The bar was alive with the sound of clinking glasses, the murmur of drunken conversation, and the ever-present hum of bass from the jukebox. Seline had long since stopped trying to figure out how the place managed to stay afloat. Arrow Brooke wasn’t a bustling metropolis by any means, and the pub was as run-down as the rest of the town. But for the few who lived in the sleepy little place, it was a sanctuary—a darkened haven from the world outside.
 Seline had learned to adapt to the rhythm of this place over the years. The regulars knew her by name, though they rarely spoke to her beyond the basics. As long as she served them drinks and stayed out of their way, everything was fine. And that’s exactly what she did: she poured, cleaned, and occasionally made small talk with those brave enough to approach her.
 Tonight, however, her eyes were more on the crowd than on her customers. A table of locals, already a few drinks deep, was getting louder, arguing over something she couldn’t be bothered to understand. Her fingers twitched as she wiped down the bar top, her gaze drifting to the end of the room where the rowdy group had gathered. The tension between them was palpable. She could feel it in her bones.
 Seline was no stranger to conflict. She had grown up in a pack where every day had been a struggle for power, control, and survival. But her exile from the pack, her departure from the only life she’d ever known, had hardened her. In a world filled with constant threats—both seen and unseen—she had learned to keep her distance, to never get too close, and to always, always be on alert.
 She poured another round of whiskey for the middle-aged man who’d been nursing the same glass for the past hour. Craig was a regular. She’d seen him enough times to know that he preferred his drink neat and that his stories of “better days” were just a distraction from the life he’d failed to live.
 “That’s on your tab, Craig,” she said, sliding the glass across the counter with practiced precision.
 Craig barely looked at her as he grabbed the drink. “Thanks, kid,” he muttered before turning back to his buddies.
 Seline didn’t wait for any more pleasantries. Her attention was pulled away by the clinking sound of a glass being set down a little too forcefully. At the far end of the bar, a young woman had just poured her drink too aggressively, causing it to spill over the rim. Her companion, a guy in a leather jacket, was laughing, clearly mocking her for the clumsy move.
 Seline didn’t need to get involved. She knew better than to engage with every bit of drama. But the girl’s embarrassed face caught her attention, and Seline’s protective instincts stirred. She leaned across the counter, grabbing a towel and quickly wiping up the mess.
 “You good?” Seline asked, her tone neutral but with a hint of concern.
 The girl glanced up at her, startled. She wiped her eyes, blinking away tears that threatened to spill over. “Yeah. I’m fine,” she said, sniffling.
 Her companion smirked, not taking the situation seriously at all. Seline knew the type—more concerned with their own self-image than the people around them. She didn’t even spare him a glance as she turned back to the girl.
 “Here,” Seline said, offering her a fresh drink. “On the house.”
 The girl stared at her for a moment, then hesitated. “I… I didn’t mean to spill it everywhere.”
 Seline’s lips twisted into a wry smile. “No harm done. Just… try not to break anything else, alright?”
 The girl nodded, her cheeks flushing pink with embarrassment. Seline felt a small flicker of warmth in her chest—one of those rare moments where she actually cared. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, she found herself holding on to it just a little longer.
 Before she could take a step back, her phone buzzed in her pocket. She winced, her heart sinking at the familiar name on the screen. Landlord.
 “Of course,” she muttered under her breath. “Just what I need.”
 She grabbed the phone, stepping away from the counter to answer in private. Her thumb swiped across the screen, and she pressed it to her ear.
 “What now?” Seline asked, the frustration thick in her voice.
 “You’re late again,” her landlord’s voice growled from the other end. “I’m not running a charity here, Seline. Get the money to me by Friday, or you’re out.”
 She let out a long, slow breath, trying to keep her temper in check. The last thing she needed was a scene at the bar. “I’ve told you before, I’m working on it. Just a few more days.”
 “A few more days?” He scoffed. “I’ve been more than patient with you, but you’re pushing it. I don’t care what your excuses are. If I don’t see payment by the end of the week, you’ll be out on the streets. Understand?”
 Seline bit back the urge to scream. “Yeah, I understand. I’ll get the money.”
 The call ended abruptly. She stood there for a moment, staring at the screen, before dropping it back into her pocket. The weight of her landlord’s words hung over her like a storm cloud. She’d barely managed to pay her rent this month, and the thought of losing what little she had left made her stomach churn.
 Seline didn’t have time for this. She couldn’t afford to let it drag her down any longer. She needed to push forward, like she always did.
 She made her way to the back door, where the cool night air hit her like a slap in the face. The cigarette pack in her pocket was a welcome distraction, and she pulled one out, lighting it with quick precision.
 The ember flared to life, and she took a long drag, the smoke filling her lungs. It wasn’t the healthiest choice, but it was something—anything to drown out the thoughts that were spiraling in her head.
 For a few moments, she was at peace, just breathing and letting the tension fade. But it didn’t last long. She heard the sound of footsteps behind her, slow and deliberate.
 Her instincts kicked in, and she straightened, her eyes scanning the alleyway. Two figures were stepping out from the shadows, moving with the predatory grace of shifters. She didn’t need to see their eyes to know what they were.
 Panther shifters.
 Seline’s heart raced. The weight of their gaze felt like a physical presence, and she forced herself to ignore the way her skin prickled with unease. She wasn’t some helpless girl anymore, no matter what they might think.
 “Can I help you?” she asked, her voice cool but with an edge of warning.
 The wiry one smirked, his sharp green eyes glinting in the dim light. “We’ve been watching you.”
 “I’m sure you have,” she replied dryly. “What do you want?”
 He tilted his head, his gaze never leaving hers. “You don’t belong here, do you?”
 She held his gaze steadily, not flinching. “I belong wherever I choose to be.”
 “Feisty,” he mused, his voice dripping with amusement. “I like that.”
 “I don’t care what you like,” she shot back. “Just get to the point.”
 The man stepped closer, his scent sharp and feral. “I think you might have something we want. Something valuable.”
 Seline’s pulse quickened, but she didn’t back down. “I’m not interested. So, unless you’re planning to buy a drink, I suggest you leave.”
 The other panther shifter, who had been silently observing, stepped forward. His eyes gleamed with malicious intent. “Maybe we don’t need to buy a drink. Maybe we’ll just take what we want.”
 Seline’s heart thudded painfully in her chest. She had to act, and fast. But just as she moved to take a step back, a voice cut through the tense air like a knife.
 “Is there a problem here?”
 Seline froze, her gaze snapping to the source of the voice. Standing at the mouth of the alley was a man, tall and broad-shouldered, with dark brown hair and eyes that seemed to gleam like molten amber. His presence was like a tidal wave crashing through the calm, sweeping away everything in its path.
 The panther shifters hesitated, their eyes flicking nervously between each other. The wiry one took a step back, the edge of his arrogance faltering.
 “No problem,” he muttered, his voice low and defensive.
 The other man didn’t speak, but his piercing gaze remained fixed on Seline, a quiet force that made her breath catch in her throat. There was something about him, something that commanded attention. Something that made her feel, for the first time in a long while, like maybe she wasn’t alone after all.