Caught in a war between the vampires, dark elves, and werewolves, Amalea Ann Whitehouse finds herself housing warriors from nearly every pack. As a widow, she and her children make the best of things—and they're happy at their farm in the forest until tragedy strikes. Suddenly, shes expelled from her people and left accused of a murder she cant explain. Locked in a rival pack's prison, she must fight for her life, the lives of her loved ones, and her freedom as the rogue revolution begins.
View More“You can stay in my room!” Anna chirps as we come to a stop in front of a neon pink door. She swings it open to reveal an equally pink room. “I decorated it myself! It was one of the first spells Laumae taught me. She says I have an artist’s heart,” she continues proudly.“My room is next door, and Thomas is across the hall. There’s an empty room next to his for you. I wouldn’t stay in here if I were you. It looks like a pink elephant puked up Pepto,” Eric adds laughing. Anna gives him a death glare. “It does not! You’re just jealous you couldn’t figure out how to change your room!”He goes quiet and kicks a stuffed animal at his feet. Anna continues to show me all her treasures and triumphs oblivious to the nerve she’s struck in her brother. He continues to sulk for a bit before Anna mentions the training grounds, and he perks back up, tales of his newfound prowess with the bow and arrow pouring out of him.I soak up every word they say. Every expression they make. The way the light
Showered and in dry, clean clothes I feel much more like myself, albeit a far weaker version of myself. How long will it take to regain my strength I wonder? If I regain it. You certainly don’t hear tales of great rogue alphas in our histories. Is that because there are none, or because rogues don’t write history books? Time will tell.I eye the bed in the corner of the room. It’s strange to feel tired. Sleep has always been more of an optional pleasure for me than a necessity, but right about now, I feel as if I could sleep for a century. That would be one way to pass the time.Making my way over to the bed, I collapse really more than lie down, relieved to be off my feet, but just as I settle in and close my eyes, the door opens. Becca leans against the door frame with her hip. She doesn’t say anything at first, just watches me with her head cocked to the side. I sit up.“What?” I ask, trying not to let my annoyance show. I am her guest after all.“Just debating joining you in bed
The cold collision of my skin against rock jars me back into consciousness as the council guards walk away from me, leaving me in the mud with nothing but the echoes of their laughter. I knew this could happen. I just never believed it would.I push up out of the muck, trying to get a sense of where they’ve dumped me. Even that’s a struggle. I’ve never felt so weak, even when I was transitioning. Death hurt less than this. It’s as if a piece of every cell in my body has been violently ripped from me. It’s so quiet, startlingly alone, after feeling so many connections for so long.It’s no wonder there are so few rogue alphas. The few that survive the pack bonds breaking likely end things themselves just to escape the isolation. That won’t be me. I’m stronger than this. I can come back from this.The terrain is rocky here, and there’s a chill on the breeze, but no sounds of civilization. I’m not near a town. Mountain peaks peek over the trees around me. The road the guards brought me he
“Wait! Slow down!” I call out breathlessly to my strange guide as I struggle through the brush after him. I don’t know how far we’ve gone, but it feels like miles. Whatever I was dosed with may have worn off, but my body still feels foreign, like it belongs to someone else. Someone weak and slow. It doesn’t help that I have no shoes, and I’m constantly struggling to keep the cloak my guide gave me tied around me, but it is better than being naked.I nearly topple backward when he doubles back and pops up beside me—he certainly isn’t slow. “Have you seen others like me come from the mountain? Werewolves I mean? Two boys and a girl?” I ask, trying to distract myself from the creeping realization that I’ve now followed a fae creature deep into their wood. I’ve followed the enemy.He answers without hesitation—with an elvish stream of gibberish. I can’t understand him. His tone seems friendly at least. The confused look on my face as I try to puzzle out what he means must be clear because
My visit to the capital has gone a little differently this round. No luxury cars and comfortable accommodations, that’s for sure. Just cold dark walls and distrust. Worse, they’ve given me a cellmate this time—fucking Darius. Two days now, and he hasn’t said a word. He just sits there brooding. He’s plotting, I’m sure. That bastard is always plotting. His plotting got us into this. At least the council seems to view this matter with slightly more urgency than Alicia’s dramatic performance. We’re set to stand before them today. I still don’t know how I’m going to get out of this. Fuck, I still don’t understand what happened. All I know is it’s Darius’ doing somehow, and he’s got to pay. Thankfully, I’m not doomed to spend another awkward afternoon stuck in my cell. An omega gives us our daily bread and Darius gets his blood bag before a council agent escorts us to the meeting chamber. No one is working this time. All eyes are on us, and the looks we are getting are more than disappro
