[Seline's POV]
"We were just having a little talk," one of the panther shifters stammered. This stranger... the aura he emitted was quite a strong one, enough to influence the panther shifters as they slowly withdrew.
"We will be leaving. For now, at least," the one I presumed to be their leader said before they hastily left.
The stranger turned back to me. "Why were they after you? Is something wrong?" he questioned, but I only grabbed the glass of wine from his grasp. "Wait... what are you doing..." he wanted to say, but paused as I gulped down the whole glass, returning the empty glass back to him. I let out a heavy breath, almost feeling the cold tingle on my skin again.
I noticed my pack of cigarettes that those scumbags had dropped while running. I picked it up, removing one as I lit it up, taking a drag.
The stranger stood there the whole time, his gaze fixed on me, as I could tell many questions swirled in his mind, ones that he wanted to lay all at once.
"You must be new here," I said, breaking the silence that echoed between us.
"Yes," he replied.
I was able to tell that due to the way he acted, and I hadn't seen him around. It was normal advice not to get involved in fights or anything like that.
Many would just walk past as if they never noticed those in trouble. I mean, who would want to mess up their own life for a complete stranger, so it was easy to tell he wasn't from Arrow Brooke.
"So tell me, why were they after you? I hope they didn't hurt you," he questioned again, and I inhaled another puff before my lips slowly parted, exhaling out, "I have no idea why they were after me, and I care less. I could have easily handled them myself; you didn't have to step in," I said, tossing the half-burnt cigarette into the drizzling rain, turning my gaze back at the stranger. "They were just panther shifters, possibly some bandits or hooligans—nothing that I care about." I was saying, but our eyes met, my voice almost catching up in my throat.
"What is with this feeling?" I only questioned more as I found myself trying to avoid looking into those eyes of his.
"Is something wrong?" he asked, closing in a bit, but I merely distanced myself.
This wasn't like me to feel this way.
"I'll give you some tips since you're new," I said, trying to maintain a little distance.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"First, it's best you don't get close with strangers, and second, it's normal to play a selfish role. Trusting anyone here is a death sentence to you."
That was the only advice I was ready to give him as a newbie; I was sure he would learn the rest all by himself along the way, possibly the hard way, and the truth about what runs in Arrow Brooke.
I brought out another cigarette, offering one to him. "Care for a smoke?" I asked, but he merely refused. Judging from things, I knew it would either be that he changes things here, or they change him, but I would bet my high possibility on them changing him.
"Can I ask a question?" he asked.
"Sure," I replied.
He took a sigh before saying, "Is it common for so many to be gathered in one place?"
I'm sure he must be saying it due to the bar being filled with different shifters from different races.
My boss, even though I hated saying that. The very master, Vincent Verona, he owned many great bars just like this. Having so much connection, many shifters gather here to get drunk or get some information.
"Let's just say this bar holds more higher ground in Arrow Brooke and is more popular. So many come together for the very purpose. If you search for information, then you have come to the right place," I said.
I watched a sudden change in expression from him, but honestly, why was I talking to him this way? I had no time for any of that; my break would soon be over, and I had barely had enough silence that I needed. Those two would be out in no time, searching for my presence.
"Alright, I will keep that in mind. I hope we meet again," he said, extending his hand further for a handshake. Hesitating for a moment, I shook his hand as I watched him make his way back inside the bar.
My skin prickled in a way it hadn't for a while. My gaze was still locked on the door. My hand slowly rubbed my skin, hoping to ease it a bit.
The smile that painted on his lips, I had little idea, but even with how vivid they were, they could only seem false.
Like he was faking it all—the happy act.
Or was it just myself, unable to live without having a slight suspicion about anybody that passes by my side?
I still had no clue why those panther shifters had come after me, who had sent them, if the person wanted me dead or just wanted me harassed by them.
I guess my luck was to draw so many enemies on myself now, it seems.
The cigarette was still in my grasp, as I only threw it on the ground, stomping on it.
I made my way back inside the bar. Sasha and Landon were attending to the customers seated as our gaze met. I knew she wanted to utter some words but only tried not to.
"What are you doing here, Seline? Your break isn't over now, is it?" Landon cut in.
But a side of me only had the thought that they must have been planning something, recalling the guard saying I was slacking off.
Could it be they were possibly looking for a means just to leave me as one who wasn't even attending to her job? Just playing the day off, something that wasn't true, but who was I expecting to believe my word in the end?
"I can handle it from here," I said.
