Forced to marry her abusive ex-boyfriend, Jayden Warner, future Luna Anastasia Lasko has no choice but to flee from her home. With the help of her wolf and her magical ability, which she’s kept secret her entire life, she manages to stay on the run for three long years.

Everything changes on one fateful night when a horrible mistake leaves her in the clutches of the heartless Alpha Caius Blackwell.

Hatred and desire blossom between the two immediately, along with a connection deeper than either could have ever anticipated.

Despite their conflicted feelings, Anastasia and Alpha Caius realize they need one another.

All across the country werewolves with unique abilities are going missing, and Alpha Caius needs soldiers if he’s going to uncover the truth. All Anastasia wants is to step up as Luna to her pack, but she’s forbidden from doing so until she takes a husband.

The two come together and form a marriage contract that would make them husband and wife for three hundred and sixty-five days.

Lives and hearts are on the line, and nothing is what it seems.

Can both stay whole when secrets come to light and a mate-bond is thrown into the mix?

** Set in the same world as Alpha Nox! **

Anastasia

If you were to have asked me to pinpoint the moment my life fell apart and the world that I knew came crashing down in an explosion of shattered hopes, wishes, and dreams, I would’ve said it started the day my father called me into his office.

As the Alpha of our large pack, located along the coast of Virginia, my father had a lot on his hands. He was almost always busy, which made it even more surprising that he’d call for me early on a Monday.

He sat behind his hand-crafted executive desk, wearing one of his tailored suits that clung to his massive frame. All it did was highlight the differences between us.

Where he was hard, I was soft. Where he was stern and disciplined, I was kind and wild.

“Anastasia, come. Sit.” He beckoned me in a way one might call a beloved pet. “We have something important to discuss.”

Much to his ire, I didn’t sit. I planted my hands on my hips and proceeded to tap my stiletto, the ones he hated with every fiber of his being, on the hardwood floor.

His nostrils flared, and brown eyes darkened. Releasing an exasperated sigh, he smoothed his fingers over his mustache.

“Fine, show one last shred of defiance. Get it out of your system, daughter. Hence forth, your days of willful disobedience are at an end.”

What was that supposed to mean? Was he going to take away my credit card again?

“I am an old man, Anastasia. It is time I step down and let a new generation rule this pack.”

I perked up immediately. My entire life I’d been studying and training to step into my role as Luna. The people of this pack adored me, and not just for the various programs I’d started to aid them and their children. It was a relationship that had taken me years to build. One I cherished with my whole heart.

“Are you serious?” I all but squealed, my hands clasped together. “You won’t regret this. I have so many plans—”

“I know I will not regret this, because you are not ruling alone.” Father cleared his throat, “There is a law your great-grandfather put into action, one you are to abide by. Before stepping into your role as Luna, you will first marry.”

The joy that raced through my veins evaporated. My jaw dropped. Words fluttered in my chest, yet couldn’t seem to break free of the cage they were trapped in.

“I—I’m going to what?”

“You are getting married, Anastasia.” Father then turned his head to the door. “You may come in now, Jayden.”

Jayden Warner, my preening douchebag of an ex, strutted into my father’s office. His tanned skin, slicked back hair, and chocolate eyes had once drawn me in and left me stumbling over my own two feet.

That was until he opened his mouth and showed his true colors.

It had taken a total of ten dates for Jayden to reveal himself as a typical misogynistic wolf. Even worse, I had already slept with the guy by then. It didn’t matter how many showers I took; I could still feel his grubby fingers pressing into my skin.

“Hello, Ana.”

I snarled openly, “Do not call me that.”

My father’s expression hardened, his eyes flashing with rage at my outburst. He’d trained me—raised me—better than that, but something about Jayden never failed to make me lose control.

“You will treat your fiancé with respect, Anastasia.” He said in his booming voice, “I am sure you’re unaware, but Jayden’s company has taken off since the months you two have parted. He’s made connections all across the country, with both the wolves and humans. He will be an invaluable asset to this pack, and an Alpha worthy of taking over.”

Giving into the fire in my veins, I slid my stare over to Jayden. As we locked eyes, his lips tipped up into a smug smile. The sight of it sent me reeling back to our last date, where everything had crashed and burned.

