Rejected by My Alpha Now He Replaced Me with a Copycat Luna novel Chapter 31

Chapter 31

Raven’s POV

I repeated the mantra like a prayer as I retreated toward the kitchen-Dexter’s mess, Dexter’s problem. It wasn’t like the bar would be slammed this early anyway.

Slapping the order slip onto the stainless steel wheel, I gave it a sharp spin toward Hank. “Got two new tickets for you.”

The old cook shuffled over with a grunt, squinting at the paper. His wrinkled face twisted at the high-pitched shrieking still echoing from the dining area. “Christ alive. That unholy screechin’ mean the devil’s handmaidens just rolled in?”

A snort escaped before I could stop it. “Hank,” I scolded halfheartedly, pressing my knuckles to my mouth.

He wiped his hands on his perpetually stained apron, fixing me with a look that had seen through decades of bullshit. “Don’t even try tellin’ me I’m wrong.”

I couldn’t. So I pressed my lips into a tight line, shoulders shaking with suppressed laughter as I turned toward the bar-anything to escape before my poker face cracked completely.

The cocktail shaker clinked as I focused on crafting Nox’s drink, the rhythmic motion grounding me. Ice cubes cracked under the pressure of my grip.

“Luv,” Dexter’s voice came as a strained whisper at my elbow.

Glancing up briefly, I kept working. “What?”

“Could you…” He gestured vaguely toward the newcomers. “Handle table four?”

“Busy.” I layered pineapple juice carefully over the ice. “That’s your mess to clean up.”

He edged closer until I could feel the warmth radiating through his leather jacket. “Name your price.”

The corner of my mouth twitched. “You couldn’t pay enough.”

“Christ, woman.” Dexter’s shoulders squared, the movement stretching his shirt across his chest. Then his posture crumpled. “Fine. I’m admitting it – full coward status here. Need-the-nightlight, check-under-the-bed terrified. Now will you save me?”

A surprised laugh burst from me before I could stop it. When I turned to grab the soda gun, I found Dexter staring at me with an expression that

made my pulse stutter.

“What?” I snapped, suddenly self-conscious.

He shook himself slightly. “That’s the first time I’ve heard you laugh.” His voice dropped. “It’s devastating.”

The compliment landed like a blow, warmth and discomfort twisting in my chest. “Save the flattery. I’ll deal with your fan club.”

“But I-”

I was already moving, cutting off whatever he’d been about to say. The trio of women looked up expectantly as I distributed menus.

“We’ll take our drink orders now,” the brunette-Danielle?-demanded before I could leave.

Cecilia’s smile turned saccharine. “Actually, we’d prefer Dexter. He’s an old… friend of mine.”

The emphasis on “friend” made my skin crawl. “He’s occupied,” I said smoothly. “But I’m sure he’ll visit if he’s free.”

Cecilia’s gaze sharpened. “You seem awfully familiar with Dexter’s schedule.”

“I’m familiar with the concept of coworkers,” I countered, already stepping away. The truth burned in my throat – I didn’t know Dexter at all. Which made my wolf’s possessive stirrings and the strange tightness in my chest utterly ridiculous.

The condensation-beaded glass made a soft click as I set it before Nox. “One virgin piña colada.”

Nox’s fingers traced the rim where three pineapple wedges perched. “Extra garnish?”

“My mercy has its limits,” I said, lips quirking. “Today you got lucky.”

His gaze flickered toward the chattering women, then back to me with startling perception. “You’re handling them like a pro.”

–

I rolled one shoulder. “Bullies don’t scare me.” The casual term belied years of experience recognizing cruelty in all its forms – whether wrapped in catty remarks or carved into flesh with silver knives. Already I could feel their venomous energy pressing against my mental shields. If they lingered much longer, I’d be paying for this shift with a skull-splitting headache.

Nox’s eyes locked onto mine with startling intensity – just for a heartbeat – and something electric crackled between us. Then he looked away, leaving me oddly bereft. “You’re certain?” he murmured.

“Please,” I scoffed, flexing my fingers. “I’ve eaten scarier things for breakfast.”

Returning to the viper’s nest, I pasted on my best server smile. “What’ll you ladies be drinking?”

Three pairs of eyes assessed me like I’d tracked mud on their designer shoes. Sherry the blonde sniffed. “Diet Coke.” Her brunette shadow Danielle echoed the order like a poorly trained parrot.

Cecilia’s manicured nails tap-tap-tapped against the laminate. “Diet Sprite.” The challenge in her voice was unmistakable – she knew damn well

we didn’t carry it. Regulars always did.

“Apologies,” I said through clenched teeth. “Our diet options begin and end with Coke.”

Her fingers stilled. “How provincial. A club soda with lime then.” Her lips curled. “Made by Dexter’s hands only.”

The possessiveness in her tone sent an irrational spike of heat through my veins. I forced my voice level. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Unless he makes it,” Cecilia declared, fluttering her lashes, “I simply won’t drink a thing.”

“Noted.” I turned before she could see my eye roll, muttering under my breath, “Guess you’ll die of thirst then.”

Dexter’s knife stilled mid-slice behind the bar, citrus juice dripping onto the cutting board. “How dire is the situation?”

“Your adoring fan insists only your magical touch can make a simple club soda palatable.” I lined up the glasses with more force than necessary.

The blade clattered against wood as Dexter whirled to face me. “You’re joking.”

“Clearly your taste in women matches your taste in jokes.” The words slipped out before I could stop them.

His jaw tightened. “One drunken mistake months ago during a… difficult time.” There was something raw in his voice that caught my attention.

Against my better judgment, I let my mental shields slip – just for a heartbeat. The emotional tsunami hit like a freight train. From the women behind me came the acrid burn of jealousy, the sticky-sweet poison of malice. But Dexter… Dexter radiated pain so profound it stole my breath.

I staggered as the onslaught of emotions seared through me, barely registering Dexter’s curse as he lunged forward. His hands gripped my elbows, steadying me as I rebuilt my mental fortifications brick by brick.

“Christ, Raven!” His usual playful tone had vanished, replaced by genuine concern.

The words tumbled out before I could stop them, my voice barely above a whisper: “What happened to you?”

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