"I'm sure you can, but I have already got you covered here, Seline. So just take a break more," he insisted.
"I'm sure you and Sasha here have other works to do other than this," I said, and it seemed somehow my words brought a change in their expression, as that false smiling face faltered in those moments.
"Alright then..." Landon said as he and Sasha left the bartender, but just as they were leaving, Landon stopped beside me as he pressed in for a whisper.
"Count your days, Seline. I will make sure trash like you are thrown where you belong. You can act tough, but in the end, you are nothing more than a useless tool here," he whispered.
My fist clenched as I watched him withdraw a little, a smirk playing on his lips. "Now, I will leave you to it, Seline, but please do call me if it gets all tiring for you," he said, leaving.
I stood there for some moments before entering.
It seemed Lysander wasn't back yet. "What was he still doing?"
"Hey, how about serving me or just standing there?" a customer snapped, breaking me from my thoughts.
My grasp tightened against the glass cups before I painted a false smile.
"I'll be right there," I said, bringing some bottles of wine, one that I poured into a glass for them.
"Now that's it," the other one seated beside him said, as they slowly took a sip.
I hoped to get another bottle when I noticed him, the same stranger that I had met outside, gazing at me from a distance. He had suddenly withdrawn when our eyes met.
He was talking with a man and a woman. As they shared a toast, it seemed they were close. But something about them...
The way they dressed and acted, the scent alone, was able to tell me that they were wolf shifters.
A scowl etched itself on my face as my eyes narrowed at them.
I hated those.
But why was he talking with them? Was he also one of them? I couldn't tell much from his scent back then, but only the awkward attachment I felt.
"Another glass, would you, beauty?" my attention was drawn back to the two customers seated with a smirk on their lips as I poured them another glass. I hoped to leave when one of them grasped my hand, halting my steps.
"We are not done talking now, are we?" the man holding my wrist said.
"Come on, let's have a whole lot of fun," the other said.
I left no words to them, knowing they were new to this bar; that's why they lacked what runs here. The mere glance they received from the two guards walking around the bar was enough to let go of their grasp of me.
Even though I wasn't liked by any of the guards or workers here, the master's laws must be held—that no customer had the right to harm his workers unless he gives a go-ahead.
Nice, you would think he was, but the truth was, he was the devil himself.
One of the same guards approached my side afterward.
"Zane seeks your presence," he said, making me wonder why he suddenly wanted to see me. Could it be that Lysander might have said something to him?
I only hoped not; the last I wanted was having any trouble laid on me today.
Zane was the one placed to manage the club in the absence of Vincent Verona.
"Alright," I said as I followed the same guard who led me outside the bar as we walked through the drizzling rain.
But why was he leading me down this path? "Where are we going?" I questioned, but he left no response, only to stop at his track when we arrived in front of a building—it was a motel owned by Vincent.
The guard led me inside one of the rooms, and then I caught sight of him. Zane was seated with two girls cuddling him closely as he inhaled a powdery substance. "She is here, boss," the guard said before turning and leaving the room. I caught no sight of Lysander anywhere, so why was I called here then?
"Seline, that's your name, right?" I heard him say. I hesitated for a while before replying, "Yes," as he let out a breath, resting his head against the chair.
Before he eventually stood up, almost stumbling back from his stagger feet.
His eyes met mine as I watched him chuckle softly. He approached my side, and I found my legs retreating backward.
"You know, the only reason I decided to pick you and offer you a job here was so you could work your ass. But I heard you've been slacking off lately," he said, and it only assured me that this was either from Landon and Sasha or Lysander.
It couldn't be more than those three.
"Who said that..." I wanted to ask, but I felt a sudden grasp on my hair as he dragged it harder. "A piece of trash like you was given a job from the merciful master, and yet you are acting like you own it all."
It felt as though my hair was soon to detach from my head if he hadn't stopped, a sharp ache exploding in my head as his gaze narrowed at me. He released his grasp on me as I almost stumbled to the ground.
Only to bring out a gum as he chewed it. "Sometimes I wonder why we have weaklings like you here in the first place. Ungrateful ones."
He returned, seating himself back on the couch, his legs crossed, a sly grin formed on his lips. I wanted to show him who he called a weakling, but the very thought of Mom caused my clenched fist to unclench.
"I... I'm sorry," I said, hating every bit of the words I uttered. Why did I have to live my life each day, being looked down upon? I thought I would get used to it each day, but I couldn't in the end. I hate this; I hate it all.