“It all started when I was eight,” Clay begins. He leans against the stone wall across from me and folds his arms. “My parents decided to begin successor training for my brother and I. Being the eldest twin, I believed that I alone would be trained to become alpha. It is my birthright, after all. However, my parents believed that the twin who showed greater promise as a ‘leader’ would step into the position of alpha while the other brother supported him.” Clay leans his head back against the wall. “During the main classes we displayed our aptitude for different skills. My brother was good at written skills, so his grades were always the best. He read books all of the time and my parents always praised him for his great ideas. I, on the other hand, specialized in physical skills. Where my brother was good at reading, I was good at fighting. My parents didn’t appreciate this whatsoever. They always complained that my grades were too low and that I should focus more on studying
Rough hands brush over my legs. My eyes fly open and I immediately fling them off only to find myself face to face with Clay. "What are you doing?!" I growl. "Calm down," Clay orders. "I will not calm down!" I reply indignantly. "How dare you touch me. Especially while I amsleeping." "What do you mean 'how dare I'?" Clay replies. "You are mine. I can do whatever I want to with you and you have no say in the matter." His eyes are wide and look around wildly, as if seeing an imaginary opponent. "I am not yours," I refute. "I don't belong to anyone." "You are mine," Clay repeats. He closes the distance between us and reaches for my legs once more. "It's time for me to get what I want," he says as he touches my shin. I kick his arm away and he lets out a stream of curses as he cradles it. "That hurts, you know. I wanted to do this properly and keep you awake, but if you are just going to fight me, I'll have to put you to sleep." Clay reache
The feeling of something hitting my leg jolts me back to consciousness. I jerk my head upright and look around me. When I closed my eyes earlier, I must have fallen back asleep. Now, three men stand above me. They all have black hair and sunken eyes. The horrible stench that fills the air around them tells me that they are rogues. The one kicking me stops when he sees that I am awake. "Finally," he grumbles. "Boss said to feed you before we move." As he finishes speaking, one of the other men drops a plate wrapped in cling film on the ground in front of me. "Hurry up and eat, we leave in ten minutes," the first man informs me. As the three turn to leave I clear my throat. "I can't eat with my hands secured behind my back," I state. The three growl, but one comes over to loosen the chain around my hands. The slack allows me to slip my arms under my butt. I ease them slowly as I feel the tight pull of my muscles threatening to dislocate my shoulder at the slightest
The man carrying me set me down on a soft surface. I can feel myself sinking into something plush. The man’s presence disappears from above me and the swish of the flap tells me that he has left the tent. I lie still for a few moments listening to the sound of rustling papers. Then, I open my eyes and sit up. I look in the direction that the sound was coming from and see Clay staring at me. His eyes are open wide and his mouth hangs slightly agape. Clay is sitting behind a table covered in papers. I find that I am lower to the ground than I had previously thought. He towers above just by sitting at his desk. A quick glance around myself reveals that I am surrounded by plush pillows and blankets. It seems like a bed. The only other piece of furniture is a large trunk that sits along the tent wall opposite of me. "How...," Clay starts to say, but falls silent. "Did you think that little drug of yours would always work?" I ask. "It should've," he replies. His han
The tent flap swooshes quietly as it falls into place behind me. I can’t see anyone nearby, but remain on high alert. If I encounter just one guard, I may never make it out of the camp. That guard could send out a warning that I have escaped and the fact that I am carrying Clay’s body would only make it worse. I peek around the right corner of the tent. Nobody. Coast is clear. I move quickly along the side of the tent. Clay’s tent appears to be at the center of the camp and is given a pretty wide berth by the other tents. Hearing voices, I slip into a narrow corridor between the tents that border Clay’s. The rustle of his body brushing against the canvas nearly makes my heart stop. The sound seemed so loud that I thought I would be caught for sure. Thankfully, the men don’t notice and just walk past, not even glancing in my direction. According to the map, Clay doesn’t have personal guards at his tent, but prefers to have them in a wide circle around his tent and his genera
Running through the woods is difficult when you are carrying something that keeps snagging on every tree branch. Every couple of steps, I find myself having to remove the branch that got caught on Clay's clothes. At the rate I’m going, I just might make it to camp by the time the battle ends in a couple of hours. After what feels like the umpteenth millionth time, I decide to walk closer to the edge of the forest, where the branches aren't as thick. The one reason that I stayed deep within the forest was so I could avoid running into any enemies. Now, I don't care if I run into a rogue. I just don't want to have to stop anymore. Dead branches snap and crackle under my feet and leaves rustle as I brush past, pushing my way to the edge of the tree line. With a quick glance around, I ensure that no one is paying attention to me. Seeing no one approaching and hearing no one shouting at me, I launch into a sprint. My feet fly across the ground. By leaving the woods behind, I have
The flap swings shut behind me as I leave the tent. Nobody is paying much attention to me, so I have no trouble making my way to the front of the camp. Standing just inside the first row of tents, I survey the battlefield. Werewolves cover the large field, locked in a fierce battle. As I watch, many fall to the ground either dead or wounded. Knowing Tyler, he's probably near the front of that mess. He'd want to try to save me himself and thus would lead the charge. If I want to find him, I'll need to make my way to him. I break free from the line of tents and start walking towards the ongoing fight. To an outside viewer, I must look very odd as I calmly walk towards a massive, bloody battle. With each step, my heart beats a little louder in my ears as adrenaline fills me. By the time I have walked close enough to make out the difference in scents, I am on edge, anticipating when I will be attacked and join the fight. I'm only a couple of yards away when the first wolf rushe
With Tyler clinging to my back, I leap into the air. Wind rushes past as I soar over the wolves, searching. My feet thud as I land and my nose twitches. I jump to the left, still not finding the scent that I want. A couple more jumps and I finally find who I am searching for, Cole. He stands a couple of yards away from me, fighting some wolves. He, too, is wounded, but not as badly as Tyler. As I close the distance between us, Cole seems to notice my scent because he turns his head to stare at me. Seeing Cole distracted, one of the wolves tries to attack, but I catch it by a leg and toss it away. Enar, are you able to talk to Cole's wolf? I ask. Yes, what should I tell him? She replies. Please tell him to take Tyler back to the camp for medical attention. I will take care of everything here. Alright. As I wait for Enar's response, I throw away some more of the pesky wolves. They just don't know when to stop. Cole also swats away our opponents. We remain that w