We were at a local club named Euphoria, dancing and drinking the night away with a few of his friends.

The night took a turn when Jayden slipped off the dance floor and headed to the bathroom. I continued to twirl beneath the flashing lights, taking a break only when my dry mouth begged me to do so.

It was at the bar where I began chatting with one of Jayden’s closest friends.

Stephen was one of those jock-types, always smiling and laughing. His good mood was infectious.

The conversation was innocent. He’d been joking about something his niece did when Jayden swooped in, his eyes narrowed and jaw clenched. I removed my hand from Stephen’s shoulder, where it had been as I threw my head back in laughter.

Not a word was spoken when Jayden led me away from his friend to a darkened hallway where he pushed me against the wall and snarled low in my ear.

“What the hell was that?”

I blinked up at him, confused and just a tad buzzed. His hand wrapped around my wrist, digging in tightly. The pain was numbed by the alcohol, a distant thought in the face of my confusion.

“What was what?”

“Do you know how disrespectful and embarrassing it is to see my woman screwing with another male? How am I supposed to trust you after this? You practically threw yourself at him, Ana. Goddess, can you even comprehend how desperate you looked?”

I couldn’t form words, or a single coherent thought as I stared into the eyes of the same man who had claimed my body mere days ago. What was wrong with him? Had me talking to his friend really set him off?

It was insanity.

“You’re lucky I even let you come out here tonight.” He shook his head, the lights dancing on his slicked back hair. “This won’t happen again.”

My mother’s voice whispered in my ear, reminding me that I was worth more than this. She might’ve been gone, lost many years ago, but not a day went by when I didn’t think about her.

She had raised me better than this.

That night, I had broken up with Jayden and left him in the dust. Ignoring his calls and texts had been easy, even when they increased in intensity over the course of a few days.

The names he had called me stuck with me even months later.

I whirled on my father, furious and desperate, and hating every second of it.

“You can’t do this. I’ve been training to become Luna my entire life. You can’t seriously think I need a man to—to what? To keep me in place? To rule over me? That law is out dated and misogynistic!”

Jayden said nothing, as I knew he would. My father on the other hand, stood from his desk, towering over me in an act of pure power. I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted blood, refusing to cower before him.

“That is exactly what you need, Anastasia. You are too wild, too reckless. You, like the rest of your gender, are run by your emotions. This pack needs logic. It needs someone dedicated to its people.” His voice dropped to a low snarl, “Do not think Jayden didn’t inform me of the reason behind your breakup. You are lucky he is willing to look past your inane desire to frequent clubs and drink yourself into oblivion.”

My jaw dropped. “He’s lying. I left him because he’s a sleezy, controlling asshole.”

“Anastasia!”

My father’s snarl crackled throughout the room. The numerous books he kept in neat rows on his shelves began to tremble, a sign he was losing his patience. Deep within my chest, my wolf squirmed. Her rage coated my tongue, as did her shame. It went against our nature to disrespect our Alpha, yet how could I not?

“I apologize for my daughter’s behavior, Jayden. It was my hope that she would someday mature.”

Jayden laid a hand over his chest, right below that gaudy golden chain he wore, and preened at my father. “It’s quite all right, Alpha. I understand this is a big adjustment for her.” His eyes coasted over to where I stood. “You belong by my side, Ana. You’re everything I’ve ever wanted in a woman, and someday you’ll raise our pups to have that same fire.”

Absolutely not.

Then, as though this day couldn’t get any worse, father turned his cold, dead stare to my face and said the final words that would shatter my heart and seal my fate.

“Your mother would be so disappointed in you.”

Static crawled across the corners of my mind. I could no longer hold the tears at bay. As they filled my eyes, I turned and sprinted from the office. I didn’t stop running, not until I reached my bedroom suite.

Sobs tore at my chest. I scrambled for my cellphone, and quickly dialed my best-friends number.

Princess Evangeline Montgomery

The world changed when Alpha Nox Einar and his mate, Luna Lilac Einar, revealed the existence of our kind to the humans. To prevent another war, the United States government sectioned off pieces of the country to create dedicated pack lines. Those with larger territories were now considered kingdoms.

