LOGIN"I was raised as a weapon, crafted into the perfect steel. I'm made of sharp edges and vengeance, and I will not crumble. " What would you be willing to lose to be free? For years, Audrey waited for the perfect chance to leave the compound and escape from the hybrid's torture. Born and raised as a warrior, being able to fight is both her blessing and her curse and the only thing keeping her alive. After years of imprisonment, she returns to her family, who had long given up on hope, but freedom is nothing but an illusion. Audrey is forced to battle against her prejudice, fears, and her own gruesome past to become whole once again. With the soon-to-be Alpha Devin defying her at every turn, and the unexplainable bond she feels with Ryan closing in, Audrey must choose between destiny and her own free will. With the hybrid's threat always hovering over her head, she must find the Alpha that betrayed the Council, even if it means destroying the system altogether. But the path is tricky; unsure who to trust, she has to travel alone and unravel the Alphas' darkest secrets. Her failure means death or worse- her capture.
View MoreThe hours pass by incredibly slow as we attempt to deal with all the bagagge that just landed in our laps. So, we do everything we can to minimize the collateral damage. We talk, we walk, and we pretend that the world isn't falling apart right beneath our feet. We fall into a dependent rotine, concerned that even the slightest detour could send us reeling into the somber pit we barely escaped of. When my phone buzzes in the middle of the second night, disrupting the quiet of our small hotel room, I all but jump to it, because there's only one person that would try to text me.Can you come downstairs?I frown. What is Devin doing here so early? Something must be seriously wrong. My heart kickstarts in my chest. I look at my mother's sleeping form once before I push the sheets back from my body, and rapidly tip toe to the exit. I close the door as softly as I can, but I'm already anxious, torn between launching myself into a stream of apologies or questions. I fly by the empty, bare
The walk to the hotel is a blur. So much so that I have no idea how my mother achieved it. She calls someone as soon as we arrive- my father, no doubt. The word 'therapist' is repeated often, but I'm in no condition to resist. The air in the room is pungent with crippling dread, and awkward silence. Nothing I can say can fill the empty void, and it all seems useless. If the cemetery is any proof, it just showed that I can't deal with my past. Any of it. And it's finally catching up to me. What a mess. My mother gets us a few sandwiches for lunch, and I attempt a smile. I don't think I could handle leaving this room, even if I wanted to. She cleans the superficial wounds I created while scratching my back, and we fall back into silence.We sit side by side on the single bed, reeling from the entire experience. It seems like hours before my mother breaks the silence. "How are you feeling?" She asks timidly, and I want to punish myself for making her uncomfortable around me, for push
"What happened at the station?" My mother asks, abruptly rescuing me from my wandering mind. We walk through the empty streets on our way to the cemetery side by side. The air is filled with tension and dread, mostly mine. "Nothing," I reply quickly. She turns to me and gives me the look. The one that says that I'm not fooling her. "It's a bad day," I justify. I can't see she's not happy, but she doesn't force me to say anything else. And all too soon we reach the black iron gates. My steps falter as my heart gallops straight to my throat. "We don't have to do this now. We can come back another time," my mother says noticing my hesitation.I shake my head vehemently. "Let's go," I say with no determination. We navigate through the cemetery, each step weighing more than the previous, my blood rushing, my eyes burning, my breaths shallow, and then... then I find them. The sight brings me to my knees in front of them. My mother attempts to grab me, but I'm in a distant world, so
By the time we hit the road, I'm convinced my heart has finally and utterly given up. My mind swirls around the kiss I shared with Devin, trying- and failing- to make sense of what exactly happened back in my room. Does this change things between us? Does it have to? Still, it's a welcoming distraction from the overwhelming and all-consuming anxiety creeping steadily on me. My mom drives while Devin cheerfully chats away with her from the passenger seat. There's a boyish grin plastered on his face, threatening to split his lips, something that wasn't there this morning. It's strangely fascinating how at ease with each other they seem to be, how the conversation just flows. I can only hope one day to have the same ability. To walk without my ghost's weight crushing me or to endure it as they do. How do they do it? Every so often, Devin glances back at me and smiles with abandon. I know this is just a ruse, a trick to stray his conscience away from the lingering worry. Worry for






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