Chapter - Richard

Big Daddy has been silent since Lola joined Dirk and Lou for axe throwing. Thankfully, Bad Axe is busy tonight, or else I'd have been checking on her constantly. Something about her draws my attention. I don't mean to be staring at her when her obsidian eyes find mine. She beams when I point to the bar, and when she indicates she's intending to hop on it, joy fills me.

Big Daddy shows up. Please, for the love of fucking, let her hop on our bar.

Stop, I command.

Make me.His deep, challenging growl raises the hair on the back of my neck. I don't know how to navigate this, but I resolve to invite Vikand to the leadership meeting tomorrow to see if he's got any ideas. I can't keep going with this constant irritation.

Then fucking listen,he snarls again. Am I the only one with my head screwed on right?

I don't answer that, turning to grab Lola's guitar. I set the soft-sided case on a clear section of the bar as she strolls up. She's lit from within with excitement. Her joy is palpable.

"Thanks, Richard," she murmurs, her voice scratchy. She unzips the case and pulls out a stunning turquoise and pale green long-necked electric guitar.

When I let out an appreciative noise, she sets it on top of the soft case and strokes her fingers along the strings, smiling at the instrument. Her eyes flick to mine. "Papá bought this for me when I came of age. There's a warlock who makes them in the haven connected to ours. He imbues his guitars with magic so you don't need an amp. It's amazing."

I lean over and brush my fingers along the guitar's variegated surface. It's beautiful. A hint of magic zings my fingertips, and I hiss, pulling them back.

The fuck is that? Big Daddy growls into my mind. Dislike. Not right for pretty omega to shock us.

She winks at me. "It's magically coded to me though, as I'm sure you just felt."

I ignore Big Daddy and smile at her. "I can't wait to hear it." I'm about to reach across the bar to help her onto it when she scrunches down and leaps, landing gracefully on the surface in a crouched position. Her movement draws attention from the monsters close to us, who give her space as she rises to a stand.

I cross my arms and lean back as she strums the guitar strings softly, listening and adjusting its tuning pegs.

"Any song requests, Richard?"

Gods, the way our name sounds coming from her, Big Daddy whines.

I'm getting pretty good at ignoring him.

"How do you feel about human oldies?" I question, considering a few options.

She beams and slips the strap over her head, settling the guitar against her chest. "I fucking love human oldies."

"Alright. Start with ‘Red House' by Jimi Hendrix, then move into AC/DC's ‘Thunderstruck.' Or…start with ‘Thunderstruck.'" I give her a teasing look. "How hard do you wanna start?"

Harddddd.

Godsdamnit. I keep the smile plastered on my face as Lola grins wickedly at me.

"Let's start hard, shall we?"

I give her a clipped nod, fighting to keep up the easy smile. Big Daddy sits at the forefront of my consciousness, staring at the voluptuous woman on the bar who vibrates with excitement.

She maintains that mischievous smile as she coaxes the first few notes out of the guitar.

"Thunderstruck." Excellent choice.

The guitar's built-in amplifier sends the notes booming into the bar, hitting me in the chest and bouncing off all the glass behind me. The hair on my nape rises as the whole room stops and turns, staring at Lola.

She strums louder, spinning to face the room. Whispers fill the space, then the sounds of chairs screeching as they turn on the plank floor. Lola steps her legs wider and strums harder, but when she starts singing, I lose track of space, of time, of fucking everything. The first notes out of her throat are pure, delicious gravel, like her voice was made for this song.

She gets the entire restaurant clapping and stomping and howling and neighing to the beat until the rustic chandelier in the middle swings with the vibrations. Bad Axe is having fun, the floorboards slapping to the rhythm of Lola's music.

And Big Daddy watches, his focus so intense, my head feels like he's splitting firewood inside it.

When Lola's wolf growls into the final notes of the climax, every one of my hackles rises as Big Daddy shoves as far forward as he'll fit, nearly forcing a shift as I scramble to get control of my body and mind.

And then he whispers one word into our shared consciousness.

Luna.

"You alright, Richard?" Connall's deep voice is full of concern as we make our way through the forest on our rounds the following morning.

I hesitate to tell him about last night, about what Big Daddy said. Connall's my Second; his role is to be my confidant, my guide, my partner in everything. To provide another perspective. But I don't think I can tell him about this.

The Luna bond comes from so far back in shifter lore, very little is known about it anymore. It's been over two thousand years since a shifter had that sort of bond. In fact, it's so rare, there's no one alive blessed by it. The only mentions of it are veiled, shadowy texts, most of which sit in Marco's library in Santa Alaya. It doesn't just…happen.

My wolf is wrong.

Not wrong. You'll see.

"Big Daddy's being an asshole, and I'm exhausted by it all." I figure that's as close as I can get to the truth.

But Connall's as intuitive as ever, which is exactly why I picked him to be my Second when my former Second moved. "Mmm. I thought it might be about Lola."

I stop in place and spin to face him, forcing my hands into my pockets. Big Daddy paces behind my chest bone, snarling and being a general dick.

"What makes you say that?" Big Daddy's tone is clear in my voice, but Connall laughs, his smile as knowing as ever.

"You're different since she arrived. On edge, distracted. I'm guessing she's not the person you remember, and maybe that's got you feeling some kind of way?"

Moons. Maybe he's too intuitive for his own good. Is he suggesting I find Lola attractive? Is it that godsdamn obvious?

Luna,Big Daddy snarls again, snapping at me in our shared space.

