LOGIN“I don’t understand,” I say, looking between the two shapes bathed in shadow. “You guys were here the entire time?”“Yep,” the male answers.“Why didn’t you say anything when I was yelling my lungs out?”“We figured you were still getting settled. Didn’t want to disturb you.”I glare at his cell, even though I know he probably can’t see me through the darkness.The female, who I’m now mentally calling Creepy Psychic, doesn’t say anything. She’s been quiet the entire time I’ve been talking to Captain Commentary. I get the feeling she doesn’t like talking much. Except when it’s to terrorize unsuspecting souls.“Are we the only ones in this aisle?” I ask, noting that no other presence has made itself known since Captain Commentary started narrating my existence.“No. Just us. This aisle’s for the really, really bad guys.” He pauses thoughtfully. “I guess trying to murder an Alpha counts as really, really bad.”“Can you stop bringing that up?”“Nope.”I sigh.“I’m curious. It’s the most i
My thoughts refuse to calm as I lower myself onto the rough floor of my cell.I wonder if I’ll be summoned anytime soon. They can’t possibly leave me here forever. I’d have to be tried by the Alpha, before the were council.I wonder what would happen to Cole. He didn’t know anything about my plan, but he’d be considered an accomplice because he tried to help me escape. And there’s the fact that he is the Gamma.He betrayed the pack for me.“You’re thinking too loudly.”The voice cuts through me. Low.Low but certain.My body reacts before my mind does.I freeze.Not fully at first.I turn towards the direction of those words.Then I freeze completely.I’m not alone.Bars. Shadows. Stillness.And then—A shape.I hadn’t noticed it before.I should have.All this while, I couldn’t have been alone. Because voices do not grow out of stone walls.I study the cell closely, my throat tightening. I don’t speak. Not because I choose not to. But because something in me refuses to.A pause stret
Goddess, my face hurts.The air is thick with the smell of earth and rusted metal.I turn my head, trying to adjust my position, but regret it almost immediately.Pain shoots through my skull. Heavy. Unforgiving.My head throbs, each pulse sharp enough to blur the edges of my vision. The world tilts—not enough to knock me down, just enough to make everything feel slightly off, like I’m walking inside someone else’s body.I have no idea how long I’ve been here. I woke to a searing pain in my skull and my wrists bound in metal.I had called out for someone. Anyone.It was more an act of defiance than strategy.I was answered with silence.The cuffs clink when I move, a small, humiliating sound that echoes louder than the pounding in my head.The metal bites—cold, heavy, unforgiving against my skin.They sit right against my pulse, and every beat drives the metal deeper into my wrists, a dull, persistent ache that refuses to be ignored.I straighten anyway.I refuse to look weak.I refus
I write a letter addressed to Mum and then one to Talia. I hand it to Sandy, who eyes the paper like it’s a live grenade. Her fingers hover over it before she takes it, slow and reluctant.I offer a weak smile. “Thank you for all your help, Sandy. I owe you.”She snorts, barely hiding her scowl. “You bet you do. But I don’t see any way of you paying up, so you might as well be on your way.”I turn toward the door, resigned. There’s no friendship here—not when I’m putting Cole’s life at risk.“Mia.”I freeze, hand on the door handle, and glance over my shoulder.“Be careful,” she says, her tone softer now. “And don’t let Cole get into too much trouble. Some trouble’s okay… but not too much.”I return her smile. “I won’t.”She nods, exhales a long, measured breath, and waves me off.Outside, Cole is already pulling the car out of the shadows. It isn’t his usual vehicle. A rare, unassuming one—perfect for tonight.I slide into the passenger seat, heart hammering.“Seatbelts,” Cole instru
“Mia?” Someone is saying my name. I don’t know who. The corridor tilts. I think I’m falling. No. I am falling. Strong hands band around me before I hit the ground. I’m pulled flush against a solid chest. The world stops spinning only because he holds it still. “Mia,” the familiar voice says again, sharper now. Worried. “Cole?” My voice barely forms the name. “Yes. It’s me.” He shifts, bracing me fully against him. One arm around my back. The other steady at my waist. “What happened to you?” “They’re coming for me,” I whisper into his shirt. The words scrape out of me. Shrill. Unfamiliar. “Who?” His grip tightens. “Why?” “Everyone,” I breathe. “I just tried to kill their Alpha.” The confession hangs between us like a dropped blade. For half a heartbeat, he goes completely still. Then he moves. One arm slides beneath my knees. The other braces my back. He lifts me effortlessly. The motion jolts the pain beneath my ribs and I gasp, fingers fisting
I’m not sure when I send the blade flying, but in one second my hand is empty. I vaguely hear the sound of metal cutting through the air. In the next second, It slices through candlelight, haze and history. Then— Impact. Not the clean, hollow plunge I rehearsed a hundred times in my head. There’s resistance. A sickening scrape. Metal meeting flesh, then bone. A sharp, strangled inhale. The blade does not sink where it should. It does not reach his heart. It lands lower. And Damon does not fall. I have played this moment in my head far too many times for it to be healthy. He always falls in my imagination. Clutching his chest as blood spurts out. I don't have enough time to investigate anything. I run. Not a graceful retreat. Not calculated. Run. My body moves before my mind catches up. Soon I'm out of the hallway and back into the crowded hall. I maneuver my way through the people, trying to get myself as far away from Damon as possible. The h
The three days pass in a blur of motion, voices, and tears. I stare at the midnight blue, knee-length dress laid carefully across the bed and try not to think about anything except the fabric. The halter neckline. The almost nonexistent sleeves. The way the blue catches the sunlight and shines wh
He sees my fist coming. I know he does. He doesn't move. My fist connects with his jaw. His head jerks sideways, but he doesn’t flinch beyond the motion of the hit or retaliate. Just watches me, calm, almost too calm. I strike again, harder this time. A blow to the chest. He rocks backward, b
I gasp.Dad's cheek is swollen. One eye rimmed dark. There’s a bruise spreading along his jaw like spilled ink. His lip is split. Dried blood stains the collar of his shirt.But it’s his expression that steals the air from my lungs.Not anger.Not calculation.Not even fear.Resignation.“It’s no u
Before the pack guards can find us and drag us to Goddess knows where, I get Talia out of the house. We don’t use the front door. That'd be foolish. I keep to the back corridors, listening for boots, for voices, for the scrape of authority moving through the house. Talia clings to my hand, sile







