original

The Seeds of Luna's Fate

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Chapter 1: Chapter One: Seeds of Origin

Chapter One: Seeds of Origins

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POV: *Lavender*

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I stood in the doorway of the crowded bar and reminded myself why I was there. I needed to be someone else for a while. I needed to not be Lavender Ash, the outsider, the screwup.

I scanned the establishment and its sea of faceless people. I wasn’t sure what I expected a shifter bar to look like, but normal human faces weren’t quite it.

Footsteps sounded off behind me, reminding me I was in the way. I thought maybe for the night, if I was going to be someone else, I would at the very least pretend I had been in a bar before.

I moved to let the man pass. He gave me a side-glance when he walked by me. Maybe it was my way of figuring out where I fit, but he seemed different from the rest of the people there.

He walked with this confidence that at first was incredibly intimidating. If the older bartender hadn’t smiled at him as he entered, I might have thought he was out of place too. There seemed to be a bit of familiarity in the welcoming grin that the older gentleman gave.

Trying not to be too obvious, I hesitantly followed the patron to the bar. I chose a seat a few people down. That voice in my head that told me I was lacking chirped. It told me maybe I was wrong, and the bartender smiled at everyone.

“You, my dear, seem to be out of place,” the same bartender said, pulling me out of my head and I gave him a shy smile.

“Maybe a little,” I said as quietly as I could above the music.

I reminded myself again why I had walked in here. I wanted a change of pace. I looked at the bottles behind the bar and the chalkboard menu that hung above the shelves.

“Can I get a cranberry vodka?” I ordered as if I had any idea what it would taste like. My only experience with alcohol had been the times I had snuck it from the liquor cabinet at home.

I watched the man walk to the fridge and pull out a beer for the man who came in after me and the juice for my order.

I tried not to stare as I realized the other patron had these gorgeous honey-colored eyes that looked almost yellow under the neon signs hung on the walls. When he caught me staring he winked before putting the bottle to his lips. It was a sure sign he knew how good he looked.

If I had learned anything from the TV I had binged, that was the man I should stay away from. That voice in my mind sounded off again, “Like you would have a chance!”

Reverting to my normal behavior, I dropped my eyes to the countertop before looking anywhere but at him. The problem was that I wanted to watch him. Something about him commanded all of my attention and fighting it seemed like a losing battle.

Just when I had finished my drink and figured it was time to leave, the bartender approached with another cranberry drink.

“This is from that man right there.” the bartender pointed to the side of the bar I was trying to avoid. For a moment my heart sped up, and I looked toward the stranger but the man to his left was the one who raised his glass and winked.

Disappointed, I politely declined and stood to leave. The man who I had just turned down stood as well. I didn’t like the look of determination on his face.

As I had feared he started to follow me out. I tried not to glance behind me as I walked, but the sound of another bar stool scooted across the laminate floor. The stranger I struggled not to watch all night was leaving too.

I focused on my breathing as my anxiety clawed at my throat. The idea of being anyone else slowly lost its appeal.

“Hey, Dollface, slow down!” the wrong stranger called out just as I got outside the door.

I should have been paying more attention to how close he was getting. No sooner than he called after me his hand looped around my arm startling me.

“I get not accepting the drink, but give a man a chance to get to know you,” he chastised, and I tried to smile politely to avoid the confrontation I knew we were going to have, anyway.

“I believe the refusal of your drink and the fact she left without talking to anyone should have clued you in. She’s not interested.” a deep voice answered from behind the persistent man.

The guy trying to get to know me stiffened.

“Maybe I need to hear it from her sweet lips,” Mr. Annoying snapped, and I squared my shoulders.

“If a woman turns down free alcohol and was nice enough to leave so you didn’t have to look at your failed conquest all night, I would leave it be. Just to make sure you hear me loud and clear, he is right. I am not interested,” I said a little surprised at my bravery.

Mission Be Someone Else: accomplished.

The man finally took the hint before muttering insults and walking away, leaving me and my savior standing in the parking lot.

I hadn’t noticed how his eyes had been the color of deep emerald green before. It wasn’t fair how striking he was when he was closer. He looked to the ground and put his hands in his pockets.

“And that is my cue to head home.” He chuckled nervously breaking the awkward silence.

“Thank you for that. He was my sign I needed to go home.” I matched, and he grinned ever so slightly and crookedly.

“You shouldn’t feel obligated to thank me because I was being a decent person.” The way he said it gave me the impression he was quite ready to leave yet. If I was being honest, I wasn’t sure I was ready to leave either.

“In this world that is rare,” I say as I extended my hand to introduce myself. I wanted to know his name. I wished I could know him.

The problem with all of that was the fact that the moment I got home, I was back to being me. I didn’t think he would like that version very much. I barely liked myself for it.

He took my hand but before I could say anything he pulled me into him. My hand rested on his chest to stabilize myself. I should have pushed away. I should have said something to slow him down. I didn’t want to.

Gently and hesitantly, as if giving me time to stop him, he tilted my chin up to look at his face. His thumb absent-mindedly grazed my bottom lip. That was the final time I reminded myself why I had come here.

Without thinking, I reached up on my tiptoes and kissed him. He didn’t hesitate to return it. The gentle kiss turned into one fueled with hunger. He had just threaded his fingers in my hair at the base of my neck when my phone rang.

I pulled away from him so fast he leaned toward me, but I knew that ringtone. I knew who was calling and the time I had to be someone else was over.

“I’m sorry I have to go,” I said as I stepped away from him, instantly missing his body heat pressed against me.

He furrowed his brow and reached for me and doubled back to kiss his cheek.

“Thank you,” I whispered before I ran off wishing he would chase me down. He didn’t feel like someone I had just met. He felt like someone I had been waiting for and I hated how certain he felt.

I hated it because I knew he was everything I wouldn’t find in my normal world. He was sweet and heroic and looked at me like I mattered. So, I knew nothing he did or said was genuine. At least that was what I had learned in my experience.

I walked away knowing what I was going to walk into. My guardian was going to lose her mind. It didn’t matter that I was a thirty-one-year-old woman. I lived in her home by her rules. Rules that I broke just by leaving the room seemed like a glorified prison cell.

By the time I got home, all the lights were out. I hadn’t answered the call, but I knew Demi would be awake and seething. I just wasn’t expecting the fallout that came when I walked through the door.

The sound of glass shattering near my head drowned the sound of the door shutting out. I froze, completely reverting to the person I had always been. Remembering my place I looked at the floor and not directly at Demi, my guardian.

“The council called a meeting today to discuss your recent rebellious behavior. They summoned you.” Her words fell from her lips as if soaked in venom.

“I’m sorry,” I said softly as she stalked forward.

“This was the last straw. We will not have this behavior.” As she spoke these words, it felt as if they went right into my gut and sank.

“Yes, ma’am,” I said like a practice cadence.

“Clean up this mess. We will discuss your punishment in the morning. I bought fresh fruit for the occasion.” Those were the words that told me just how badly I messed up.

She always saved that punishment for the worst offenses. Demi didn’t believe in regular punishments. When I messed up she brought out the pomegranate seeds.

I know how that sounds. How terrifying could a fruit really be? It wasn’t the fruit itself. It was the reaction I had to them.

I didn’t swell up or break out into hives. It was much more severe than that. It was a version of myself I wished I could keep hidden. I think that was why she chose it. Why cause physical pain when she could inflict so much more than that?

“I’ll do better,” I replied as she walked away.

She stopped and looked at me from over her shoulder. “It’s too late for that,” she added before she left the room.

That heaviness in my stomach only grew more uncomfortable. What did she mean by that?

***

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