Chapter Two

Blake

My mom was transferred to another room after the alpha found out I saw her, he torture my mom and wanted to do it in a way only Him can enjoy. I had to get my mother out of this pack, she doesn't deserve this. The thought sat on my chest As a heavy burden.

News was also going round the pacl that the two remaining sons of the alpha would be returning today, and something about that made me feel uneasy. Because meeting just the two of my stepbrothers made me me feel a draw I couldn't explain

My wolf was weak. At least, that's what everyone said. So why did my chest tighten when shawn and Gaige walked into a room? Why did I feel drawn to them in a way I couldn't explain? I just hoped it wouldn't be the same feel with the remaining two. I felt so much pressure I just wanted to get my mom and leave this pack.

My phone then buzzed, I exhaled slowly and reached for the phone, hoping to get any good news on my explain plan.

And it was

A notification from Mary, my art instructor. I had a meeting with her today.

The feeling that moved through me at that reminder was the closest thing to relief I had felt since arriving here. Art was my passion and the only thing in my life that had consistently kept me moving forward through everything. But it was not just passion anymore. It had quietly become my only real plan to save my mom.

An art contest had been announced, and the winner would receive a sponsored visa to work in Canada. It was exactly what I needed. When I won, I would use that visa to get my mom out of this pack quietly, and nobody inside these walls would know where we had gone.

I knew it was It wasn't advisable for a young wolf like me, who had spent her entire life within a pack, to travel to Canada a human land with a sick mother. But it seemed like the only way they wouldn't trace me

It was so important that winning was not optional. I had not told a single person about it because I could not afford for anything to go wrong.

Mary's text confirmed that my application had been approved. I was officially entered in the competition and the registration was taking place today at two in the afternoon.

I looked at the flyer one more time. Visa to work in Canada. I tucked it into the waistband of my jeans and headed to my room to get ready.

In minutes I was dressed. My long black hair fell freely across my shoulders in the way that always made me feel like I meant business. My dress hugged my figure and showed every curve underneath it. I slung my bag over one shoulder and applied my red lipstick with the other hand. My throat felt a little dry so I stopped by the kitchen for a glass of water before heading out.

I pushed the door open and immediately went still.

A tall figure sat across the kitchen, and the moment our eyes met his scent hit me first, sharp and unfamiliar, and I had to work very hard to keep my expression composed.

He looked me over slowly before a deliberate smile settled on his lips.

"You must be Blake," he said in a low voice, and I realised immediately that he was one of Cody's sons. Cody had mentioned his remaining sons would be arriving back at the pack house today, and this had to be Mason, the third. From what I had already seen of Gaige and Shawn, Mason was the one built most like someone who had never lost a fight, the kind of muscle that came from someone who shifted often.

I swallowed and tried not to let anything show on my face.

"Hi. I just came to get a glass of water," I said.

He nodded, and I stepped in. Before I could reach for a cup he grabbed my arm and pressed me back against the wall. My mind had not caught up with any of it as I looked up at him. He moved his face close to my hair, breathing in like he was memorizing my scent, and his fingers traced slowly along my jaw.

"What are you doing?" I barely got the words out. His presence was already pressing the air out of the room.

"This is my way," he said in that low voice, "of saying welcome."

Before I could react, his hands moved across my body in a way that made every nerve in me fire at once, and beneath it was something deeper, a pull I did not understand, like my body recognized him on some level my mind refused to. He slid his hands into my gown, squeezing my breast in a way that made me moan, and he did not stop there, trailing down and rubbing my already hard nipples. I wanted to push him away. My body had a completely different response. I stood there caught between resistance and pleasure, and he kept going, watching my face with that slow, deliberate expression.

"You want more?" he asked. My mouth had no reasonable answer.

Before I could form one he lifted me onto the counter, stepped between my knees and spread them apart. His hands were soft on my lap, slowly trailing down my gown. I bit my lower lip trying not to moan loudly. I tried to hold onto resistance but it kept slipping from me, and he knew it from the way he watched my face.

Then he stopped. He pulled back with a calm smile and left me sitting there gathering myself, pulling my dress back into order with unsteady hands and breathing harder than I would have liked to admit.

"You ruined our pack," he said, the warmth completely gone from his voice now. "And I will ruin yours by making you my plaything." There it was. Under all of it was the same rage the others carried. They all believed my mom was responsible for their Luna's death, and Mason had apparently decided the best way to punish her was through me.

"I will be seeing you around, sister." He walked out, leaving me in a complete state.

I shook myself off and remembered I was running late. I straightened up, grabbed my bag and walked out as though none of that had just happened.

I arrived at the venue a short while later, still pushing the encounter out of my mind. I held my bag close as I walked inside.

I needed to register and I needed to win. It was the only exit left for me and my mom from that pack house and everything happening inside it. I had not breathed a word of this plan to anyone.

The moment I stepped in, Mary spotted me immediately.

"Blake! It is so good to see you." She pulled me into a hug.

"Am I late?" I asked, already anxious.

"A little. But it is fine, come on." She pulled me forward and walked me through the space, complimenting my work and telling me the judges had already been asking about my portfolio.

Registration time came and I was ready. I could almost feel it already, the visa, the flight, Canada, my mom finally free from all of it. Everything I had been working toward came down to the signature I was about to make.

I picked up the pen and bent over the form, and then the papers were snatched clean out from under my hand.

I straightened and turned around.

Shawn. And behind him, a man I did not recognise, broad enough to be pack muscle, standing guard.

"Shawn?"

"Do not ask me how I found you. I could smell you a mile off. We are leaving," he said, already reaching for my arm. I pulled away and grabbed for the papers, desperate to get the signature down before he could stop me. He got there first and tore them in half.

My heart dropped completely.

"What are you doing?" I snapped at him.

"Getting you out of here. You are a member of this pack now, and a member of the Evans family. You are not permitted to be in places like this without an escort." He dragged me toward the exit and before I could process what was happening, the man behind him raised a gun and shot one of the people who had tried to step in to help me. The venue erupted in chaos and people scattered in every direction.

Every eye in the room turned toward me like I was the one responsible.

My only way out of this nightmare had just collapsed in front of me.