LOGINI’m exhausted, but I can’t stop. Stopping means my pup will get further away from me, and the Academy will have more time to hide him. Stopping isn’t an option, and my body just needs to understand that. I can feel my muscles feel like two pieces of sandpaper being rubbed together in an attempt to make a fire, my stomach is growling, and there’s a strange pulling sensation that happens everytime my wolf leaps or runs just a little too fast. I’m slowing down, and no amount of pushing is making me speed up. I was running just ahead of Gideon and the man claiming to be my father; their wolves keep looking back as if checking on me, Gideon is sweet to keep me in his eyesight, but the white wolf is just pissing me off. I know it's because my nerves are frayed and I’m on edge, but each time his yellow eyes land on me, I feel like clawing his damn face off. The man has been AWOL for my entire life, and suddenly he’s so concerned with my safety that he’s checking on me every few minutes. ‘Gi
My father. Did I hear Gideon right? No way this massive man is my father. I mean, logically, I know someone had to fuck the woman who birthed me, but I never thought I would meet him. I’ve never given him much thought; when I was younger I used to wonder about my mother and why she gave me to the Academy, but I never once thought about my father; my young mind just couldn’t understand how two parents could let me go so easily. I know now that it wasn’t as clean as all that, but if this mountain man were my father, then he could have fought for me. He’s almost double the size of Gideon, and if it wasn’t for the few grey hairs at his temple, I could almost believe he was the same age as Gideon. He could have fought for me, which means he chose to walk away before I was torn away from the woman who birthed me. ‘No, he’s not my father.’ I growl at Gideon. I’m lying on the ground, looking up at the group of men and wolves with my oversensitive yellow eyes. “She doesn’t believe you’re her
I’ve never seen anything like Elle in wolf form. She’s a beautifully small, pure white wolf with a perfectly pale pink nose and blazing yellow eyes; instead of stumbling over her paws, she’s attacking with the ferocity of an enforcer with years of training. She’s been running for over twenty hours, and she’s still got enough strength to attack her father’s Beta like he’s nothing more than a speck of dust under her claws. Ghost looks like he’s about to pass out, and I’m not sure if it's exhaustion, worry that he’s surrounded by wolves he doesn’t know, or concern that I’m going to attack him for not stopping my mate before she sank her teeth into the Beta. “You’re not going to stop her?” Rusty asks me once my wolf has fully receded, I cross my arms over my chest and shake my head. “A tiny female just cut her pup out of her stomach and she’s just shifted for the first time, she needs to blow off some steam, can you’re Beta not handle it?” I arch my eyebrows at Rusty before turning back
I should feel clumsy like a puppy taking its first steps, but each time my paws hit the ground, I just feel more confidence; it's hard to explain, but running on four paws feels more natural than walking on two legs ever did. For the first time in my life I feel comfortable, like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be, and I have the added bonus of no longer being in pain. I can feel my muscles rippling with every jump and everytime I push my body to run faster. I can feel the wind ruffling my fur, and I can hear every tiny animal running from me as my imposing white body rushes through the landscape. I’m running faster than I ever could manage on two feet; it feels like I’m outside of the Pack in the blink of an eye, and I can tell because the scents change. Everything shifts from familiar and warm to something dark and sinister; I think I finally understand why the shifters seem so scared of the outside world. It smells gritty out here, like someone has scorched the earth and then pil
“Wake the fuck up.” I jerk awake as Rusty grabs me by the front of my shirt and practically drags me from the ground; his eyes are wide and his hair is standing on end, like he’s been running his hands through his hair. “What?” I snap as I push his hands off my chest. I’ve only just fallen asleep and I was hoping to have a few hours with Elle before it was time to get up and attack the Academy. "What's going on?” Low growls; his voice is heavy with sleep as he slowly wakes up, his eyes go as wide as Rusty’s when he sees us both standing so close that our chests are practically touching. He jumps to his feet so fast that he almost falls flat on his ass before finally getting his feet under him; the second he’s standing, he jumps between me and Rusty. “Back the fuck down, Beta." Rusty pushes Low aside like he’s nothing but an annoying pup; I don’t see the Winter Alpha’s fist coming until it's slamming into the side of my face. I roar in pain as I’m knocked to the ground, he might be
Pain. Unfiltered, raw and undeniably agonising pain. That's the first and only thing I become aware of as consciousness starts to seep back into me. I can feel someone touching me but each time their fingertips touch my skin, it feels like a hot poker being seared into my skin. “How the hell did this happen?” I recognise Desmond’s growl, which only causes me more pain, theres only one man I want right now and it's not the old man full of wisdom who walks around with his little cane that I’m almost certain he doesn’t need. “Someone put something in the food and knocked us all out cold; I barely even felt her call for help.” That's Ghost; he sounds panicked and I’m almost certain he sees my attack as his own failure, he’s supposed to protect me; it's literally his only job. Nothing could have stopped Seraphina, though. I’m trained to take down Alphas three times her size and strength but the second that knife pressed against my stomach, I froze; there was literally nothing I could do
I glance left and right to make sure I’m not being watched before pushing into the room. I’m not sure what I expected but even for a rest stop, this place is bare. A double bed with a ratty sheet, a mirror over a sink, a cracked toilet with no seat to protect me from the cold and a showerhead that'
I manage to get a few hours of sleep before the sun shining through the windscreen of my van becomes too much. The summer months are killing my bottom line; I’m being forced into finding shelter more and more, which is exposing me to the more seedy underbelly of our world. The nearest rest stop to
“Target eliminated. No witnesses. Leaving the area.” I speak into the little mic and the computer types out the message while I break down my gun. The man I just killed was the head of a major crime family; I need to get out of this area before his men realise where the shot came from. I’m not in a
“The Master and you – watch how you talk about him. He’s the one who delivered us back to the surface and organised the humans into the sectors so we have room to grow and thrive.” I repeat the line I’ve heard all my life: the collector doesn’t say anything; he knows what I’m capable of so I know h







