Fifty-Three

Cleo’s POV

Having reached the church, we were met with a welcoming committee. The rogues from before stood united in the street, ready to fight when called upon. Yet the bitch whose life I wanted to claim for myself stood right beside Alpha Sara.

Lucille was not going to be making it out of this alive. I had long ago planned to rip her to such tiny shreds that nobody could ever resurrect her again. This I had decided when Roman told me of their kiss. Sure, I should hate him for it, but Lucille had used his weakness to her advantage. She had used his love for me, and I would show that bitch exactly how bad an idea that was.

We knew we needed to get into the church; to do that, we knew we would have to fight our way in. There were at least twenty of them and only two of us. They had the numbers, but we had each other, and together we were strong.

As Roman took my hand in his own, our eyes locked in understanding. No matter what happened, one of us had to survive. One of us had to get to