Since then, our people have been paving a path to peace between us and the humans.

Well, most of us. My father and a few others were the exception.

My dearest friend picked up the phone within the first two rings, “Anastasia, what’s wrong?”

I sunk to the floor beside my bed, the carpet digging into my bare knees.

“Evangeline, I need your help.”

She listened in silence, comforting me when the sobs became too much, as I told her about the mess my life had suddenly become. It was her that told me I had a choice, one that needed to be made right here, right now.

I could stay and let my father marry me to Jayden, gifting me like a prized horse with no other value other than the children she could bear.

Or, I could leave.

I could take control of my life and live it the way I wanted. Someday, when I figured out a way around my father’s rules, I could return to claim what was mine.

I knew what I needed to do.

With the help of my ability, one no one—not even my father—knew about, I slipped from the estate. I went to the nearest gas station to pull every single dollar from my bank account.

Afterwards, I waited in the small parking lot beside the pumps for Evangeline’s contact to meet up with me.

I was surprised to find her personal bodyguard driving the car that would serve as my getaway. He was a known teleporter, and a powerful one at that.

As I slid into the passenger seat, he handed me a manilla folder.

“Everything’s in there. New ID’s, birth certificates, and passports should you need to leave the country.” Peter said, his eyes latched onto the blackened road. His accent was light and refined. “Princess Evangeline would like me to remind you that you are always welcome in her kingdom.”

Tears flooded my eyes, not because of what I was about to do, but because of my best friend.

“I know,” I said, sniffling. “I can’t risk her getting caught up in this. She’s the first-person father will turn to once he realizes I’ve left.”

Peter grunted, understanding my reasoning even when Evangeline herself couldn’t. She was wild too, and just as reckless as I was. Risking everything for those she loved came naturally to her. It was one of the many things we had in common.

Holding my new life in my trembling hands, we sped down the road, leaving my pack, my people, and my father in the dust.

For updates, news, aesthetic photos, and more – follow me on my socials! I* – xendmostmarsx, F* – Author Jane/Author Jane Doe

Anastasia

Three Years Later

“Butterfly, you’re up!” Neeve, tonight’s manager, called from within the club.

I stood from my dressing table and leaned across the sea of eyeshadow pallets, lip glosses, stage paint, and body sprays, to check my make-up in the mirror.

A shimmery azure powder coated my eyelids, the same shade as the butterfly mask I had yet to slip on.

I grabbed the body glitter and dusted my hiked-up breasts. It would look incredible on the stage, and it didn’t transfer to clothes, so our married patrons wouldn’t have to worry about their wives learning their dirty little secrets.

Such was the standard here at Mystics Gentleman’s Club.

Adjusting my sheer top, embedded with hundreds of tiny diamonds, I moved on to zipping up my skirt. The pleated scrap of fabric did nothing to cover my backside, but it was awfully cute. With the pattern of a monarch butterfly dripping in blue, it matched the stage name I’d given myself when I started working here four months ago.

After spritzing myself down with some scent-blocker, I waved at Pixie, a red-headed vixen whose body piercings garnered so much attention I briefly debated getting my own done, and Mermaid, a dark-skinned Goddess with curves that would make any man or woman’s mouth water.

I slipped on my mask and my favorite pair of pleasers. Two butterfly wings sprouted from the back of each one, completing my look.

As I emerged from the back to a sea of glossy-eyed stares, a pop song with a heavy beat sounded from the speakers mounted on the walls. The lights melted from cold white to pulsing blue and purple. They danced along my skin as I sauntered up to the pole at the center of the stage, illuminating the tattoos down both of my arms.

Since I’d refused to dye my honey-blonde hair three years ago, I had to do something to change up my appearance. Tattoos were easily recognizable, yes, but they went against everything my father had taught me.

As a woman, my job was to be sweet, quiet, demure. I was meant to blend into the background, not stand out.

Flashing the crowd a sultry smile, I wrapped my leg around the pole and did a few precautionary spins. My hands danced through the air, skimming along my tapered waist and wide hips.

