Chapter 43: LunaInTraining

Chapter 43: Chapter 43: LunaInTraining

Azura burst through the hotel doors with the force of a woman who had just escaped an emotional hostage situation, nearly clotheslining the poor doorman in the process. He stumbled back with a yelp, his pristine white glove clutching his chest like he’d just witnessed a murder.

"Sorry! Private emergency! Diarrhea of the soul!" she yelled over her shoulder without stopping.

Her head snapped toward the porte-cochère just in time to see two sleek black luxury cars gliding toward the Blackwood family like panthers stalking their prey. The triplets and Kyler stood in a loose formation, waiting, their presence so imposing that even the hotel’s marble pillars seemed to lean away from them.

Azura’s mind went completely blank.

Not because the cars were beautiful—though they were, obscenely so, probably costing more than her entire wardrobe, her brother’s wardrobe, and the combined life savings of three small villages.

No, her mind went blank because she suddenly realized she had absolutely no plan for transportation.

...how was I supposed to follow them?

Like, physically.

With a vehicle.

Which she did not have.

Was she going to run after them? Hop on a random city bus and pray to the Moon Goddess that they were heading in the same direction? Steal a bicycle from a nearby child and pedal furiously while pretending she was in an action movie?

"Shit," she whispered to the universe. "Shit, shit, shit."

She looked left. No taxis.

She looked right. No buses.

She looked up at the sky, as if expecting a helicopter to descend from the heavens and rescue her from her own stupidity.

Nothing. Not even a pigeon offering a ride.

Azura suddenly felt incredibly, profoundly, soul-crushingly foolish. She decided to stalk the most dangerous werewolf family in existence, and had simply... forgotten to account for how she would actually follow them.

And what if they weren’t even going to Crimson Crest Pack today? What if they were just heading to a fancy restaurant to eat overpriced steak and discuss territorial boundaries? Was she really going to tail them for days—days—like some kind of amateur detective in a low-budget crime drama?

She had no proof. Only speculation. Only the gut feeling is that today, or maybe tomorrow, will be the start of the novel’s main plot. The female lead’s first meeting with her harem. The moment everything went from "boring backstory" to "chaotic romance."

80% certain. That was her confidence level.

Which, in Azura’s experience, meant there was a 20% chance she was about to make a complete fool of herself.

She snapped out of her internal crisis just as one of the cars came to a smooth stop. Her head whipped around, searching frantically for any kind of vehicle she could hijack—taxi, rickshaw, a particularly fast-moving shopping cart—

And then she saw it.

Behind one of the hotel’s decorative bushes, a woman was lying flat on her stomach, her camera clicking furiously as she rolled from one shrub to another with the grace of an Olympic gymnast who had lost her way in life.

Click. Roll. Click. Roll.

She was a human tumbleweed with a photography addiction.

But then she stopped.

Her camera lowered.

Her face went pale, her eyes wide with horror as she stared at the seven men. She stopped taking pictures entirely, her mouth moving silently, forming words that Azura couldn’t hear.

Azura’s brain connected the dots instantly.

LunaInTraining.

The woman from the Hot Alphas group chat. The one who had driven for hours just to snap photos of the triplets. The one who called herself a bush.

That’s her. That’s definitely her.

Azura sprinted toward the bush, dropping to a crouch beside the woman just in time to hear her whisper:

"Impossible... that leek is mine...?"

Azura blinked.

"...Did you just say—leek? Like the vegetable? You’re having a crisis over a vegetable right now?"

The woman didn’t respond. She just kept staring at the men, her face pale, her lips trembling.

"That leek... mine..."

Azura had no idea what kind of nonsense this woman was spewing. Leeks? Were they talking about vegetables right now? Was this a cooking show? Why did every single werewolf in this novel insist on speaking in cryptic, unhinged riddles?

But she didn’t have time to unpack that.

One of the cars was already pulling away.

Azura reached out and smacked the top of LunaInTraining’s head—not hard, but enough to jolt her out of her trance.

"SNAP OUT OF IT! They’re about to move!"

LunaInTraining flinched, her eyes refocusing with a dazed blink.

"If you still want to stalk them, we need to MOVE! You’re LunaInTraining, right? Great. Skip the introduction. No time for pleasantries. Do you have a vehicle? Yes? Good. We’re taking it. NOW."

Azura grabbed the woman by the arm and hauled her to her feet, already scanning the parking lot for whatever rust bucket LunaInTraining had arrived in.

Stalking mission: still in progress.

Sanity levels: declining rapidly.

But the plot wasn’t going to save itself.

"Wait, wait, wait—who are you?! How do you know my username—OH, you’re from the Hot Alphas chat! Right, right, identity doesn’t matter, you’re too pretty to be a serial killer, that’s science—ah, no, no, that’s not important! What’s important is those cars! My leek... MY LEEK IS WITH THEM!! Hurry up—you’re going the WRONG way! My vehicle is parked near the main gate guardhouse! The security guard felt sorry for me and let me leave it there!"

LunaInTraining grabbed Azura’s wrist and yanked her in the opposite direction, her legs already pumping as she ran, stuffing her camera into her bag with one hand while fumbling for keys with the other.

Azura was briefly relieved that this woman had immediately accepted the absurdity of their situation without question. No hesitation. No "who are you and why should I trust you." Just pure, unhinged commitment to the stalking cause.

But then the words registered.

"...Why did the security guard feel sorry for you?"

LunaInTraining did not answer.

And when they rounded the corner and Azura saw the vehicle in question, she understood.

It was a delivery scooter.

A delivery scooter.

A sad, beaten, half-dead delivery scooter that looked like it had been through a war, a divorce, and a mid-life crisis. The paint was peeling. The mirrors were held on by what appeared to be duct tape and prayers. The front basket was dented and contained a single, lonely receipt that fluttered in the wind like a white flag of surrender.

Azura felt a headache bloom behind her eyes.

"Where is your car?!" she demanded, her voice cracking. "You said you drove FOUR HOURS to get here! Four hours in WHAT—this?!"

"There’s only one seat—how are we both supposed to—"

"Easy!"

LunaInTraining grabbed Azura by the shoulders with the intensity of a woman possessed.

"I’m VERY short! So you drive, and I’ll stand in front of you, crouching down like a toddler! Like a backpack! But forward! A frontpack!"

She demonstrated by hunching her tiny body into a compact ball, knees bent, arms tucked, looking for all the world like a gremlin preparing for takeoff.

"HURRY! HURRY! THEY’RE ALMOST GONE!"

The security guard—a kind, elderly man who had clearly seen too much in his lifetime—watched the scene unfold with growing horror.

"Miss, that’s not safe—please—at least wear helmets—"

But LunaInTraining had already tossed the keys to Azura and was perched on the scooter, waiting.

Azura stared at the keys in her palm.

She stared at the scooter.

She stared at the tiny woman crouched on the seat like a gargoyle about to experience velocity.

She had never ridden a scooter in her life.

Hell, she had barely ridden a bicycle without nearly dying ten times in a single minute.

This was it. This was how she died. Not by the hands of vengeful male leads seeking justice for Selena. Not by Kyler Blackwood’s cold, murderous gaze. Not by some dramatic werewolf execution.

No.

She was going to die on a half-broken delivery scooter, with a strange woman squatting in front of her like a deranged jockey, while stalking a family of ultra-wealthy werewolves.

The Moon Goddess had a sick sense of humor.

Azura grabbed the handlebars, her soul already leaving her body.

"IF I DIE, I’M HAUNTING EVERY SINGLE ONE OF YOU."