1
Luna
Acold warning crept down my spine, making me shudder as the bus doors slammed shut and left me on the roadside. It was only a ten minute walk to my studio, but I cast a look around the empty warehouse area as I hurried away from the road.
I was being paranoid. But my sister was attacked at the bank where she worked, so I could hardly be blamed for paranoia.
"It's just the wind howling," I murmured to myself, tugging my coat closer around myself. I ducked my head against a sudden gust, crossing the little spit of grass that led to smaller, even quieter roads.
It was even more deserted than usual out here—I didn't know what the warehouses held, but I'd never seen the owner take anything out of them and there was clearly no reason for them to be here this early. I wouldn't have been here at 5:25 either, but I couldn't sleep and there was no point lying awake in bed to thinkof all the awful things that could have happened to my sister if her biker mate hadn't shown up.
There had to be some sort of destiny at work, moulding our fates into happily ever afters. No way didher matejust happen to show up in the rescue party. It was like the start of a modern day fairy tale, and my heart tightened. I wanted that too, wanted someone to share my life with. I loved my family, but sometimes I just wanted to snuggle up to someone who knew even the secret parts of myself that I hid from everyone else.
If I kept locking myself in my studio away from humanity everyday, I'd never meet anyone. But I had a slew of failed relationships to remind me why to keep to myself, even if I fiercely wanted the connection.
The second anyone found out I had an omega sister, they stopped seeing any interest in me. I was beta—ordinary, boring. And usually, by that point in the relationship, I was fuckingfuriousat the way they saw Astrid. She was a person, not a shiny toy. I'd kneed quite a few dicks to ram that point home.
No, it was better to be alo—
All the hairs rose on the back of my neck; my breath caught. I felt the presence for several long excruciating seconds before footsteps scuffed the pavement behind me.
It was probably someone going to one of the warehouses, I reasoned. Or walking their dog in the park.
But there were no houses around here, and there was no tap-tap of claws on the pavement behind me.
I got my phone out of my pocket and increased my pace, scanning for somewhere I could vanish and lose my pursuer. If they were even pursuing me. I was probably overreacting, but I'd rather be safer than sorry, so I sped through my contacts and phoned Astrid.
I couldn't call Dad; he'd go ballistic. I didn’t want him to worry himself into a heart attack.
But guilt struck as the call began to ring. Astrid had barely recovered from her attack; I shouldn't be putting this on her, too.
Too late to back out; the ring ended and her sleepy voice answered.
"Luna? It's … what time is it?" she grumbled. "Half past bloody five."
"I think someone's following me," I rushed out in a whisper, my heart beating faster, harder. I wanted to look behind myself, but that would make it real. And it would tell whoever was following me that I knew they were there.
"What?" Astrid demanded, the sleep leaving her voice. "Where are you?"
"Heading to my studio."
"Shit, okay. Go in anywhere; a bakery, a random business, a fuckinghouse—just get in somewhere."
I began to shake. "Thereisn'tanywhere. I'm still a few minutes away, Astrid. Other than warehouses, there’snothing."
"Okay, okay," she gasped, sounding as freaked out as I felt. "Thenrun, Luna. I know they'll chase, but they're already following you, sorun."
I nodded even if she couldn't see me, my braids brushing the back of my neck and making me jump until I realised it was my own hair, not grasping fingers.
Astrid was right; I needed to run.
I kept the phone to my ear as I kicked from a fast walk to a full-out sprint, my breath scraping up my throat as the person behind me began to run, too.
I was definitely being followed. There was no doubt about it now.
"Oh god," I choked out without meaning to, running as fast as my jelly legs would carry me down the road.
I could see the blocky studio building, once a mill but now converted into airy, open spaces, the glass front doors glimmering with almost-dawn light.