“Are you happy, mate?” Rowan asks.
“Couldn’t be happier,” I reply, snuggling back into his chest.
The End
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LUNA HUNTED
Helen Walton
Copyright © 2022
Chapter One
Kara
Dad’s fingers clasped the amber-filled glass sitting on the kitchen table in front of him. I could count on one hand the number of times he’d drunk straight whisky. Each time was a death in our family. First was my mom’s unfortunate death when I was twelve. The second was the horrific deaths of my entire family in a tragic avalanche over our village. It was sheer luck Dad and I had traveled to the main town Iqaluit on Baffin Island that day to buy Christmas presents.
Those presents were long forgotten when we’d arrived home to a thick blanket of snow covering half of the mountainside of our village. Wolf shifters survived a lot, but we couldn’t hold our breaths for hours on end, nor did our pelts keep us warm indefinitely when buried under an avalanche of snow.
At least half our village survived, even if no one in my family did. They’d all rallied around Dad to help raise me through my troubled teenage years, and now, at twenty-three, I’d come out the other side as a well-adjusted woman. That was a lie. But we all hid our flaws. Some were better at it than others.
Dad’s flaw was gambling. A vice he’d fallen into after everyone died. I didn’t blame him for seeking an outlet for thegrief. Nor did I blame him for his gambling losses because he lost more times than he won. We’d lived dollar to dollar for many years. I’d taken a part-time job as soon as possible, so we didn’t go without food or electricity. I loved Dad, flaws and all. He was my only family.
Bile rose in my throat that he was about to tell me bad news—about him. But what might it be? Wolf shifters didn’t get sick. Our special genetics always kept us strong and healthy. We lived remarkably long lives. Longer than humans. Death only befell us from tragic accidents, fights, or straight-out murder.
“Kara,” he choked out. He raised the glass to his lips and took a sip.
“What is it?” I drew out a chair and slumped onto the hard timber.
“I screwed up gambling.”
A relieved sigh escaped me. At least I still had my dad. He might have his faults, but he was all I had left. “Whatever it is, we’ll fix it.”
He shook his head. “Not this time, sweetheart.”
I reached across the table and placed my hand over his, holding the glass. He’d almost finished the amber liquid. “Why not?”
“I lost everything last night.”
I jerked back. “You lost the house?”
I couldn’t lose the house that reminded me of Mom. The house we’d rebuilt after the avalanche to the exact way Mom had decorated it. A shrine to her. To all we’d lost. Dad had loved her so much. Their happiness was one thing I looked back on with fond memories.
“Worse.” Tears welled in his aquamarine eyes. “I lost you.”
“I’m right here, Dad. How could you have lost me?”
He snatched my other hand across the table. “I didn’twant to do it. He tricked me.”
“Who tricked you?” I asked as a sense of dread and foreboding skittered down my spine.
“Garth.”
My jaw clenched as I ground my teeth. “How?”
“I should have had the winning hand.” He hung his head, unable to look me in the eye. “I lost you.”