After the war, London is in chaos.
Packs are battling it out for dominance in the streets, lycans are killing each other in illegal fight dens. The Royals are being murdered.
All Juliet wants to do is forget - forget Sebastien, forget the wa...
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It was close to nine when Theo and I finally made it back to our apartment. We'd swum up the canal, circling back up through the streets and criss-crossing over the roads to obscure our scent a little. By the time we reached our place, I was ready to collapse. The fight left my body in a whoosh and I sagged against the door, sliding slowly to the floor.
Everywhere hurt. I could smell the scent of blood — mostly theirs — lingering on my skin beneath the stench of lake water, but the thought of moving, even just to strip off my clothes, made me want to pass out.
Theo grabbed his own bag, heading straight for the bathroom and slamming the door behind him. I heard the shower start up a few seconds later.
I lay against the door until I couldn't bear the smell and then I pushed myself up, using the door for support. I hobbled into the bedroom, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt from the wardrobe and throwing them down on the bed.
A wave of exhaustion crashed through me. My head spun a little and I rubbed the base of my skull, trying to soothe the ache. What kind of mess have I gotten myself into this time?
I wanted to kick myself.
I should have anticipated that something like this could happen. With the Court overthrown, there'd be no more 'official' leadership. London, like every other city on the planet inhabited by lycans, had literally been thrown to the wolves.
Worry began to push through the exhaustion. I'd planned to wait out Theo's eighteenth birthday as underground as possible, keeping to ourselves and away from other lycans who might be holding a grudge against the Royals. But if there was a territorial pack war brewing, anyone without the protection of a pack was likely to be hunted and killed for trespassing — which meant we needed to hook up with a pack, and fast.
And when they see Theo coming, they'll just open their arms wide in welcome, right?
I sighed wearily. There was no way a pack would take on a Royal — not with the amount of lycans out there gunning for their heads — which meant keeping his identity a secret. And not only did keeping secrets violate pack code, but hiding Theo's identity was going to be impossible; he could barely look at someone without giving himself up on a gold-plated platter.
I reached for my suitcase and unzipped the front compartment. Our fake passports, along with Theo's forged birth certificate and the confirmation of guardianship certificate were nestled in one of the pockets, along with a cheap mobile phone.
I stared at it for a long moment, my heart thudding loudly in my chest. Then I reached for it, my fingers curling around the cold metal. I unlocked the screen, tapping into the contacts section.
There were just three numbers. Theo's, Lira's, and Sebastien's.
My thumb hit call before I could stop myself. It rang once, twice, three times...
