Chapter 2

Nadia

This had to be a mistake.

I glanced around the entryway, sure he was mistaken—that I was mistaken—that I was merely a body standing between him, his pointing finger, and the girl he truly meant to adopt.

But the foyer was empty, the few girls flittering in and out of the halls slipping up the steps without notice.

The man’s eyes didn’t follow them. They stayed on me. This had to be a mistake.

Cliff appeared just as shocked. He gaped at me from over the man’s shoulders, his face turning red, nose screwing up.

“Mr. Voss,” Cliff rushed, scrambling through the doorway to stand between us. “I can guarantee she’s not the one you’re looking for. She’s a troubled child. Violent! She’s been returned three times, deemed not a fit for foster care.” He scoffed. “Failure to thrive, failed placement, you name it. She’s no good, I can assure you.”

Mr. Voss appeared uninterested in the spew of words, but Cliff barreled on.

“Listen to this… When she was eight,” Cliff gave a huff, and a laugh rumbled between his chapped lips like a hiccup. “She was returned less than three weeks later. Three weeks!”

I ground my teeth together. Mr. Voss’s eyes were still on me, but I wanted nothing more than to shove forward and press my fingers back into the bruises on Cliff’s face. My eyes burned, nails digging into skin.

Three weeks.

Cliff said it like a joke, like it was laughable how short of a time it had been. But to me? Those three weeks had been a long, unbearable hell. Filled with a stepbrother who loved nothing more than to abuse me.

Cliff knew that. Of course he knew that. I’d sat right there in his office after those three weeks, hair jagged and cut, legs bruised and knuckles scabbed, but all he’d cared about was trying to wrestle an apology out of me for breaking that asshole’s arm.

He didn’t get one. I was too proud for that, too happy to finally have proof of how strong I was.

That was just the beginning.

Three months later, when I’d been tentatively placed with my first foster family, the man of that house began to sneak into my room at night. I’d felt him watching me while I slept, while I sat across him at the table during mealtimes.

When it went from just looking to him grazing his fingers along my back when we passed each other in the halls, I began to stop sleeping. I’d spend the night sitting with my back against the bedroom door, blankets pulled up over my head.

And when he eventually tried more, his body caging me against the banister, his hands fumbling with the zipper of his jeans, I shoved him. He’d tripped over his drooping pants and tumbled down the steps.

I was returned again after that. My actions were written into record, and after more various failed placements, I was deemed a violent, unwanted child. Left and discarded to these very orphanage halls.

Cliff, of course, didn’t waste any time telling Mr. Voss all of this, omitting the abuse and pedophilia.

Mr. Voss would be like all the other families who had heard the stories. He’d dismiss me with a disgusted sneer, shake hands with Cliff, and pick some other ‘princess’ to bring home with him.

I stared at the floor, waiting. “Enough.”

I flinched, but the word wasn’t directed toward me. Mr. Voss’s expression was cold and impatient. Cliff stuttered to a stop beside him, his jaw slack.

“I’m adopting her.” Mr. Voss spoke slowly, voice firm. “Start the adoption paperwork, and stop running your mouth. Unless you want me to do something about the way you run this place.”

Cliff balked at him before scrambling back into his office, muttering beneath his breath as he went.

Silence fell over the hall. Mr. Voss approached me, heavy boots thudding against hardwood. A strand of graying hair fell over his forehead, his eyebrows pinched as he came to stand over me.

“My name is Vincent Voss. From today on, you’ll be my daughter.”

I blinked up at him. His daughter? Just like that? I scoffed. The last thing I wanted was another father who could abuse or abandon me. Didn’t I get a say in this?

“Come,” he said.

He made his way to the door and tugged it open, waiting. I took a deep breath and shrugged my bag back over my shoulder.

This all felt… surreal. I didn’t think I’d be back here—getting adopted, being dragged into a new home by someone who seemed like he came from an entirely different world.

Outside, I paused on the driveway, suspicion pressing into my fluttering chest. “Why?”

Vincent stopped. “What?”

“Why?” I asked again. “Why me?”

“Because,” he sighed. “You’re a werewolf. Like me.” “I’m…” I trailed off, sure I was hearing things.

“Of course you don’t believe me. You’ve been lost in the human world for too long. But now, you need to accept your new identity.” He strode forward and grabbed my arm. “The pack values every offspring. They won’t allow a pup to be lost forever.”

He seemed serious, which was ridiculous. A werewolf? A pup?

Perhaps he was insane. Perhaps he was a human trafficker or a cult criminal. Why else would he want to adopt someone like me? Someone with such a ‘criminal record?’

I tugged my arm free. “Before we go, I need to use the bathroom.”

I couldn’t do this again. I couldn’t get mixed up with another family that only planned to use me in whatever ways they wanted.

I made it only a few steps up the drive before Vincent caught me. His hand clamped onto my shoulder and he spun me back around. I tried to form another excuse, but before I could, he backhanded me.

Blood pooled in my mouth. I gasped, squeezing my eyes shut, trying to blink away the darkness clouding in.

“You’re crazy!” I shouted. I yanked at his grip, trying to stumbled away, but Vincent held firm. He tugged me forward and threw me over his shoulders.

“You’re crazy.” The words slurred together. My head pounded, skull squeezing, thoughts lulling away. “You’re crazy…”

That was the last thing I said before falling unconscious.

I dreamt of warmth. Of a woman with deep brown hair and soft hands. I couldn’t see her face, but I could feel her breath as she whispered lullabies into the top of my head.

“You, my sweet girl, are the last princess of the country.” She rocked me against her chest. “Never forget.”

I woke with a start.

A headache rang through my temples. I pressed my head deeper into the headrest at my back, sunlight beaming in my eyes.

Vincent must have carried me to the car after he knocked me out. He sat beside me now, his hands tight on the steering wheel. The air smelt of fresh leather and vinyl.

“Where—” I pushed my spine straighter, the seatbelt tightening against my hips. “Where are you taking me?”

Panic flooded my cheeks. I had to get out somehow. I had to shove open the door and… jump. Maybe if I tucked my head, curled into myself as I threw myself out, I’d survive. It was worth a try. I couldn’t just go with him—

“Take a look.” Vincent nodded toward the door. Reluctantly, I turned toward the window.

My breath froze in my throat at the sight.

Wherever we were… it was far, far away from the orphanage.

I gaped, turning back to Vincent, a thought from earlier passing back through my crowded head.

An entirely different world.