I give it a week of desperate, pointless searching before heading back to Alpha Cillian. For someone so organised, I’m turning into a mess. I forget to eat. Walking, exploring all day for the slightest trace of Zena before crashing out. Theh I dream of her quietly shuddering, alone in the caves.Except this time, no matter how hard I scream or hit the cave walls, she can not hear me. I frequently wake up having punched the ground. Worse, I flailed into the dying embers of the fire. That one really hurt.The mark she gifted me remains active. The only way I know she hasn’t been killed is the fact that when I touch it, which is almost constantly, I can feel the warmth of her love for me. Whatever has happened, I know that her heart was mine that night. I had to bribe with everything I had just to get directions to her Fate coven. Weaving my way through endless cornfields, I was ready to head back and strangle the goatherd who gave me directions when I came across a collection of tiny,

Taking Freya through to Rising Star without Zeke calling my bluff was hellish. Freya had already called my bluff, demanding to know why I wanted to take these risks. "Because I think someone I love is being held there." It's the truth. Of sorts. Everything is to get back to Zena. The clock is ticking down on me at White Forest. Nikolai is sure to want me back or a good excuse why I'm not trying hard enough to deserve a spot by his side. Saving Alpha Alexander on the waterfront bought me time, but not immunity. Freya was placated, then I had to ride out the blatant resentment from Zeke. Leather jacket, scowling prick. He hated me the instant I strode in to spoilt their romantic little moment. Well sorry, some things are more important than his dick. I'm helping to rebuild a pack. Potentially. Who knows perhaps Freya might kill Phillipe, maybe I'll be a hero for enabling the end of the war. As long as I successfully kill a boatload of people who know I'm full of shit. Including the

This isn’t the Maddox I left back at White Forest a couple of months ago. I remember thinking he was turning a bit creepy for grabbing my dirty panties as a souvenir. It was over, done. I'd made that painfully clear surely?The days I am conscious, it is taking every ounce of control I have not to blow up at him. I keep my head because I know the only way I’m getting out of these silver chains is through him releasing me. Of course, when I woke up the first time, after he got me out of that cell, with a monster hangover headache and the world's driest mouth, I assumed it was exhaustion. I woke with a retching start, laid on a sagging, ancient bed, holding my temples. This abandoned wreck of a manor house still had some running water, albeit a funky brown colour. I had a shower, dressed, and then headed to find Maddox.He was messing about with his rucksack and supplies, dropping it to the floor with an echoing clang when he saw me. I'm not going to blame myself for not guessing he

I’m speechless. So perfectly, happily, contentedly dumbstruck. Being in his arms is like landing in heaven itself. I’m safe, warm, loved, and the feeling grows, spreading through my veins like ivy. Replacing his mark was pure bliss. Despite the utter disaster of this situation, my whole body pulsed with desire for him, pushing myself against his body. Sybil rioted with unbridled joy, as if all the constant healing from silver never slowed her. My poor wolf has been through so much, yet she still made my body burn from head to toe at the sight of Briss. The only issue now is that I remain shackled to the floor like an animal. When my collarbone stopped bleeding, Briss took a trembling step backwards, his irises the most intense lilac. I wince when I realise he is covered in burning red lines down his forearms where the silver branded him. He doesn't mention my pitiful state. He just gives me another, more tender kiss before asking, “Does he have keys for those?” “I’ve never seen the

“Get dressed, quietly as you can,” Briss murmured, reaching behind for his own pile of clothes. Even in my state of panic seeing his huge arms stretch backwards was stunning, his wide chest expanding into a map of rippling strength. He only got a couple of hours of sleep but as soon as I smelt lemon my brain went into overdrive and I had to wake him. I’m not losing him now. We need to get the hell out of here. At least if we are on dry land we can shift and fight. With a twinge of sadness I flung my clothes on, the joy we’d managed to indulge in for a few brief hours already interrupted. It was magical to reconnect in body and spirit though. He understands how much I crave his body against mine. On top of me, all that weight, warmth and adoration just sent my senses haywire. Sybil felt supercharged, my body spasming into such blinding, seismic releases under his touch that I could easily grow addicted. Straddling him, filled with his hot seed and still pulsing cock was the most