The Alpha's Prickly Porcupine
The wind screams around us, a lonely, mournful sound, and as the cold of the high altitude bites into my skin, I realize that I am not just leaving my home behind bI am leaving the girl I was.
The Alpha of the Silverfangs, the man who engineered my ruin, is now the only thing keeping me aloft in this terrifying, darkening world. I tuck the diary deeper into my tunic, my heart beating a slow, steady rhythm of rebellion against the man whose back I am pressed against. I am his, on paper, by contract, and by blood, but I am not his in spirit. Not yet. And as we bank sharply toward the horizon, I begin to plan for a future he never intended me to have.