I swoop in for another hit, but Bentley swipes his other leg around, taking my feet out from under me. It forces a grunt from my lips as I land on my back, gasping for air. My vision waivers and panic colors my mind again. I trained to fight blind. Shit, I used that training against Evan, but Evan wasn’t even close to the warrior that Bentley is. Breaking his leg was sheer luck on my part and it’s feeling like that luck may be running out. I suck in as much air as I can before rolling away from him and forcing myself up, carefully avoiding my injured arm. Bentley stands only ten feet away, his eyes wild with bloodlust. Onyx told us that training and an actual fight are very different, that we should be prepared to do whatever it takes to live. For me, that means playing smart and maybe a little unfair. But with life or death, is there really ever an ‘unfair’ way to survive? Bentley lunges for me, a clumsy attack as he stumbles and I easily evade him. In his desperation, he comes aga

*Anna POV*Alpha Ian keeps shooting me strange glances in the rearview mirror. It’s like he has something to say to me, but just can’t quite bring himself to say it. Maybe it’s because we are finally hitting his family’s pack land, or maybe he is finally catching on to my little secret. A small part of me hopes he tries to question me to see if I’m Tilly. There is not a doubt in my mind that I would pass any test given concerning her.“You going to ask me a question or just keep staring at me?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. Ian narrows his eyes.“Tell me about your mother…”I shrug. “She is a badass warrior, the head trainer, now with Harold.”He quirks a brow and I internally shrink. I probably shouldn’t have called him Harold, but dad. “Harold? You mean your dad?” “How do you know who Harold is to me?” Ian shrugs. “I know things. I’ve done my research on you.”Clearly not very much if he thinks I’m her. Certainly, if he had dug hard enough, he would have found a photo or

*Anna POV*Three days. Three days of sitting in this dark, dirty hole and receiving nothing but moldy meat that smells worse than it looks. Ian hasn’t shown up once since instructing the men to put me out of sight. I have, however, had one regular visitor several times a day. The woman who I am almost certain is Tilly’s grandma. She hasn’t told me that’s who she is. In fact, she hasn’t said a damn thing. But I can see a small resemblance to my best friend and it’s oddly comforting.The door in the distance creaks on its rusty hinges and I wait for the onslaught of light that they like to drench me in randomly, just to hurt my eyes. I sigh in relief when I hear the distinct hobble of the elderly woman as she comes closer with her little reading light and stool in hand. When she stops in front of me, she huffs out a heavy sigh and sets down her things before approaching the bars and staring at me.“I know your granddaughter.” I say. My voice is hoarse and painful courtesy of the silver

Georgie walks ahead of us, Onyx walking as close as possible without touching me. I know I can’t feel the bond, not as a rogue, but my heart still yearns for his touch, my body crying out for the feel of his skin. It’s not a feeling of lust where I need to jump his bones and find that spot of ecstasy, though. It’s the need for comfort, for him to hold my hand and promise he still wants me. Not that he hasn’t been saying that all along, but I think when you love someone and you’ve never really known you were all that lovable, it makes you a little clingy. At least that’s what it is in my case.Onyx hasn’t spoken since I told him I would hear him out. Heavy silence envelopes us, like doom is coming and airing our issues might be the last goodbye. It’s like kissing your spouse before marching off to war, that feeling it may be your last. But I need this closure on our very recent past if we can ever hope to build a future. “Harriet is…”“My new gamma.” Onyx answers, looking down at his

*Anna POV* I’ve never been afraid of the dark before. In fact, there isn’t much I’ve ever feared aside from losing those I love. Until right now. Right now, as I lay broken and beat for the first time, it seeps in like an early morning fog, threatening everything I know about who I am. The woods are near silent. The tree canopy must be blocking out the moon and it leaves me in a black blanket of that fear. I don’t know how long I’ve laid here. If it’s been days or minutes but I know my body is working in overdrive to heal itself. It thrums in agonizing pain as my bones creak and bend back to their normal positions, leaving in its stead an ache so intense I can’t help but whimper. Every painful pulse is a strike on the battle drums within me, feeding my festering frustration, and with that anger I grow stronger. Because the only thing stronger than fear is an anger. And I’m fucking livid. A hiss startles me and I realize it is my own labored breathing as I try to force myself to a