Page 1 of Rejecting his Mate (The Wolves of Black Mountain #2)

PAST …

I know we’re in trouble the moment we step out of the motel room and into the night air. I stifle a yawn, my jaw tight as I try to control it. In the distance, I can hear cars, but nothing moves on the road in front of the building or the parking lot below.

The stillness surrounding us feels wrong, though I’m not sure why.

I tug my coat around my small body, trembling in the cold air. There’s a layer of frost on the railings that surround the walkway, but there’s no snow on the ground yet. I suck in a trembling breath as goose bumps raise over my skin beneath my jacket. My bare legs are chilled to the bone, the thin nightdress I’m wearing underneath my coat doing nothing to keep me warm.

“Mama, where are we going?” I ask, keeping my voice low and quiet. I sense the urgency and the fear in her movements, and that makes me feel just as anxious.

“Quiet, Halle,” she says.

It’s not snapped, but it is firm, and it makes me clamp my lips together. Mama is never usually sharp with me. We laugh and have so much fun together—or we did. Lately, all we’ve been doing is moving from motel to motel. Our days are spent on the road, eating at truck stops and diners, while our nights are filled with strange beds in different towns. I miss my room and our backyard.

I clutch my teddy bear to my chest as I glance up the walkway. We’re in complete darkness other than a small slither of light coming from the gap in the curtains of one room along the walkway and the flashing sign near the road that says “Rooms Available”.

I don’t like the dark; I never have, but tonight it feels more dangerous than ever. The shadows feel as if they are closing in.

The motel room disappears as Mama shuts the door behind us, and the last pull of sleep goes with it. I’m fully alert, and fear clamps around my gut.

Mama pulls me close against her body, her arm shielding me from some unseen threat. I can feel the tension through her, and that adds to my growing nervousness.

“Whatever happens, you stay close to me,” Mama says as she lifts our bag off the ground and slings it over her shoulder.

“Okay, Mama,” I say in an equally quiet voice.

She takes my hand and drags me along the walkway toward the stairs that lead down to the parking lot. My legs pump to keep up with her pace, but Mama never lets go of my hand, even as we go down the stairs.

Stopping at the bottom, Mama’s head snaps toward the shadows beyond the building as if she can sense a threat. Her hand tightens in mine as she lifts her chin a little and sniffs the air.

I mimic her, letting my wolf’s senses take over. It takes me less than a second to catch their scent. It infuses my nose with a kind of woodsy but wet smell.

Wolf.

Mama tightens her grip on my hand, darting across the lot and dragging me with her. She fumbles with the car keys, muttering words I can’t hear under her breath as she gets the door open.

“In you go,” she orders. I scramble across the seat and onto the passenger side while she gets behind the wheel.

I clutch Teddy closer, my eyes darting around the darkness as she shuts her door and starts the engine. The headlights lighten the parking lot, chasing some shadows away. I catch the glimmer of two eyes in the dark before another set comes into view.

I know Mama sees them too. She stiffens, her gaze locked in the same direction.

“Put your seat belt on,” she orders, pulling her own around her body. I struggle to get mine into the catch, but eventually, it clicks into place.

Snuggling the bear in my hands, I reach out to the animal that lives inside my head, needing her comfort. She whimpers and paws the ground, pleading for me to flee to safety.

Mama has a wolf in her mind too, but mine is, like me, just a pup. Mama says some of us can shift into our wolves when we grow up, but she can’t, and I’m too young to try. The first shift happens during the first moon ceremony, around our twenty-first year, or so Mama tells me. I have a long way to go until then.

The car lurches forward, and the tires squeal as Mama directs it toward the parking lot exit.

Two large wolves step out in front of the car. One is gray, with a longer coat and piercing amber eyes, and the other is a sandy color. Both have their heckles raised, and as young as I am, I understand the threat in that.

Mama slams on the brakes to avoid hitting them. I jolt in my seat, the belt snapping around me and sending a punch of pain through my chest.

Despite being encased in the metal frame of the car, we are exposed, vulnerable, and alone. I count the pounding of my heart, which I can hear thudding in my ears as I peer through the windshield.

“Damn.” Mama slams the stick on the dashboard down and twists to look over her shoulder. “Hold on tight, baby,” she warns before the car jerks backward.

