Novels by Allison King

JayVoicesspillfromthelivingroomjustofffromthegrandstaircase,screamingformyattention.IturntowardthemandfindMadisonnearthefireplace,withherarmswrappedaroundherselfsotightlythatitmakesmychestburnobsessively.Herfaceispale,herbodytremblesbutshewon’tbackdownthroughhersheerstubbornnessalone.She'sanAlpha’sdaughter,herbloodthickwithdeterminationandlonglineoflegacy.Ialmostadmireit.Alp

JayMadisongasps,hereyesinstantlyswellwithtearsandherhandcovershermouth.Onesideofthegatehangstwistedinward,themetalpeeledbacklikerippedfleshwhileclawmarksscorealongtheframeinthickstreaks.Theguardpostbesideitisbarelystandingwiththewindowsshatteredandtheroofhalfcollapsedin.Thiswasn’tarogueattack,thiswasamassacre.Nashjustdidn’twanttoadmitit.Myfooteasesoffthegasandthecar

MadisonTerrorclawsthroughmybody,burrowingdeepintomybonesuntileverymuscleislockedinplace.Shockisastrangething.Ialwaysassumeditwasloud,dramaticenoughtotearthroughyoulikelightningandleavenothingstandinginitswake.Butrealshock?It’smuchquieterthanthat.Itslipsintoyourbodylikecoldwater,seepingthrougheverylimbuntilyourbodynolongerfeelslikeyourownandyourthoughtsslidethroughyour&

JayYoucan’tbeafraidofthethingsthatmakeyoufeelalive.Idon’trememberwhereIhearditfirst.Maybefromsomeoneolder,someoneawholelotwiser.Someonewhodidn’thavetolivewiththeconsequencesofactuallybelievingit.NowI’mstartingtorealizeit’snotthatsimple.Becausethosethingsdon’tjustmakeyoufeelalive,theymakeyourecklessandeverythingaboutthisistextbookrecklessbutIstilldon&rsqu

MadisonAstingshootsacrossmyknucklesasIpoundonthedoor.Thesoundcomesofftooloudandurgent.Icringe,swallowinghardandsqueezingmyeyesshutlikethat’sgoingtoreversethedecisionI’vealreadycommittedto.Mychestistight,myjawlocked,myfingerscurlingintomypalmasIknockagain,harderthistime,becauseifhethinksI’mjustgoingtowalkaway…ifhethinksI’mgoingtopretend&nb

JayMy jaw shifts slightly, resentment coiling in my chest as Madison’s face flashes through my head and I cut the thought off hard.This is easier, simpler. Straightforward, with no strings attached. It’s just an outlet. A much needed release. “You busy?” I ask.A small pause passes. Then it follows with a softer, knowing exactly what I mean, “For you? Never.”It’s not like I expected anything less. I exhale slowly, something dark settling into place. “Come over.”There’s no hesitation this time. “Send me the address.”I end the call without a goodbye, already keying my address into the phone.I’m not even fully through my door before the knock echoes behind me. A smirk pulls on my lips, a reminder that she’s always been an eager beaver. My shirt’s already halfway off as I make my way to the door, fabric dragging over my shoulders before I toss it somewhere behind me and reach for the handle.The door swings open and she’s standing there already smiling, her long brown hair cascadi