She's not our Luna, I bark back. There's no fucking way. There hasn't been a Luna-bonded pair in over two thousand years!

I sigh. "Big Daddy likes her."

Connall's auburn brows drift upward, a surprised expression replacing the earlier thoughtful one. "And how do you feel about that?"

"I wish he'd stop," I admit.

Can't. Won't. Never.

"He likes her a lot," I hedge.

"I see," Connall says softly.

Unfamiliar, anxious butterflies fill my stomach, rocketing around as I stare at my Second, running my fingers through my slicked-back hair. "How do I get him to stop? I can't do this with him… It can't happen."

Connall smiles at me. "Well, I invited Vikand to the leadership meeting like we talked about, so we can discuss Big Daddy's increasing persistence, if you want."

I gulp. "I forgot to tell you that I invited Lola too."

Connall barks out a laugh. "Well, that'll be interesting." He stares into my eyes. "You know, Richard, if Big Daddy feels that way, he's probably onto something."

I know!That's what I want to shout. Every wolf shifter knows our wolves are the most intuitive part of our being. That's why being in lockstep with one's shift is so critically important. And I always have been…

"Did I lose you?" Connall bumps my shoulder with his.

Back off, Second,Big Daddy snaps.

"I'm good," I mutter. "Just need to sort this out."

"Things have a way of working out," he murmurs, green eyes gone soft as he stares into the trees ahead of us.

Suddenly, I wonder if he's not talking about my issue with my wolf so much as his own problems.

I don't get a chance to ask because he jogs off into the trees, continuing our rounds like any other day. Lost in thought, the minutes pass as I follow him. Eventually, he challenges me to a foot race on our way back to Bad Axe. My thoughts are so muddied, I trip and face plant and he kicks my ass, beating me by a solid ten seconds.

Connall opens the door with a smug smile as Big Daddy berates me for not putting him in his place.

"Gettin' slow, old man," he teases when I stalk through the door.

It's on the tip of my tongue to toss him against the wall and bite him, make him cower beneath my alpha nature. It's what most alphas would do. We protect, but we also keep everyone in line. I never really enjoyed that bit of leadership—it's one of the primary reasons I gave up my spot as Marco's Second all those years ago. It's what led me to come to Ever and work with Abemet to start this lovely haven.

I always longed for a more relaxed way of life.

So I push through Big Daddy's insistence and stalk up the dark back hallway past my office and into the bar, where three wolves and a handful of others sit with the princess. Vikand rests his belly on a curved centaur bench, a beer in his hand. Lola stands behind the bar, twirling a glass on the tip of her pointer finger as they roar with laughter and clap.

Perfection, Big Daddy sighs. Look at that as?—

"Hey everyone," I break in, elbowing Big Daddy through our connection.

Even as my comment causes everyone to turn toward Connall and me, my eyes drop to the aforementioned ass, Big Daddy and I both appreciating how round and firm it looks. High and tight and so damn muscular. The bottom swell curves into fit-looking thighs encased in jeans that leave nothing to my currently wild imagination.

Connall brushes past me, knocking me to one side as he clears his throat. It takes herculean effort for me to snap my focus away from Lola and glance at something else before looking at my leadership crew.

Lola wears a concerned expression, the glass now gripped between her fingers. "Richard, you alright? Is it still okay for me to join your meeting? If not, I'll totally go…" Her words drift off as she jerks a thumb toward the front door.

"Of course not," I say. "You're always welcome."

More than welcome. Come sit on our lap, pretty girl.

I level my crew with a big smile as Connall takes his spot on the far side. Someone else clears their throat as I skirt past Lola behind the bar to grab beer glasses. I fill them as Connall starts the meeting, same as always.

Half an hour later, I'm pouring the second round of drinks, and we've been through the majority of our to-do list. Continuing to support Leighton's family is at the top of it. Connall was stoic during that part of the conversation. Leighton was his friend, and I know he feels the loss even more acutely than I do.

Eventually, we come to a topic that does bring me joy. I grin at my leadership crew. "I'm going to be challenged this week."

A rousing cheer goes up as they all clap. Lola claps too, but there's a tense edge to her forced smile. It doesn't take a genius to assume she's thinking of how Marco's Second is planning to challenge him soon.

I reach across the bar and pat her hand when she puts it down. "It's not a big deal in our pack; it's more practice than anything."

She nods, but her near-black eyes come to mine and flash with worry. "You could still be injured. Fights go sideways all the time."

Let her see our strength,Big Daddy presses.

I lean over the bar as my crew snickers. "You haven't seen me fight, omega. I won't lose. Not today and not any day in the foreseeable future."

One of her dark brows curls upward. "Is that so? Seems a little cocky, Richard."

I shake my head as I slide her whiskey sour across the bar. "No. I'm assured and confident. Those are different things."

Plump lips curl into a smile. "Then I look forward to seeing you fight."

Yessssss, Luna is into us, as she should be. Let's show her our di?—

Lola is Marco's daughter—our friend's daughter. She's a fraction of our age. Even if she was our Luna, which she's not, it could never happen. Just stop.

After that, Big Daddy recedes into the farthest edges of my mind, not bothering to respond. But his ire is palpable and painful in our connection. Eventually, Connall does a surreptitious nod toward Vikand, but I find I don't want to discuss my Big Daddy issues in front of everyone right now, so I shake my head. Vikand watches us and seems to read the room, not bringing up how we invited him here but haven't asked him for anything.

I'll take care of this later.

Somehow.