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Prologue - Melody
It had been a year since Melody Rivers escaped her old pack and joined the Silverdale—a year of hardship and struggles, but still, anything was better than being trapped in Mario's pack.
Having found a calling as a private nanny, she had believed she could avoid being financially indebted to the Silverdale pack. But that was before her latest job turned sour. It was just typical that it would come down to a man, to his attraction for her, causing her to lose her livelihood.
As she sat at the bar of the Silver Moon with her shoulders slumped, head hanging over the single glass of malt whisky she could talk herself into, she could still see his wife's angry face as she had fired her. No amount of talking and pleading had convinced the woman that Melody had no interest in her husband, that the problem had all been on his end when he had tried to force himself on her, as men so often tried to do.
Men, she was used to. They had often taken advantage of her in her life. Mario had taken the women of his pack whenever and wherever he wanted. What Melody wasn't used to was the way the women treated her now. Before, all the women of her pack had tried to look out for each other, all sharing a common enemy in Mario and his followers, all doing what little they could to protect each other and the pups of their pack.
Now, Melody was more alone than she had ever been, and thanks to her own foolish mistake of refusing financial aid from her new pack, she had one final paycheck to last her until she managed to find another job.
Three times in a single year she had found herself in the same position. Always for one reason or another, accused of stealing jewelry or fraternizing with the husband, accused of being too heavy handed with the children, even fired because they simply couldn't afford to keep her on.
There was no security in her line of work, and yet, for the most part, she wouldn't change it. She had always loved the children.
That didn't change the fact that she was fed up with being fired and even more fed up with her regrets in not accepting more help from her newfound pack. She couldn't turn back now. There was no crawling to Dash Silverdale to plead for help, no telling her newfound friend Tara all her hardships. The wife of Dash's second-in-command would likely run straight to the alpha anyway on her behalf, and that was the last thing she needed.
No, she was determined to get her life back on track without falling into anyone else's debt. Never again would she allow herself to be bound or indebted to another soul. She cringed just thinking of her first twenty-three years of life stuck in Mario's pack.
And so, she had promised herself just one drink to ease her shattered nerves before she turned in for the night, ready to start anew in the morning.
The bar had been quiet when she arrived, just the way she liked it. And she sat where she always sat on the rare occasions that she went in, in the shadows at the very end of the bar, where she could make clear eye contact with the barman whenever she wanted a drink but would otherwise be left alone.
Or so she thought. She ought to have known better than to go looking for a quiet drink on a Friday night. Though Silverdale was a small community, there were some livewires in town, and it just so happened that a couple of them were out having a little fun.
The two male werewolves were playing pool, growing more and more rowdy with every pitcher that landed on their table.
Though she recognized both of them from pack meetings, she had never been in close enough proximity to have a conversation, always choosing to keep to herself and avoid pack politics.
But she'd had a rough day and her ex-employer's words still rung in her ears.
She had done her hardest to keep her thoughts to herself, but when she noticed other patrons beginning to get annoyed, knowing they as non-werewolves would be too cautious to approach the rowdy wolves, her anger and frustration caused her to take matters into her own hands.
She swigged down what remained of her drink and slammed the glass down on the bar.
"Pour me another please, Ed!" she called to the barman before she slipped off her stool, adjusted her leather jacket and wandered over to the pool table.
"Hey guys," she said, forcing a smile upon her face, though she allowed her eyes to blaze with warning. "Would you mind turning the volume down a little? Some of us are trying to have a quiet drink after a hard day."
"And here I was thinking she-wolves knew how to have fun," the fairer of the two chuckled, clapping his dark-haired friend on the back.
What were their names?Melody thought, trying her hardest to recollect. Even after a year, having kept on the outskirts of the pack, she still didn't know everybody.
"Why don't you calm down a little and join us for a game?" the fair-haired werewolf continued, even as his friend started to scowl.
I'd rather stick pins in my eyes,Melody thought. Lewis made her skin crawl with his oh-so-handsome-and-he-knows-it smile. She'd met the likes of him a thousand times over. A big, burly werewolf popular with the ladies, who thought he could get away with practically everything. Luckily for his friend, though he had the typical Silverdale black hair, blue eyes and drop-dead gorgeous looks, he didn't seem quite so bigheaded, and so she decided to play nice.
"I think I'll pass, thanks," she said, half-turning back to the bar. "I'm not exactly in the mood for playing games."
"Maybe one of us could do a thing or two to get you in the mood?" Lewis suggested, his tone so sleazy that it made bile rise in Melody's throat. She had seen him with one or two of the Silverdale she-wolves over the past year who were practically drooling over him, but she couldn't for the life of her imagine why.
A witty remark burned on Melody's lips, but instead, she ignored him and headed back to her stool. Her request appeared to have worked, for the volume in the bar dipped dramatically, and she finally felt like she could hear herself think.
On examining that fact, she wished she hadn't asked them to cool it. Right now, the last thing she wanted to do was think. No job, a mountain of bills piling up at home, house repairs to do and rent past due. She didn't want to think about any of it.
She was almost relieved when her werewolf hearing picked up Lewis's next words, "Go and get her. She's more your type than mine, anyway."
"No way," his friend protested, "She said she wanted a quiet night."
