The Ruined Luna

Thirteen

"You bite it any harder and its gonna bleed." Tripp murmured softly as he guided me through the packhouse.

I released my lower lip, which I'd been chewing on since we walked inside.

Every single person was staring at me. Whole families as they lounged in one or another of the multiple living rooms.

There was no outright hostility though, and I wondered what they'd been told about me. About why I lived in a separate building rather than amongst them even if I was a temporary guest. It obviously wasn't the truth. No one was snatching the children up, afraid I'd eat them or whatever bullshit Alpha Collin had convinced himself I'd do if allowed anywhere near them.

More than half of them wore identical looks of pity as they took in the roped scars across my skin. I cursed the thought I'd had when getting dressed this morning. A t-shirt and pair of jean shorts didn't cover the damage that still stood out in stark relief against my pale flesh. Once they glimpsed my eyepatch though, you could see them all physically cringe away. It was probably unconsciously done, but that shit still hurt.

I'm vain enough to admit that losing my sight, and the disfigurement around the eye, was something I still struggled to accept. It was hard to see pieces of my old self surrounded by the violence that had permanently painted my skin. I'd adapted to the change physically, my wolf sense able to make up the difference where I lost some depth perception and field of vision. But I didn't feel pretty anymore. Not that I'd been some great beauty when I'd been human, but I'd been cute. Pretty, when I'd made the effort. Now though, the urge to cover my face with the curtain of my hair and hide it all from view rose high and crashed hard beneath the weight of their stares. It was only sheer will that kept my hand at my side and swinging lightly as Tripp led me through the living rooms and to the mess hall.

'Do not show even a flicker of weakness. They'll see it, and use it.'

My fingers twitched despite my resolve and shame burst to life like a struck match in my chest.

Still, whether it was my appearance, guard, or the unease of a stranger in their midst, the Hard Luck pack thankfully kept their seats and distance. Content for the time being to watch and wait.

Long tables sat in neat rows down the length of the massive room, and large wooden chandeliers hung on heavy wooden cross beams that cast just the right amount of light. On either side of the room were additional tables arranged horizontally, with steaming steel trays still offering dinner though the majority of the pack appeared to have already finished and left.

About twenty wolves lingered here, sporadically occupying tables. They looked up as we entered. I lifted my chin, my wolf's hackles raising as we were judged and gaged them in return. Then they returned to their food after a moment and the low hum of conversations resumed.

"Easy now." Tripp reminded me, as if he could sense my wolf bristling beneath my skin.

"We're fine." Speaking for my wolf as much as myself.

"Just checking."

"I made it!" Winnie came in at a run, skidding to a halt but still managing to run smack into her brother who caught her in his arms so she wouldn't face plant, then righted her. Her hair was still wet, dampening the shoulders of her purple T-shirt, while her long legs were displayed bellow a pair of black sport shorts that peeked beneath the shirt's hem. Out of her overalls, it was obvious she was one of those blessed with natural curves that most of us could only dream about.

"You really know how to make an entrance." Her brother quipped.

Winnie's mouth split into a wide grin, eyes sparkling with mischief. "As is tradition. Oh, my gosh. That looks sooo yummy. Come on, let's grab some food. Then I have like, a million questions I want to ask you!"