Female Warrior's second chance Mate

As if it’s not hard enough being half werewolf, an ex marine and a bar owner, I'm a woman with PTSD. Being a woman can be frustrating at times. People tend to underestimate those they see as weak, but those who underestimate me usually regret it in one way or another. With the PTSD I get flashbacks but in the traditional sense. My flashbacks come when I'm sleeping. I get very vivid dreams, they bother me but pose no danger to those around me, which is good because with my level of fighting skills and the fact that I have werewolf strength I would be way too dangerous to be out in the world. So as you can imagine I don’t get much sleep. I was in the military for eight years, I served two tours in the middle east, one in Iraq and one in Afghanistan. I’ve been shot three times, earned six metals, and spent most of my service bouncing around the world. Ever since I was young I’ve been a fighter, so growing up in a pack of werewolves was beneficial for me. As soon as I was able I started training with the pack warriors. Our alpha at the time, who just so happened to be my uncle, worried about my safety since I was not only a young girl, but I had my father’s blood running through my veins. Why was he so worrisome? This would be because my father is human. I had it hard, I was bullied being called a 'half-breed' and made to feel like an outcast. Those who bullied me didn’t care about the fact that my father was Cuban, and my skin color was different from theirs. All they saw was the human. But they don’t call me the pack spitfire for nothing. After I got my ass kicked I was determined to prove myself so I worked longer and harder than everyone else. I trained with the warriors in the morning before school, and took martial arts classes after school. It wasn’t long before I was the strongest female warrior in the pack. That wasn’t enough for me. I wanted to do some good in the world. So when I was in my last year of high school, a group of marines came to my history class as guest speakers, that proverbial light bulb turned on and I knew what I wanted to do after graduation. As for the PTSD, it’s the reason that I didn’t re-up my contract. When I was 26, I was stationed in Mongolia. We were helping with the rebel soldier problem. The first month was business as usual, but once we entered our second month, s**t took a left turn and hit the fan. We ended being cornered, and in order to get the rest of my unit out alive, I gave myself up. Long story short I ended up chained to the ceiling of a Mongolian prison and tortured for six days. After I was rescued and sent back to home base in Barstow California, I decided it was time to get out. Once I was well enough to leave, I didn’t know what I was going to do or where I was going to go. All I knew was I didn't want to go back home. So I closed my eyes and stuck a tack into a map and that is how I ended up in Big Bear Lake, California. Being the smart person that I am I put half of every paycheck into savings. I had enough money to get an apartment, I could have survived for two years with just what I had in savings. That meant I didn’t have to worry about where my next meal was coming from, while I figured out what I wanted to do with my life outside of the military. I didn’t have to wait long. One night while out on an evening run trying to clear my head, I stumbled across a run down, boarded up bar. It looked like the inside of the place hadn’t seen the light of day in years. I jotted down the number on the for sale sign. I got the place for $20,000 under their asking price, they were desperate to sell the place. After many months of hard work and more interviews than I care to ever experience again, the Blue Moon Tavern was born. That was two years ago.