Page 52 of Rook

“Cheers,” she raises her own glass—a clear liquid on the rocks—and taps it against mine before taking a sip. The ice clinks, a small symphony of normalcy in this place of secrets and survival.

“Never thought I’d see the Moonshine without needing to watch my back,” I confess, half to the whiskey, half to her.

“Times change,” Luna replies, eyes scanning the room with the vigilance of a predator, yet there’s a softness to her that wasn’t there before. “But some things stay the same. Like this dive.”

“True.” I take a slow sip of the whiskey, feeling it warm my insides. It’s good stuff, not like the rotgut I used to knock back in the old days.

“Spill then,” she leans in, her elbows on the bar, that alpha presence flaring with a kind of intensity that demands truths. “What’s got Rook Rainier wandering into my lounge after all this time?”

“Work.” The answer comes out terse, because even now, Inari’s name carries weight—a weight of loyalty and blood. “I’m here for Inari.”

“Ah, the queen bee herself.” Luna nods, unsurprised. “Heard a whisper about Angels flocking to town. Didn’t peg you for flying with them though.”

“Angels?” I scoff lightly. “More like vultures at times.”

“Still, rumor has it you’ve climbed the ranks. Not just some grunt anymore.” Her tone is casual, but her gaze is sharp, looking for the truth beneath the surface.

“Rumors love to talk.” My reply is evasive, but Luna knows how to read between the lines.

“Come on, Rook. Give me something to work with here.” Luna’s voice is edged with a playful challenge, her eyebrow arching in anticipation.

“Alright,” I relent, leaning back into the comfort of my bar stool, the leather creaking softly against my weight. “Pacific City’s been good to me. Got my own place now. It’s nice, you know? Having a space that’s just mine.”

Luna lets out a low whistle, impressed or feigning it well enough. “Look at you. Domesticated and all.”

“Hardly.” The laugh that escapes me is throaty, tinged with irony. “But it’s a life. And it’s good.”

She mirrors my posture, leaning back with an air of nonchalance that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. “Just good?” She studies me for a moment, and I can tell she’s digging for more than I’m willing to give up. “Seeing anyone special?”

I snort, the sound sharper than I intend. “That’s one way to put it.” My hand tightens around my glass, the whiskey barely touched now.

“Complicated, huh?” Her smirk deepens as she catches the flicker of emotions across my face. “Sounds juicy. Do tell.”

“Juicy’s one word for it,” I mutter, tracing my finger along the rim of the glass, watching the amber liquid swirl. “There’s someone, but she’s…tied up at the moment. Three alphas deep, if you catch my drift.”

Luna cocks her head to the side, the smirk never leaving her lips as she takes a sip from her own drink. “Now that’s quite the predicament, Rook.”

“Tell me about it,” I say, the half-hearted attempt at humor doing little to mask the sting of truth in my words.

The way Aisling’s name burns on the tip of my tongue, unspoken.

Luna reaches over, her hand briefly touching mine in a rare gesture of solidarity. “I know firsthand that you put most alphas to shame in the bedroom—not that I would step on this girl’s toes by propositioning you, at least without a price,” she chuckles. “But trust that you have nothing to worry about; male alphas are all knots and domination, and you…you’re different. Better.”

I snort again, trying to shake off the compliment as easily as I would a stray thought. “Yeah, right.”

“Rook, trust me,” Luna insists, her gaze locking onto mine, fierce and unwavering. “If there’s anyone who can navigate this kind of mess, it’s you. You’re better than most, in more ways than one.”

“Thanks, Luna,” I find myself saying, the words coming out softer than expected. Humility isn’t my usual suit, but from her, it feels like something akin to absolution. “Means a lot, coming from you.”

“Because I’m a professional?”

I laugh out loud now, shaking my head. “Because you’re not so bad in the bedroom yourself.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere, Rook,” Luna smirks, her eyes glinting with that shrewd spark I’ve come to respect. “But let’s cut to the chase. What’s your game in Oasis this time around?”

I lean back, feeling the weight of the question. “Like I said, I’m workin’ for Inari,” I admit, swirling the remnants of my drink. “Didn’t think I’d be back here, but life’s a bitch like that.”

“Speaking of Inari,” she says, her tone dropping an octave, “I’ve noticed the Bluestockings crawling all over the city lately.”

---