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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"Mate," my wolf surfaced. Ezra's grasp on my shoulder solidified the connection between our two wolves.
At that moment I knew I had been caught, my plan foiled.
In the dim glow of the moon, I could see a subtle smirk planted on Ezra's lips. His blue eyes watched over me as he took a deep breath in, his body relaxing. Never before had I seen Ezra cleaned up so nicely. His hair was neatly styled, the scent of aftershave fresh on his face. He was wearing a well-fitted dress shirt paired with a pair of black dress pants.
My heart faltered in my chest at the sight of him, my urge to kill him out of sight and out of mind for the time being. While I was used to looking at him and my blood instantly curdling, I couldn't subdue the desire to reach out and cup his face, to make the distance between the two of us shrink until there was none left. Instead of acting on such an outrageous itch, I stood rooted in place, trapped in the blue ocean of his eyes.
He removed his hand from my shoulder, but not before his hand slowly slid down my arm. His smirk grew wider when he saw my body shiver from the contact — a reaction I could not contain.
"You weren't at the party," he stated, arms folded over his chest.
"I was busy," I said, my toes curling inward. A soft wind passed over us, and I rubbed my hands over my exposed arms.
"I can see," his eyebrows arched. "You're an Enforcer, which explains a lot." He grew quiet. The low rustling of wildlife-filled the vacant air before Ezra quickly changed the course of our conversation. "I thought you died."
His voice was hard, eyes narrowed. From the looks of it, he did not delight in speaking of my near-death experience.
"Moon Goddess didn't want me yet, I guess," I responded, averting my eyes to the ground.
"Well, she can't have you; you're mine," he declared without skipping a beat. Instinctively, I took a step back. His acceptance of our bond made my skin crawl.
I looked back up, his eyes hovering over my shoulder. The shirt I had on got shifted to the side when Ezra placed his hand on my shoulder, allowing part of my newly dawned scar to peek out from beneath the fabric. My hand flew up to cover the scar, feeling vulnerable.
"It's nothing," I murmured, angling my body away from him.
"If you would have only listened to me," his voice was light and airy, almost getting lost in the soft wind. "You wouldn't have scarred so easily."
"You can take that up with my brother," I offered, my hand slowly dropping back down to my side. I was still angled away from Ezra as I looked up to the moon.
"And who exactly is that?" He asked, which meant he had not yet deduced who I was. I did not know if I expected him to come galavanting here with all the information he could gather about my life, but I was pleased to know he had not unearthed my identity. In a way, it instilled confidence that Nightshade would have prolonged if it was not for the encounter with the Beltaire Bandits.
