading for the doors. The security staff quickly opens the little gate I barged through on my way in, and I see another waiting there with a bandage in his hand. Sniffing the air, I could tell he was one of Alpha Nixon’s pack members. He nods to me when I take it from him.
“Thank you,” I murmur, pushing the door open with my shoulder. Getting back to my car, I stare out the windscreen, trying to think. My father rejected the petition, and my mother rejected it. That stung more than it should for some reason, but seeing my father’s signature on the email really got to me.
Even after all these years, he couldn’t do one decent thing, not even for his disgraced daughter. This was bigger than me, it wasn’t for me, and still, he rejected it. It was like he was shunning me all over again. When would I be enough? I blink the tears away. And Valarie’s words came to my ears. “They don’t deserve your tears!”‘ Knowing she was right, I sniffled and wiped them away. I didn’t need them; I proved that. But that didn’t mean I didn’t want them. Miss what I once had.
I wanted Valarian to know where I came from, to know the parents who raised me before they shunned me. Starting my car, I head back to the Hotel. Halfway home, my anger was still festering beneath the surface, my emotions trying to strangle me; my workers didn’t deserve my anger, I thought to myself.
Ripping the car off to the side of the road, I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, debating what my next move should be.
“F**k it!” I growl, glancing in the side mirrors. When no cars are coming, I rip a u-turn heading in the opposite direction to the Hotel. I floor my beast, the engine growling just like me as I head back to the one place I have not been to in years. I head to the place I once called home and to the very man who shunned me.
He didn’t deserve my tears, but he f*cking deserved my anger, which is what he would be met with. Coming to the border patrols, they wave me down to pull over, but I flip them off while laughing my head off as my truck smashes through their boom gate, ripping it off before heading to the packhouse. If my father wasn’t already alerted to the border breach, he sure as h*l would hear me coming with the way the engine roared as I put my foot down, heading for the center of his pack land. What should have been my pack lands!