I keep my gaze locked on the wolves coming toward us until Mama spins the car around, and we’re looking the other way. My stomach heaves at the movement, and I swallow down the acid climbing up my throat.

She hits the gas, and the car bumps over the curb and onto the grass before we hit the road. The screech of the tires is loud as the car peels off.

Once we’re rushing away from the motel, I turn in my seat to glance through the back window. We are not free, not yet. The wolves are chasing after us, but we’re going too fast for them to keep up. Mama splits her gaze between the road and the rearview mirror as she steers the car onto a larger road.

“Mama, why are they following us?” I want to be brave, but I can’t keep my voice from trembling.

She doesn’t answer right away, her concentration elsewhere.

“Because… because we’re different, baby,” she murmurs the words as she weaves between the few cars and trucks on the road. “And those assholes don’t like anything that ain’t the same as them.”

I’ve never heard Mama swear, so my eyes flare at her words. As if sensing she’s overstepped, she reaches over, splitting her gaze between me and the road. “I’m sorry, baby. Mama’s just upset.” I want to tell her it’s okay, but the words stick in my throat, clogging my airway. I let my tears fall, turning to the window so I can wipe them away. I’m a big girl now, and big girls don’t cry.

The road widens into a highway, lights coming from cars racing on the opposite side. My fear keeps me awake even though I was dragged from my bed and I should feel tired.

I squeeze Teddy tighter as if he can protect me from the wolves Mama is scared of.

We’re different…

Different how?

Because of the wolves in our minds? I thought everyone had those.

As if she can sense my troubled thoughts, Mama takes her eyes off the road for a split second to glance at me.

“Try to get some sleep, Halle.”

I feel wide awake after all this commotion, but I lay down on the bench seat anyway. Arguing doesn’t seem like a good idea right now, not when tension is still rolling off Mama even though the wolves are far behind us.

The cab is warm, but my legs are still chilly as I hold Teddy and try to sleep.

When sleep doesn’t come, I watch Mama drive. She doesn’t relax. Her knuckles are white as she grips the steering wheel, and her gaze drifts constantly to the rearview mirror.

“Mama… what’s happening?” I ask eventually.

She blows out a breath. “We’re okay now,” she says, and I’m not sure if she’s saying it for my benefit or hers. It also doesn’t answer my questions.

“Are we in trouble?” I press.

“You smelled the wolves when we were at the motel?” I nod. “You scent a wolf again, you run, understand? You run fast and far. I don’t care where you are—you run.”

I don’t understand the instruction. We’re wolves too. Why would we need to run?

“Halle, do you understand?” Mama snaps the words out this time, and I hug Teddy closer.

“Okay, Mama.”

Silence lapses between us, and I relax, my eyes getting heavy.

I must fall asleep because the next thing I know, Mama’s shaking me. I pop my eyes open, and her face swims in front of mine for a moment before she comes fully into view.

“We’re here.”

I push up in my seat and glance through the windows. It is another motel. I squash down the disappointment that we might have been going home.

Leaning over, Mama undoes my seat belt before she climbs out of the car. I scramble over the seat and get out through her side.

The moon is still high in the sky, and I lift my face toward it as Mama grabs our bag. The moon calms me, even as it makes my skin prickle. Our kind draws strength from the lunar cycles, and as young as I am, I still feel its power over me.

Mama takes my hand once the bag is on her shoulder and we hurry across the parking lot toward the main office.

The small space is dirty and unpleasant. The man behind the counter smells funny, and I don’t like the way he looks at me, but he gives Mama a key after she hands over the money.

She rushes me out into the cold air and toward the rooms on the parking area level. Outside number three, she stops and unlocks the door, her gaze darting around before herding me inside.

The lights come on, and the room is flooded with brightness. I squint against it as she shuts the door behind us, securing it.

“Coat off, baby,” she says as she goes to the window and peers out over the parking lot. She doesn’t find whatever she’s looking for because she closes the curtains and turns back to me, a smile painted on her lips.

I remove my coat and drop it on the small chair in the corner. My hands tremble as I do.

“Go and use the bathroom.”

Mama drops the bag on the floor, and I do as I’m told. I need to pee as soon as she tells me to do it. I don’t shut the door fully as I do my business, scared Mama might disappear if I do. I don’t know what’s happening, but I won’t risk losing Mama.

As I’m washing my hands, I hear Mama’s voice.