I can’t sense her anymore, but she can’t be dead. I felt her through the blood bond, followed our love all the way to a huge oak tree in the Dark Wood, but I couldn’t find her, and as dawn broke, I felt her move away before I lost her completely. I don’t understand any of this. Having fae blood explains her ability to shift into other animals, but not why I can’t feel her now. I can smell she was here. There’s an itch in my mind—something I used to know. Something familiar about her abilities. What have I been forced to forget, and what does it have to do with Amalea? It would take a powerful witch to cast an enchantment like this. To erase something from reality? That’s not child’s play. It’s not something that would be done on a whim or could be done by just anyone. It would have a price. Clouds gather overhead, casting a gloom over the forest as it begins to rain. I don’t want to, but I need to leave. I won’t figure out anything just sitting under this tree. I’ve been here for ho
It’s soft. Where—where am I? I should be dead. I try to open my eyes, but they feel heavy. I feel heavy, sleepy, distant from myself, like—I can’t think straight. My thoughts run from me, confuse me. Why is it soft? I can feel it all around me, against my skin, cradling me. Naked—I’m naked. Why? They hung me.I should be dead. It smells like soil, like earth, like home. Am I dead? Am I home? I have to open my eyes. Open. It takes all my strength, but slowly the world fades into view. Moss. The moss is soft. I’m below a tree, an oak tree.The realization sends a shot of sobering adrenaline through me, and my mind emerges from the haze—it’s not just any oak tree. It’s our oak tree! I’m laying at the tunnel entrance, but how did I get here? Who brought me here? Why am I naked? Why can’t I move?I try to wiggle my fingers, but they won’t budge, and my eyes flutter closed from the effort. My tears fall anyway. Who cares how I got here? I’m alive, and I’m home. I just need to sleep whatever
I can’t even look at her. I know if I do, I won’t be able to go through with this. Even if this isn’t a real execution. Fuck, even if she really does hate me—wants that asshole instead—she shouldn’t have to go through this. I can feel every step she takes. Her anger, confusion, hurt, fear, and now calm. She’s letting go. I just hope that I can bring her back.“The bag,” I manage, trying to keep my voice steady as I glance up at her—and that’s when I know. I feel it. A surge of defiance. I should have known her calm was just the eye of the storm. A smile plays across her perfect lips as she jumps off the platform before Jackson can put the bag over her head.She seems to fall in slow motion as I watch my world end. The council member will know. He’ll know she isn’t dead. He’ll know I tried to defy the council’s orders. They’ll kill her anyway, and me too maybe, if they don’t expel the pack from the alliance or both.I hear her bones snap, breaking me from my trance, but not at the end
I’ve had a lot of time to think—too much maybe. I wish that I had more time for so many things, but thinking isn’t one of them. The more I think about how I got here, about all the things that have been done to me, the angrier I get. Angry that I won’t get to do all the things I wanted in my life. That I won’t ever get to see my children again, to know if they’re alright, to see the people they’ll grow to be, to say goodbye. I’m angry that my own people put me here. That the leaders we chose to protect us built a system that uses us as fuel to create power for a few, for them. That I can’t do anything to change it, make it a better place for my children, for Liza, for everyone I love. That I’m letting them all down.“You didn’t eat your breakfast,” James muses beside me. I don’t need the mate bond to know he’s worried about me and that makes me even angrier. I hate him for putting his mark on me, for forcing fate on me, for being here right now instead of Darius.“I’m ready,” I repea
I close my eyes. Let the sun fade my field of vision to a warm, red glow. Feel the heat on my skin. It's a perfect day. Not too warm, not too cold. The birds are singing a song of spring. A gentle breeze wafts campfire smoke, pollen kisses, and promises of tomorrow my way while the swaying of the trees lulls me into a sense of calm. If I focus on it, it almost drowns out the crowd's cheers and taunts, excited for my hanging. It's a perfect day to die. "Amalea Ann Whitehouse, you stand here before the eyes of your alpha and pack condemned to hang on the charges of treason, murder, and arson. Would you like to speak your peace?" The jailer drones on. There are a lot of things I'd like to say to these bastards, but they don't deserve it. They're not worth it. "I am at peace." That's all they get. I open my eyes. Look at the town I once called home. The pack I once called family. The man I thought I might have loved. How did I get here? Standing on the edge of a platform in rags, covere...
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