I started with a few of the basics. Working my way into a backslide that left my legs spread, I did a few carousel spins, arching my back to show off what hid beneath my tiny, pleated skirt.

Money began to pour onto the stage, but I ignored it for the time being. As I moved in sensual, fluid motions, I flicked my eyes to each person in the crowd. With a single look I made them feel important.

Make a man feel special, and his guard slips down.

Murmurs kicked up as I flipped myself upside down. With one hand high on the pole, and one low, I dropped one of my legs, stretching it out behind me. My free ankle was pressed flush against the pole, rooting me in place as it spun slowly. Moving on from the extended butterfly, I slipped into a full moon pose.

When the song finally finished, I ended the dance with my back arched and hands roaming my chest. Smiling coyly, I waved my fingers at the crowd and sauntered backstage.

While the stage hands swept up my earnings to be deposited into a locked box with my name on it, I ventured to the back to grab a drink.

I’d just brought my bottle of water to my lips when Neeve appeared in the break room. The head manager of Mystics was short and pudgy with a solid gold tooth that showed whenever he got worked up.

He wasn’t exactly attractive, but he was a good guy. Not only did he treat us girls with respect, but he also took after Otis, our bouncer. Neither were afraid to rip into the men that got too handsy.

He scratched the top of his bald head, “Aye, Butterfly. You got a man out there wantin’ a private dance.”

I was just about to pass it up, feigning exhaustion, when Neeve cracked a toothy grin.

“Take a look at ‘em first, will ya? He looks like he’s got some serious money.”

Trusting Neeve, because he’d never steered us girls wrong, I flicked my hair over my shoulder and popped my hip out.

“Alright, fine. After this I’m heading home. I’ve got a bubble bath waiting with my name on it.”

“Atta girl! Get out there and make that money.” He snapped his stubby fingers together. “Top up on that scent-blocker first, though.”

Mystic’s Gentleman’s Club was located just outside the boundary line of the Falling Star Pack. This meant we had a mixture of both human and wolf clients. Of course, it was damn near impossible to tell the difference between the two when everyone was wearing scent-blocker, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

It was risky working at a place like this, so close to another pack, but with the Falling Star Pack’s reputation for being full of ruthless, bloodthirsty animals, I could trust that my father and Jayden wouldn’t come sniffing too close.

After dousing myself in the chemical-scented spray, I made my way back to the front of the club. With Neeves’ help, I spotted the guy who had requested me for a private dance.

He sat in an alcove in the darkest part of the club. The padded booth was blood red, even beneath the colorful lights.

I came to a halt, unable to breathe as I drank in the specimen of pure male.

Broad shoulders strained against a perfectly pressed dress shirt the color of shadows. His slacks, a few shades darker, showed off every inch of his powerful thighs.

My heart fluttered hard enough to alert my wolf.

Thick hair, long enough to run my fingers through, hung over his forehead. The sides and back were shaved short in a fade that looked soft to the touch.

Standing on either side of him were two men. The three of them had such blinding similarities that they had to be brothers, or possibly even triplets.

I took in their sharp noses, impossibly high cheekbones, and soulful eyes the color of liquid honey. They had the kind of classic beauty that could make a woman swoon.

They were, for all intents and purposes, unfathomably perfect.

However, there was something sophisticated about the middle one that drew me in. I couldn’t help it; I’d always loved a man in a suit.

The other two broke off before I could listen in on their conversation. One of them, the shorter one, though he still stood a solid foot above my head, turned my way.

He ran his thumb along his jaw, then flashed the one sitting a loaded grin.

Without a single word, the two walked away.

I approached Mr. Dark-and-Handsome with the same confidence I held on stage. A coy smile hid the hammering of my heart. A flutter of my eyelashes hid the way my hands trembled.

Leaning forward, I felt my honey-blonde waves fall over my shoulders. I poised my lips into a smile. “Ready for your dance, sir?”

Sir.

How some of our patrons loved being called sir. It gave them power, and what man didn’t long for power?

He grunted, and I fought the urge to snort. Man of few words, apparently.

I stood between his muscular thighs and stared down at him like a Queen approaching her throne. I briefly flicked my eyes over his left hand, searching for a tan line where a wedding ring might’ve been. Surprisingly, there was none.