“…need you here,” she murmurs so low I can barely pick out the words.

It’s rude to listen, but Mama isn’t telling me anything, so I turn the faucet off and put my face to the crack in the door. My senses are heightened, so I catch every word even if she's being quiet.

She looks strange, silhouetted against the nightstand lamp. The light it casts makes the room look even more shabby from this angle, the furniture old and battered.

Mama is sitting on the bed, her back to me, her phone pressed to her ear. Her red hair is loose as if she’s removed the tie to drag her fingers through it.

I have the same red locks, the same unruly wave to them. I always liked that I share that with her, and one of my favorite things is when we sit and brush each other’s hair.

“You owe me this.” I don’t know what is being said on the other end of the phone, but Mama’s words are clipped and sharp. “I can’t shake them, Adeline. I’ve tried.”

As if sensing my presence, Mama turns to the door and I jump back as if scolded by fire. “I’ve got to go. Be here.” She ends the call. “Halle?”

Knowing there’s no use hiding, I slip out of the bathroom and come to the bed. Mama is watching me, her brow pinched, her expression tight.

“You shouldn’t listen to adult conversations,” she chastises.

I shouldn’t, but how else am I going to find out what’s going on? “Sorry, Mama.”

She blows out a breath and moves to the bed to pull the covers back before I climb in and let her tuck the blankets around me. Teddy finds his way under my arm as I snuggle into the pillows.

Something catches my eye. A cut on Mama’s hand. It spans the length of her palm, and I wonder what caused it. Without thought, I press my fingers against it and draw on that light that exists inside me. The cut starts to knit together until it is gone, and the skin looks normal again.

Mama stares at her palm, curling her fingers into it. I open her hand up. There’s no sign any injury existed. “It’s gone now,” I say.

The kiss Mama presses on my forehead seems to last longer than normal, and I feel the emotion in it. It makes my tears want to fall, but I keep them locked away. “You can’t do that when we’re around others,” she warns.

“I won’t.”

“Try to sleep, my precious girl.”

My eyes are gritty and tired, but I’m too alert to sleep. I close them anyway, listening to the sounds of Mama moving around until I finally succumb to the pull of slumber.

Voices pull me awake, and I blink, trying to claw at consciousness. The room wobbles before coming into focus.

Mama is standing in front of the window, a blonde-haired woman in front of her. I can only see the back of her, but both their bodies are tense. A discrete sniff of the air tells me the other woman is a wolf, the very thing Mama told me to run from, but Mama doesn’t look scared or like we should escape, so I don’t panic either.

But she is angry.

“You owe me this.” Mama’s words are terse as she spits them out. “You owe him this too!”

“Think what you’re asking me to do, Kinsley,” the other woman hisses at her. “The risk—”

“Don’t you dare talk to me about risk!”

Mama’s gaze suddenly snaps to me, and her anger softens. “Halle.” She comes to the side of the bed and pulls the covers back. The cooler air pebbles my bare legs, my nightdress doing little to ward off the chill. “Put your coat on,” she orders.

“Hold on, wait a minute, I haven’t said yes,” the woman says.

As she turns to face me, I take her in. Her blonde hair is different from Mama’s red, and her blue eyes are so pale they look like granite. They are not green like mine, which Mama says are like emeralds.

“You have to do this, Adeline. You know what will happen if you don’t.”

Adeline drags her fingers through her hair, a frantic movement that makes me feel uneasy. Why are they both so upset?

Mama grabs my coat, helping me into it. I struggle to find the arms, but she’s gentle as she guides me to them, which is at odds with how outraged she seems.

“I know that. Just... Just let me think.” Adeline stares at me, and I struggle to understand the look that crosses her face.

After a moment, she closes her eyes and blows out a breath. “I can’t.”

It’s the wrong thing to say because the rage that comes from Mama makes the room feel small. “She’s your kin!”

Kin.

Family.

I peer over at the woman, wondering who she is to Mama. If she’s kin, this is the first time I’ve met her. Why didn’t I know about her before?

Come to think of it, I’ve met none of my family, though I’ve never wondered why. It never seemed important. I’ve always had Mama, and that’s all that ever mattered.

Even so, I look at Adeline, trying to see similarities in our features, and I decide her nose is a little like mine. She has a gap in her front teeth too, but that’s it.

