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Chapter Thirteen

Ryder

Alexandra's protests fall on deaf ears. Dad's right. Making her a member of the pack is the easiest way to protect her from another gang. That would mean she belongs to us. They can't demand we hand her over. I still have no idea who Alex ran from or what gang we're dealing with but if dad's worrying about it, it can't be good.

"Fuck no!" Alex shouts as she shoots off the bar stool and backs away from us shaking her head in disbelief. "You can't honestly be considering this? I won't do it! You can't make me!"

"Don't be so stubborn girl. It's for your own protection or would you like to be handed over to him?" father snaps at her.

She huffs out a cold laugh. The sound is broken and tired. I can see it in her eyes. She's so tired. My beautiful angels' wings are broken. She's forgotten what it feels like to fly. Because he locked her in a too small cage where her wings grew until they broke against the bars.

"You're crazy if you think a tattoo will make him give up. He'll wage war
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