Just as a new song began, dark and pulsating, I tipped my head to the side and purred in his ear.

“You may touch me but get too handsy and you’ll lose the hands. We clear?”

His eyes, sparkling like topaz’s, slid up the length of my body. I repressed a shudder. Goddess, his stare was heavy. I could practically feel it coasting along my bare skin.

“Crystal.”

And that voice, phew. All deep and low, caught in a perpetual growl. That was the kind of voice that talked you through it, telling you what a good girl you were for taking his—

Screw the bubble bath, I was going to need a cold shower after this.

I typically didn’t enjoy the private dances I gave, but I had a feeling this one might be different.

Just as the beat dropped, I spun around. My mini skirt lifted as I leaned forward and began to dance. I ran my hands up my hips, feeling the pressure of his eyes watching my every move.

I nearly jostled as his fingers grazed my arms, trailing over the brightly colored tattoos that led up to my shoulders. They were rough with callouses, a surprise considering his clean, put-together appearance.

His hands trailed down to my hips, squeezing softly. I nearly gasped, my heart beating in tune with the music.

As I swayed to the beat, my bottom gliding over his crotch teasingly, I felt my own skin begin to heat. A familiar pressure started to build in my core, startling me so thoroughly that I nearly stumbled.

Turning around, I slid my legs onto the padded seat of the couch, forcing him to lean back.

I held my breath, willing my body not to react as his eyes, dark and hooded, seared into my own. Hard as I tried, I couldn’t pull away. The gold tones within them sparkled, a beacon drawing me deeper and deeper in.

Now straddling him, I continued to dance. His chest heaved softly, air escaping his lips in soft puffs. It smelled of whiskey and butterscotch, a mixture that made my mouth water.

My fingers trailed through my hair, over my cleavage, and down my waist. I even glided them lightly down his chest, brushing over the buttons of his pristine dress shirt.

All of it, each movement my body made mere inches above his, was for a reason.

Slowly, the man was letting his guard down.

I knew in that moment that there was no way this man could possibly be a wolf. He had to be human. I’d given plenty dances to some of the males from the Falling Star Pack, and they were brutes. Each and every one of them.

Not a single snarl escaped him, nor a growl.

Perhaps he was a bodybuilder-slash-business man. One with incredible genetics. That would explain the rippling muscles, perfectly symmetrical face, and tailored suit.

I quickly made up my mind and decided that the temptation was much too strong to resist.

Rolling my hips inches above his, I ran my fingers down his chest. Tapping into my magic, I felt time come to a screeching halt. The dancers on the stage froze, the music paused sending the club into deafening silence. Even the man beneath me wasn’t immune. Then again, I never met a person who was.

Slowly, I slipped my fingers into his pocket and folded his car keys into my hand.

Time resumed, the song ended, and with a coy smile I slid off his lap.

Anastasia

The car’s engine was a low hum, a purr that skated along my skin and left me tingling as I cruised down the highway.

Or maybe it was the adrenaline.

I hadn’t started my career as a dancer by lifting cars and robbing my customers. It was something I sort of fell into.

A hobby, if you will.

Two years ago, my father and Jayden cranked up their pursuit of me. They hired private detectives that tailed my every move, tracing my location across the country. They’d almost caught me too.

There was never enough money, I realized. I needed more, much more than a few measly jobs could get me. Money to run. Money to hide. Money to figure out a way around my father’s rules.

That’s how my side hustle as a professional pickpocket began.

I spent some time in Las Vegas, which was where I’d met my mentor, a human girl named Harpy.

My ability to stop time is what propelled me from amateur pickpocket to expert thief. Over the years, my control gradually increased. Three seconds became ten, then thirty, then an entire minute.

It was something I did to the rich human men that left their wives and children at home, claiming they were ‘staying late at work’ when really they were paying top dollar to have some half-naked woman dance for them.

Even if Mr. Dark-and-Handsome didn’t fit the bill, he sealed his fate when he failed to pay me for the private dance.

I dropped my voice, mimicking his deep, dark tenor. “Consider yourself dismissed, Ms. Butterfly.” Snorting, I rolled my eyes. “What a jerk!”

