Zara – POV
The Drunken Moon | 1:52 AM | East Atlanta
I came back out onto the floor like nothing happened.
Because that's what survival looks like.
Red Bull in one hand, rag in the other. My breath was even. My spine straight. My face blank.
But my heart was a war drum.
I looked in the mirror and realized I forgot to put in my contacts. That must be why he was staring. I put in my contacts — forcing both eyes to look green again. I hated the way people stared when they saw the truth: one eye green, one gold. It made them whisper. Made them think I was cursed. Broken. A mutt in the worst way.
I used to tell people it was a birth defect. Just bad genetics. Something that made me less.
Not more.
The second I stepped out, I felt it.
Marcus saw me. Saw Khalil walking out before me. And the venom in his expression hit me like acid.
He was perched on his usual barstool, hunched like a vulture, drink half-melted in his hand, jaw twitching. His lips curled into a bitter little smile that had nothing to do with humor.
"Wow," he said, loud and greasy. "Didn't take long, huh?"
I didn't look at him. Just walked toward the register, heart thudding. Tried to pretend I was alone in this place. Tried to remember that he was just another drunk asshole with no real bite.
"Real classy, Z," he called louder. "Draggin' that man into the back like you don't got a job to do. Damn. Didn't know they were hiring head nurses at the bar now."
A few people laughed — not because it was funny, but because toxic men are always the loudest in rooms like this. I scanned the bar for Tanya but she had vanished like a puff of smoke. Of course.
I grabbed a bar rag and started wiping down the counter like I hadn't heard him. Like I didn't feel my cheeks burn. Like I wasn't clenching my jaw hard enough to splinter bone.
"You think you're better than me now?" he kept going. "With your freaky-ass eyes and that 'don't touch me' attitude? Bitch, don't nobody want that cursed blood in their line. What pack would even claim you? You ain't even real."
Something in me twitched. Deep and sharp.
But I stayed still. Stayed quiet.
Khalil had drifted closer. I saw him out of the corner of my eye — posted by the wall, casual like he wasn't three seconds from killing somebody. His presence was calm, but coiled. Still. Like a storm waiting for permission to break.
Marcus turned toward him, fueled by whatever fragile ego still lived inside that soggy head of his.
"Oh, so this the one you went back there for?" he spat. "Bet she gave you a quickie, huh? Mouth feel real nice, didn't it? Ain't let me touch her, but you — Mr. All Black Everything — she let you go all the way."
My stomach flipped.
Khalil didn't flinch. Didn't blink. But the air around him shifted. Thickened. The tension spiked so fast it made the hairs on my arms rise.
But Marcus didn't stop. He leaned forward, eyes gleaming, drunk off power and jealousy.
"I was gonna help you," he said to me. "Take you away from this place. Treat you right. And this the thanks I get? Least you could do is suck me off too, since you're giving out samples now."
Silence.
It wasn't just mine — the whole room went still.
Like the air got sucked out. Like the lights dimmed. Like the building itself knew something terrible was about to happen.
My whole body went cold... then hot. My legs locked. My fingertips tingled. My vision shimmered, then snapped back into sharp, terrifying focus.
And that's when I felt it.
Her.
Not like usual. Not that faint, quiet whisper of a wolf buried too deep to matter.
No.
This was her rising.
From my belly. From my blood. From the part of me I was told would never wake. From the place they tried to lock away when they branded me an omega, a reject, a burden.
She was not quiet now.
My jaw parted. My teeth ached. My nails lengthened just slightly, just enough to sting my palms when I clenched my fists. Something invisible rippled across my skin — a heatwave, an energy, a force — and I knew everyone felt it.
And then...
POP.
The contact in my left eye gave up.
Slipped. Fell. Exposed.
One green. One gold.
The golden one glowed. Actually glowed.
Marcus staggered back half a step. Just one. But I saw it. And I smiled — not kindly.
"You really wanna test me tonight, Marcus?"
My voice was lower than it should've been. Deeper. Layered. Like it wasn't just me speaking.
He opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
I took one step toward him — not a leap, not a lunge — just one, smooth, certain step.
And he flinched.
I felt power move through my limbs like fire — pure, undiluted, and nothing like what I'd ever known before. Not during fights. Not in training. Not even during the attack that nearly got me killed at fifteen.
This wasn't defense.
This was dominance.
The kind that couldn't be faked. The kind that came from blood. From birthright.
From a Luna who'd been forced to believe she was nothing.
And in the corner of my vision, I saw Khalil.
Still. Watching.
But this time, not just observing.
Recognizing.
Because he knew what I didn't — or maybe had always feared:
I was never an omega.
I was something far more dangerous.
The bar was suffocatingly silent. The air hung heavy with tension, every patron frozen in place, eyes darting between Marcus and me.
Khalil stepped forward, his movements deliberate yet hesitant. His eyes searched mine, concern etched across his face. He reached out, fingers brushing against my arm.
In an instant, my body reacted. I twisted his arm behind his back, slamming him against the wall. A growl escaped my lips, deeper and more primal than I ever thought possible.
"Don't touch me," I snarled, my voice layered with an otherworldly resonance. "You've done enough. Leave."
