Alessia Stocklin and Ezra Withers are polar opposites, but they can certainly agree on one thing: their mutual hate for each other.
He's an Alpha deadset on killing every rogue he comes across, while she's a vigilante - known as Nightshade - intent...
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Monday.
Tuesday.
Wednesday.
The days passed in a blur. As one day morphed into the next, I remained holed up in my childhood bedroom, recovering. A particularly creepy teddy bear my brother gave me years ago welcomed me both day and night with a piercing gaze, shining bright even when the light dulled and drained. I had yet to build up the courage to angle the teddy bear out of my line of sight, too weak to get up without taking a plethora of breaks in between.
During these past couple of days, I did little besides lie down, allowing my body to recuperate. Scratch that, I could do little more than lay down like I was a permanent fixture of the room. Most of the time, I was fast asleep. Otherwise, if I was awake for too long, the reality of my situation — almost dying, the Ferals, Ezra being my mate — would start to sink in, and I could not be confident enough in myself to not give in to the urge to run. Although, I did not quite think I was capable of running at the moment, even if my life depended on it.
Said urge to run away grew fainter. Without the voice constantly nudging me to run, the desire became less prominent. For that, I was thankful. If I followed such a desire, I would just be running away from my problems instead of creating a new and deserved life for myself. Running would have to wait.
While I knew now was not the time to jump ship, it did not keep me from abandoning some of my regular duties. My watch was still fastened securely around my wrist, and it buzzed constantly. The rogue alarm continually triggered, and I could only assume Ezra was the culprit. In a small way, I did not blame him. He had told me to stay put and wait for the doctor to arrive, but, instead, my brother came and rushed me away, never to be seen again.
I still could not believe Ezra was my mate. A part of me held out hope that it was all a cleverly plotted ruse, and once we encountered each other again, my wolf would not likewise recognize him as my fated mate for life. I knew the chances were slim; an Alpha's mate proclamation was hardly ever wrong, but there was hope, nonetheless.
"Hey, Alessia," Link greeted with a wide smile.
"Link!" I screamed, throwing the nearest stuffed animal his way. I paused when my hand hovered over my treasured black cat stuffie, retracting my hold to lob the malformed frog instead. The heavy beaded eyes of the frog weighed the tattered toy down, falling down to the hard wood with a hollow clunk. "I've told you a million times not to barge in my room."
"I'm sorry," he said with a smirk. He was so not sorry.
I scowled, glaring at Link and his obnoxiously large buck teeth. His hair covered most of his face, but I could still see his eyes looking around my room. My room was messy; Mom had just gotten on my case about cleaning my room, but I didn't listen to her. I'd clean it just for it to get messy again. There was no point.
My room was filled with many different stuffed animals. Dad, whenever he went traveling to other packs, would make a habit of bringing me back a stuffed animal each time. Mom said he spoiled me that way, but I would not consider myself spoiled when comparing myself to my older (barely) brother, Apollo.
