Page 17 of Vicious Luna

Her lips twist in a scowl, hands fisting the towel like she wants to rip it to shreds. “If your endgame is to kill me, then just get it over with,” she snaps, glaring daggers at me as I re-lock the cell and pocket the key.

“Giving up so soon?” I remark, arching a brow as I start backing away from the bars. “And here I thought you had more fire in you than that.”

“You don’t know a damn thing about me,” she snarls.

“I know you probably thought your precious Alpha would come for you by now.” I drop into the folding chair as soon as I feel the brush of the metal seat against the backs of my calves, pulling my beer bottle out from beneath my arm. “What would he think if he knew you were throwing yourself at me earlier?”

“I wasnot,” she huffs, clearly offended by my recollection even though that’s exactly what happened.

I chuckle softly to myself. “So, you’re a liar, then.Noted.”

She balls up the towel in her hands, chucking it at the bars. “Fuck you!”

“I thought we already established I have no interest in fucking you?” I fire back, smirking.

She glares at me for a long moment. “Now who’s the liar?”

Fair point.If we’d met in any other situation and I didn’t know what she was, I definitely would’ve tried to get in her pants. She’s hot as fuck and twice as spicy; I love a girl who can hold her own in a verbal sparring match. This Luna is a rare find in more ways than one.

As it is, though, I just shake my head, twisting the cap off my beer and tossing it on the floor. It clinks against the concrete as it rolls away from sight while I raise the bottle to my lips and take a swig.

“Got one of those for me?” she boldly asks as I lower my beer, wiping my mouth off on a forearm.

“What do you think this is, a luxury resort?” I scoff.

“With this kind of service?” Luna tilts her head, scrunching up her nose. “Nah, zero out of ten, do not recommend.”

I roll my eyes, taking another pull from my beer bottle.

“Drinking alone is just sad,” she comments, curling her hands in her lap and inspecting her fingernails absently. They were painted hot pink when she arrived, but most of the polish has chipped off since. “Then again, you probably don’thave friends to drink with, considering how warm and fuzzy your personality is.”

“Shut up,” I mutter.

Her gaze darts up to meet mine again, plush lips curving in a smirk and her big brown doe-eyes sparkling with devious intent. “Ooh, I hit the nail on the head, didn’t I?” she remarks, her tone dripping with snark. “Poor lonely hunter doesn’t have any friends. Or are they just all dead now? I suppose wedidtake out a lot of your people last full moon…”

I tighten my fist around my beer bottle, jolting to my feet.

How fucking dare she bring up Ben?

“Ooh, whatcha gonna do, big man?” she taunts, her self-satisfied smirk deepening. “You wanna hit me?”

I grind my molars, glaring at her icily through the bars.

I know exactly what she’s trying to do. I know she’s aiming to provoke me so I’ll act on impulse, charging in there half-cocked and sloppy drunk, thereby giving her an opportunity to escape. And even though I’m well aware of her intentions, here I am, falling for her tricks. Because she’s just inadvertently stumbled upon the one thing that can set me off in an instant.

Drawing a measured breath, I release it on a slow exhale, shoving my rage back into the cage in my mind and carefully locking it away as I regain my composure. Then I lift my beer bottle to my mouth and take another swig, swallowing it down and licking the residue from my lips.

“Typically, I don’t believe in violence against women,” I say coolly, meeting her stare once again. “But you’re not a woman, are you, beastie?”

She rolls her eyes, flipping her long blonde hair over a shoulder. “I think you’re well aware of what I’ve got between my legs. You stared long enough earlier.”

I make a scoffing sound in my throat. “I was supervising, nothing more.”

“Yeah right,” she snickers, lifting her chin haughtily. “Women are by far the superior gender. Flash a tit and men lose all sense.”

I take a threatening step toward her, lowering my voice an octave. “You talk a big game for someone behind bars.”

“This is all just temporary,” she replies confidently. “Your days are numbered, Warden.”

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