Time does its thing, making the weekend end quickly, and the week drag on like a life sentence. Work is so busy that I'm kept distracted, but I often looked at the door, waiting for Kaden to walk through it.

He never did, and I'm not sure what that means. Are we done?

It's Saturday now, and the pack is celebrating a summer festival. I'm obligated to attend, as we're thanking the moon for the change in seasons. The evening is beautiful. Everyone is outside— some shifted, most in their flesh forms. Food is being barbecued, children are running around, and nearby houses are decorated with flowers. Laughter is in the air. It's a beautiful day; a welcomed change to the four white walls I'm surrounded by in the clinic.

As I sip my lemonade, I wait for Chaney. She was supposed to meet with me ten minutes ago, but I guess she got caught up.

"Hello doctor," James, an elder, greets me.

"Hey James. Are you staying off that bad leg?"

"Nope. I'm glad you're out here relaxing, kid. You work too much. Nowadays, you look as old as me."

"You mean, ancient man." I laugh.

He waves and disappears into a crowd. I finish my lemonade and feel so refreshed that I figure it's time to de-hydrate myself. I walk over to the open bar, which is right on someone's porch.

"Hey, doc."

I greet everyone and request a glass of whiskey.

I take a sip. The bitter taste makes my nose wrinkle, but that doesn't stop a familiar scent from alerting my senses. Kaden is here. He steps out of the house, as potent and startling as the whiskey in my mouth. His amber eyes mimic the color in my cup, but unlike the whiskey that warmed my chest as it traveled down my throat, Kaden cooks me alive.

He knows what he's doing by staring at me. He wants to fry and devour me. Even with the beautiful female at his side, clinging to his arm, he gives me his undivided attention.

She's desert: optional. I'm the main meal: needed and fulfilling.

I toss back another sip of whiskey and walk off the porch with my back straight and pace steady. His eyes follow me, casting a line of desire that trails after me. I'm too smart to trip. There are no strings attached in our arrangement.

I know that the urge to chase after me is biting him. He can't help it; he's an animal at heart.

"Doctor Kenna." He calls for me, caving into his desires.

I stop so abruptly that the whiskey in my cup sways violently like a turbulent ocean. Why is Kaden calling for me? Why, in front of all these people?

I turn, and he's there. They are both there.

"I wanted to thank you again for treating my wound last week." He says, face expressionless.

What about the aching cock I pleased?

I have nothing to hide, so I don't play the same game. I smile at him, warming my features.

"You're welcome, Alpha. I was glad to see that you avoided any strenuous exercise last week. I know you wouldn't have been able to handle the pressure."

My comment sinks his demeanor. His jaw ticks with irritation, because he knows I'm mocking him for not coming to fuck me all week. I shouldn't be playing these games. Not with a man of this stature. I'm a doctor; a healer. He's a destroyer.

My eyes drop to his jaw. I remember his sharp teeth, glistening with my slick when he ate my pussy.

Can the smell of whiskey mask my arousal?

"Kenna!" Chaney calls for me.

"Excuse me, Alpha." I clear my throat and take a last look at the female beside him. Her long, glittery dress makes her look like a decorated carpet draped over his arm. Well, at least she tried. I didn't try at all. My hair is in a bun, and I wear a loose orange sundress that makes me look like a runaway inmate.

"I'm Sylvie." She smiles, and it lights up her pretty face. She seems kind enough. Kindness is an essential trait for a potential Luna.

"Pleasure's all mine," I reply genuinely.

With a last glance at Kaden, I leave to meet Chaney.

"Hey."

"Hi." She frowns. "Whats with the orange? You look like a runaway inmate."

I chuckle. "I know, right?"

We have a few more drinks, laugh, and eat barbecue. Kaden's eyes follow. I caught him staring many times. Sylvie caught him, too. I'm disappointed that she did nothing about it. To survive a man like Kaden, you have to take meaty bites and survive them, too. Staying idle is playing dead; admitting defeat. If I were on Kaden's arm as his company, I wouldn't condone this disrespect.

Sylvie shouldn't let him admire another female while she clings to his arm. Life is too colorful to be painted as a pushover out of all things.

A throwback song comes on, so I pick up my skirts to my knees and dance. I laugh with my friend, spinning and jumping. My skin glistens under the sun, and I don't care if a cloud of judgement is being cast by ten people or just Kaden, because I feel alive.

No one owns me, not even the sun. I'm a creature of the moon, and like the moon, I might be full of craters and imperfections, but I'm just as sturdy. I know my value, and it will never be diminished by a man who only has temporary access to my body.

He's watching. Is he upset that I'm flashing my legs, but he can't make a scene?

I grin. Good.

I'm an average-looking female with more books than friends, a foul temper and not a clue of where my life is going, but I sure as heck am memorable.