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The air was thick with tension as Archer and I pulled up to the address Caleb had given us—Blackthorn Street, number 48.My stomach churned with unease.The building loomed like a forgotten relic, its paint peeling and windows clouded with grime. It reeked of desperation, a place for people who had nowhere left to run.“This is it,” Archer said, his voice clipped as he swung off his bike.I followed him to the door, my pulse hammering in my ears.Every fiber of me screamed to turn around, to pull him back and tell him this wasn’t the way. But the fire in his eyes kept me moving forward.We climbed the narrow staircase to the second floor, the wood creaking beneath our weight. The door to Damien’s unit was ajar, hanging loose on its hinges.Archer didn’t hesitate. He pushed it open, and the stench hit me like a wave.The room was a mess—a chaotic mix of half-empty bottles, crumpled cigarette packs, and food containers spilling onto the floor.The walls were stained with grime, and the
Archer is back.Even thinking those words fills me with a strange feeling I can’t quite suppress.“I love you, Katrina,” he whispered, locking his lips on mine.“I love you too, Archer,” I whispered back, smiling ear to ear as he gave me his helmet.“Where are we going?” I asked, my brows furrowing as he hopped on his bike.“We’ll go to a date.”The bar is alive with energy when we arrive. Archer walks beside me, his broad shoulders cutting through the crowd like a ship parting waves.I can feel the stares, the whispers trailing behind us like smoke. His presence demands attention, and I can’t help but steal glances at him.“So, this is where the fun happens?” I tease, nudging him lightly.Archer smirks, the corner of his mouth lifting just enough to send a shiver down my spine. “Fun’s wherever we want it to be.”We settle at a table with his friends, a rowdy but oddly welcoming group. Laughter and banter fill the air, but it’s clear Archer is the centerpiece of the evening.Then some
Katrina.“They wouldn’t just leave. They wouldn’t…” Archer’s voice was barely audible, as if he couldn’t quite believe the words himself. His eyes were fixed ahead, lost in thoughts I couldn’t reach.I stepped closer, trying to offer some comfort, but he moved away, the distance between us growing. “I need to go and see our house,” he muttered, his voice strained.“I’ll go with you,” I said softly, knowing he didn’t have to face this alone.The drive to the Madsun Pack was heavy with silence. Archer sat beside me, stiff, his gaze locked on the passing trees but seeing none of them. I wanted to say something, but the weight of his past hung too thick between us.When we arrived, the house looked like it had been forgotten by time. Rusted metal lined the once-sturdy fence, and weeds choked the front yard. The windows, now dark and cracked, seemed to stare at us like empty eyes. I felt a chill crawl up my spine. Archer’s steps faltered as we approached, his breath coming in short, uneve
The thumbs-up from Katrina made me feel like I could breathe again, even in a place like this. It was such a small thing, really, but damn, it was like she was telling me without words, "You've got this." I smiled—couldn’t help it—and gave her a quick nod before the guards led me back inside. The sound of the doors slamming shut behind me was usually like nails in my brain, but today? Today, it didn’t feel as heavy.The cafeteria was its usual mess of noise and clattering trays. I grabbed my food—if you could call it that—and found a seat. Barely a minute in, and Lucifer leaned over, grinning like he’d just won the lottery.“Wow, your lawyer looks young and she’s good at handling your case! I’m so envious of you!”I chuckled, shaking my head, but before I could say anything, another guy, Damon, piped up.“I heard she’s the one who paid off the rest of your fees too. Must be nice, huh?”“Yeah, guess I got lucky.” I tried to sound casual, but it was more than luck. That girl really c
Archer.Years rotting in prison had changed me. The first week tasted like hell. I’d heard the rumors—living with real criminals wouldn’t be easy, and they were right. The moment they found out my sentence had been reduced to ten years, it became a game of survival.They didn’t like it. They didn’t like me.I was always trapped in some dark, secluded corner. The punches came in waves, followed by bruises so deep they felt permanent. My body almost gave out after my regular trips in and out of the prison clinic. That was the first few weeks, though—back when I still cared about my fate.But now? Now they treated me like a king. After I killed their Alpha in a duel, no one dared to touch me. Respect came swift, like blood flowing from a fresh wound.No one visited me, though. Not once. Trial after trial, I waited, hoping—maybe—Alpha Steven or Damien would come, give me a chance to break their faces, even for a moment. Just once.So when the guard stopped by, face hidden under his robe
“Let me explain myself, Katrina!” I stared at Damien, my chest tight with anger, disbelief swirling in my head. He was kneeling in front of me, like that would fix everything. Like his regret would magically erase the hell he put Archer through.“It was my fault!" Damien's voice cracked. "I let my father do it because it’s for my welfare! I know it was selfish to put Archer in prison instead of me.”My heart pounded. He looked at me like he was about to shatter, but I didn’t care. My blood boiled. Archer had suffered because of this—because of him."I took advantage of our similar face and body!" he confessed, his words spilling out in desperation. "But you know what’s more fucked up?! That fucking bastard is my brother! He’s my father’s missing biological son, Katrina. We’re twins!”I froze. My brain couldn’t process what he was saying fast enough. "What...?" My voice barely came out as a whisper. "Archer is... what?"“Alpha Steven’s son. My twin,” he repeated, his head hanging low