Losing his car was penance for his bad attitude.

Rook, who I called “Crook” only when he was trying to rip me off, lived in the attic of his Dad’s old mechanic shop.

“Whew,” He whistled as I pulled into an empty bay. “That’s a nice ride. Porche 911 GT3 RS. Goes for a solid 300k and that’s without any additional bits and bobbles.”

Rook didn’t look twice at my sparkly costume. We both knew his one and only love came with leather seats and custom rims.

“You know I don’t know what any of that means. I like driving fast cars, I don’t care what goes into them.”

Rook quickly tied his hair back. “Who’d you swipe this one from?”

“Does it matter?”

“Nah. You used that signal jammer I gave you, right?”

“Obviously. I don’t need Richie Rich coming to take his car back. GPS tracker has officially been placed out of service. You’re free to do your thing.”

While he scoured the inside of the car and peered beneath the hood, I leaned against the body of a flashy pick-up truck and analyzed my chipped manicure.

I’d have to get that fixed this weekend.

“Oh, God. Stacy, what did you do?!” Rook yelped; his voice so shrill that I nearly ignored the fake name I’d given him all those years ago when we first met.

I looked up, fighting a frown. Rook scrambled his way out of the car, clutching a couple of papers in his fist. His face was drained of blood.

“What’s your damage?”

“My damage?! Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Whose car this is!”

“Business man Bob?”

“You think this is funny? This car doesn’t just belong to anyone, Stacy. It belongs to an Alpha. The Alpha!”

I thought back to the man I’d danced for. A jerk he might’ve been, but an Alpha?

No—No, it was okay. I’d been through worse. I’d just have to lay low and keep my head down. Skipping out of work would only draw attention, so I’d act as though nothing changed. Yeah, I could definitely handle this.

I blinked, “You’re going to have to be more specific. There’s a lot of Alpha’s in this country.”

Rook thrust the papers in my face. “Read them! Go on, read them. That’s our death warrant right there.”

Sighing, I took the crinkled registration from his hand and scoured the tiny print, searching for—

Oh.

Written in a neat, professional script at the bottom of the page was a name.

Alpha Caius Blackwell

“We’re dead.” Rook chuckled; the sound akin to a mouses squeak. “Five years I’ve been in business and now I’m done for. What am I going to tell my parents? What am I going to tell my brother? I have a family for—”

“Calm down for a second.” I snarled, my heart thundering in my chest. “You’re getting carried away. Goddess, it’s like you want to be caught. The Alpha doesn’t know it’s me who swiped his keys. There’s no proof of it either. Take the car apart and sell what you can. You use aliases during your deals, right? You should be fine then. We’ll take what money we can manage and destroy the rest. Then, we’ll both take a little break from car lifting until things calm down. Sound like a plan?”

“You can’t expect me to still try and sell this thing, Stacy. The risks—”

“The risks are worth the reward, yeah? Besides, what am I supposed to do with it? Do you seriously think the Alpha Caius Blackwell, ruler of the Falling Star Pack, is going to let me return his stolen car without retaliation?”

Rook fisted his hair, yanking it from its ponytail. “Let’s say I do this for you. I want half of the profits.”

Ugh, that was going to sting. “Done.”

“One last thing,” he said, glancing nervously at the car. “If you get caught, I want your word you won’t snitch on me.”

I’d come from luxury; from the kind of money most people would kill to have, but I knew what it was like to steal to survive.

“You have my word, Rook.”

He cursed under his breath, “Alright, fine. Get the hell out of here and let me deal with this. I’ll be in contact with you once I’ve got the cash.”

Shifting in the woods beside Rook’s mechanic shop, I bounded through the trees feeling the wind whip through my golden fur.

‘Rook’s too squeamish for this line of work,’ Ziva, my wolf, huffed. ‘We may have to take him out.’

In three years not once have we had to “eliminate” someone, yet Ziva never failed to offer the option.

‘Has anyone ever told you what a bloodthirsty beast you are?’

Her tail twitched pleasantly. ‘You’ve always been so good at compliments, Anastasia.’

