Page 70 of Scarred Savages
“Scarred Luna from InstaShifter?” she probes deeper.
I blink. “Uh. Yeah, that’s me.”
Her face lights up. “You’re famous here! Everyone was thrilled when you rejected that snobby, hateful asshole.”
She throws her arms around me, then hurries off to join a group of teens.
Ethan raises an eyebrow. “What was that about?”
I roll my eyes. “Oh, come on. Like Hudson didn’t tell you.”
He shakes his head, his expression blank.
“Conrad Clawford’s my scent match. Or was. He rejected me. I rejected him right back.” I cross my arms. “Dodged a bullet. No way I’d be with a male like that. Scent match or not.”
Ethan’s eyes narrow, thoughtful. But before I can ask what he’s thinking, a distant hum catches my attention.
Axel walks back to us and grabs my hand, a familiar manic grin spreading across his face. “C’mon. I wanna show you something.”
We take off past the barn, up a grassy hill that leaves me slightly breathless. Beyond it, a dirt racetrack stretches out in a wide, oval shape. And there, looking unfairly hot in a tight black t-shirt, is Damien.
He straddles a dirt bike, its engine growling beneath him. A little boy sits in front of him on the seat, sandy curls bouncing as they ride slow laps. The kid is laughing, shrieking with delight.
And Damien is… smiling.
Not his usual scowl or sneer, but a genuine, dimpled grin that transforms his entire face. He looks younger, lighter… almost carefree.
I stop in my tracks, stunned. I can’t stop staring.
Axel chuckles beside me. “Play your cards right, Wildcat, and maybe Damien will give you a ride.”
He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.
I elbow him in the ribs. “Shut up.”
As if sensing my presence, Damien’s head snaps up. Our eyes lock across the distance, and the smile vanishes from his face as if it had never been there. He slows the bike, sets the boy down, and sends him running toward a nearby woman, his mother, I assume.
Damien swings off the bike and stalks away, jaw tight, shoulders rigid. Just like that, the carefree version of him disappears behind the mask of the brooding, angry male I’ve come to expect.
What the hell did I ever do to him?
My wolf whines at the loss of his smile.
The rest of the day slips by in conversation, story after story, each one more devastating than the last. It feels good to connect with them. But hearing what they’ve survived? That’s something else entirely.
Ethan approaches, his expression softening as he takes me in. “Are you alright, Luna?”
“Yeah. I will be. It’s just… a lot to take in. The horrors they’ve endured…” I swallow hard. “But I’m glad they have this place. They have you and a pack of alphas looking out for them.”
“We do what we can,” he says. “It’s not always easy, but watching them slowly heal—reclaim their lives, it’s worth it.”
I nod, glancing around at the recovering shifters. Some are tending the gardens, while others are tending to their fellow shifters. There’s a quiet sense of purpose here. Of safety.
“You’re making a real difference,” I murmur. “Giving them a chance to thrive again. It’s incredible.”
He huffs a laugh. “Don’t sound so surprised. We’re not just a bunch of brutish males, you know.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Could’ve fooled me with those bulging muscles and macho attitudes… Well, you and Oli are fine. Damien and Axel, on the other hand…” I tease, but I know it’s not true even as I say it. There’s more depth to these males than I could have ever imagined.