Khalil's eyes widened, not in fear, but in recognition. He nodded slowly, understanding the turmoil within me. Without a word, he turned and walked out the door, disappearing into the night.
The surge of power that had overtaken me began to wane. My limbs trembled as the adrenaline faded, leaving behind a hollow ache. I felt my wolf retreat, her presence still lingering but subdued, as if nursing wounds of her own.
The silence was shattered by the entrance of my boss, his expression a mix of confusion and irritation. "What's going on here?" he demanded, surveying the scene.
Marcus seized the opportunity, stepping forward with feigned concern. "Zara's been causing a scene, boss. She was getting cozy with customers in the back, neglecting her duties. Just check the cameras pointing towards the back room if you don't believe me."
I opened my mouth to protest, but the weight of the room pressed down on me. I started to feel lightheaded and weak like I've been drained of my very existence. I tried to make eye contact with the other customers, hoping somebody would vouch for me, but The other patrons averted their eyes, their silence a deafening indictment. I even turned to see if Khalil was still here and my heart ache to see no signs of them the electrifying feeling gone, leaving only emptiness.
My boss turned to me, his gaze cold. "Is this true? Are you fraternizing with customers on the clock?"
"No," I replied firmly, my voice steady despite the turmoil within. "I've been doing my job, despite the lack of support and the constant harassment."
He scoffed, a cruel smile playing on his lips. "You're lucky I even hired an omega like you. The only reason you're here is to make the human customers feel comfortable. But your attitude has been grating. Maybe you'd be better suited elsewhere."
My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms. "I won't stand here and be disrespected," I said, voice rising. "I've worked hard, endured more than you know, and I deserve better."
He laughed, the sound devoid of humor. "Where else would you go? You have no credentials, no support. You're nothing without this job."
The room remained silent, the other patrons unwilling to intervene. I felt the familiar stir of my wolf, her anger simmering beneath the surface. But I held her back, refusing to give them the satisfaction of seeing me lose control.
With a deep breath, I turned on my heel and walked toward the door, leaving behind the oppressive atmosphere of The Drunken Moon. But just as I reached for the handle, my boss grabbed my arm, his grip firm and unyielding.
"We're not done here," he said, his voice low and threatening. "You don't get to walk out after causing a scene."
I yanked my arm free, the contact sending a jolt through my already exhausted body. "Let me go," I demanded, my voice barely above a whisper.
He stepped closer, the smell of alcohol heavy on his breath. "You think you're better than this place? Better than me? You're just a pretty face with a bad attitude."
Marcus chuckled from behind him, clearly enjoying the show. "Maybe she needs a reminder of her place."
My vision blurred, the room spinning as my strength waned. I felt my knees buckle, but I refused to fall. Not here. Not now.
"I'm done," I said, each word a struggle. "I'm leaving."
But as I reached for the door again, my boss blocked my path, his eyes gleaming with malice. "Not until I say so."
The room closed in around me, the walls pressing in as the weight of exhaustion and humiliation threatened to crush me. I had to get out. I had to escape.
They could smell my weakness and they wanted to take advantage of it.
"Marcus, you said she was fucking around on the job" my boss asked.
Marcus smiled. "yep, with a rando at that. I have never even seen that guy here before."
My boss turned back to look at me. "Am I not paying you enough that you need to sleep around? If you were going to do that you should've just told me I have friends in high places that own brothels. I can put in a good word for you."
"Matter of fact, since you're so eager to leave, you might as well test out the goods. Actually Marcus, do you want to take a test drive since you're such a loyal customer?"
"Absolutely" Marcus smiled a disgusting smile.
My boss grabs onto my arm as I try to pull away and starts bringing me to the back, pushing me down on the couch, trying to rip off my clothes. I saw a couple of other drunk customers come in to watch and possibly join. Marcus looks at me with a cold smile. He whispers in my ear "you should've just left with me now no one is going to save you. I can't wait to hear every cry and every moan you make."
He tries to kick my leg open as I resist, but the tiredness makes my body betray me. I glanced over to see my boss, unbuckling his pants and moving near me. I started to struggle and one of the drunk customers started to hold my arms as I panicked.
I croaked out a scream and someone covered my mouth and slapped me before I could let the words come out. Tears of anger and frustration poured down my face, the weight of the men pressing on me, trying to take away the one meaningful thing I have.
My Virginity.
I felt this fear only once before when I was 15 and the rogues attacked me. They cornered me in the neck of the woods away from everybody. The three of them toyed with me and tried to take advantage of me. It was almost like they wanted to eat me. And just when I was about to give up hope I saw a shadowy figure amongst the trees. I heard a growl, and one of the rogues pushed me into a tree, they were attacked and killed. I fainted not knowing who saved me.
I snapped out of it, realizing the severity of my situation. I bite the hand covering my mouth. With my mind in a panic I said the only words I can think of.
"Get. Off. Of. Me."
It was like the world died and left just these words. They all backed away slowly, some fighting against it, unsure how or why they're doing it.
My boss is confused. Marcus was frustrated fighting to get back to me. I sat up and fixed my clothes quickly, staring at them the entire time.
"We should kill them," my wolf growled, her voice a low, guttural whisper that echoed within the confines of my mind.