I made it back to Seattle and entered my tiny one-bedroom apartment sometime around seven in the morning. Exhausted from running on pure adrenaline, I quickly mourned the bubble bath I’d missed out on and collapsed face-first into bed.

My nightmares typically featured Jayden and my father. This time around I found myself cornered by a certain golden-eyed Alpha, blocked in by his muscular, domineering frame.

Unlike my father, no matter how many times I tried to run, Alpha Caius always found me.

Fighting the urge to pack up and flee, I headed to Mystic’s Gentleman’s Club around ten o’clock, determined to feign normalcy.

Alpha Caius must’ve touched dozens of women that night. It could’ve been any one of them, even another patron, who had swiped his keys. There was no way he’d know it was me.

My anxiety faded as the hours ticked by. I danced the stress away, raking in tips that would help me coast through the week.

Determined to take a relaxing bath, I left the club around two in the morning. Since Mystic’s was only a few minutes away from my apartment, I walked to and from work.

“Home sweet home.”

Kicking the door shut behind me, I clicked the seven individual locks I’d installed into place. Shrugging off my jacket and sneakers by the entryway, I walked the two feet over to the kitchen.

The entire place was obscenely small, but it was under the radar and the landlord let me pay in cash with no strings attached.

While the water for my tea boiled, I opened my singular window to allow the cool breeze inside. I had just ventured into the bathroom to turn on the tub when I heard a thud.

My gut soured instantly.

‘Something isn’t right.’ Ziva growled.

I crept into the living room. On the floor, a few feet away from my open window, sat a canister.

I had just enough time to gasp when it hissed, spewing smoke across the floor which quickly floated into the air. Adrenaline pulsated throughout my body, sharpening my senses, and giving me a moment to think.

This had to be my father and Jayden at work, which meant after all this time they finally found me.

I needed to leave, and fast.

Grabbing hold of my magic, time proceeded to come to a halt. Curls of smoke hovered in the air like milk-white ribbons. One inhale and I knew I’d be on the floor.

My gut clenched, warning me I needed to hurry before I exhausted myself completely.

I dashed into my bedroom grabbed all the cash I had hidden in the loose floorboard.

Sprinting to the front door, I slipped on my sneakers and made quick work of the locks. I raced out into the hall, nearly tripping down the stairs when I spotted the masked men.

They wore dark suits with literal bullet-proof vests, and helmets with dark visors that blocked out their eyes.

Goddess, they had been seconds away from breaking down my door! If I had taken any longer, I would’ve been done for.

I raced past them, breathless and hating myself for living on the sixth floor.

If there was one consolation, it was the scent-blocker the club provided me with. So long as it remained in place, they wouldn’t be able to track me.

I could feel my magic slipping through my fingers. Time skipped like a stone across a glassy lake. Each passing second it got closer to sinking beneath the surface.

I’d just emerged into the alleyway behind the building when time resumed. My muscles ached as though I’d run a marathon, and my head throbbed. If I had held it any longer, I would have passed out.

The sound of heavy footfalls came from the front side of the building.

I slinked deeper into the alley, keeping beneath the shadow cover provided by the nearby trees. As much as I hated living in the city, I had learned it like the back of my hand.

Cutting left behind a row of dilapidated apartments, I ran until I was a solid block away from my place. Across the street were some small townhouses. A couple of people were sitting out front in fold out chairs, passing a bottle between them.

I darted across the street, aiming for the narrow alleyway dividing the crumbling homes. The scent of trash swallowed me up the further in I ran. Veering right to an adjoining alleyway, I stumbled to a halt when two men stepped from the shadows.

I recognized them instantly.

Broad shoulders, dark hair, eyes that swam like liquid gold. It was the men from Mystic’s, the two that had accompanied Alpha Caius Blackwell.

Oddly enough, I was relieved it wasn’t my father’s men that had caught up to me.

Standing this close, I could make out a few details I hadn’t noticed before. One of the two had a lip piercing, and a splotch of dark ink crawling up his throat. The other’s hair was a tad longer, and he had a scar slashed through his upper lip.

Their gazes were trained on me with predatory focus. The one with the scar lifted his lips in a dark smile, a smile promising violence.