Adeline averts her gaze as if she can’t bear to meet Mama’s eyes. “It’s not that simple, and you know it. The collective good of the pack has to come first— ”

Moving fast, Mama grabs her by the front of her coat and shakes her like a dog would a toy. Shocked, my hands fly to cover my mouth.

Adeline’s fingers elongate into claws, and I brace, ready to defend Mama if necessary. I might not be able to shift yet, but I’m not going to sit by while Adeline hurts her.

Mama doesn’t let her go, and Adeline doesn’t move to strike her. The two of them lock eyes, their fury simmering beneath the surface.

Finally, it’s Mama who speaks. “If you won’t do this for me or Halle, do it for your brother. You loved him once. Halle is part of him!”

Silence fills the room, suffocating and oppressive. My wolf pup paces inside my mind, whimpering. Even she senses the atmosphere. It feels like everyone is holding their breath, myself included. Fumbling for Teddy, I pull him against me, clinging to him as if he can protect me.

Adeline’s jaw tightens. “Fine, I’ll take her, but Kinsley, you know what I’m going to have to do to keep her with me.”

Those words sound scary, and the way Mama closes her eyes, pain rippling across her face, makes a shiver run up my spine.

What is she going to do to me?

Mama wipes her hand over her mouth, and her eyes open. “Whatever it takes.”

“There’s no going back once it’s done,” Adeline warns.

“I know.” Mama swipes at her cheeks. Silvery trails run down either side as she crouches in front of me, her hands cupping my face. “My little Halle.”

My brows knit together. “Why are you crying, Mama?”

She forces a smile and stands. “Just know, whatever happens, I will always love you.” Her voice is thick, the emotion making my gut churn uncomfortably.

“I love you too, Mama,” I say, meaning every word. For so long, it has just been the two of us, and part of me resents this woman, this stranger, for getting between that, even if she is kin.

Mama smiles, but the sadness remains in her eyes. “You won’t understand why this has to happen, but I hope one day you can forgive me.” Those vague words make little sense to me. Why would I need to forgive her? “You’re special, Halle. You were born special.” Her tongue darts out to wet her dry lips. “People will tell you that you’re not, but they’re wrong. You are an incredible gift to this world.”

My brows draw down. “I don’t understand,” I admit, a hint of a sob catching in my throat.

“It’s okay, baby. You don’t need to.” She straightens and wipes her face with her fingers. “This is your aunt, Adeline. She’s your father’s sister.”

Mama’s never talked about my daddy, so my gaze snaps toward the woman who is his kin. As I scan her face, I try to imagine her with male features, wondering if that’s what he looks like. “Am I going to meet him?” I ask, my voice small and filled with a mix of fear and excitement.

“No, baby. Your dad is… um… not with Adeline.” I want to ask questions, find out where he could be, but Mama steers me toward my aunt. “She’s going to take care of you.”

I don’t understand what ‘take care of you’ means, but from the way Mama is acting, I can sense it’s not a good thing.

Stepping back, I clutch Teddy to my chest. “No.”

Mama blows out a breath. “Be a brave girl.”

I should, but I can’t. I throw my arms around her, clinging to her waist, my head pressed against her body. “No, Mama. I want to stay with you.”

Mama runs her fingers through my hair, soothing me like she does when I’m trying to sleep. “It’s only for a short time. We’ll be back together before you know it.”

I can sense the lie in her tone, but I don’t know why she’s lying to me.

“Mama.” My voice cracks, and she swallows hard.

“I love you. Now go.” Her hand on my back, she pushes me toward Adeline. I want to dig my heels in, resist, refuse to move, but I do nothing.

I glance back at Mama as Adeline straightens her spine. “Come on. We need to leave and quickly before those hunters find us.”

Hunters…

A shiver travels up my spine, making my neck tight as it settles around my nape. I want to ask questions, but Adeline grabs my hand and tugs me toward the door. I stumble, trying to glance back at Mama, a cry escaping my mouth.

I see her turning away as if she can’t bear to watch me leave while Adeline drags me out of the room and into the cold air. It’s daytime now, though I have no idea what time it is.

The car she sits me in is nicer than anything Mama has driven before, with leather seats and the scent of fresh linen filling the space. Closing the door, Adeline moves around to the driver’s side and climbs in as I stare at the motel room where I left Mama.

I’m never going to see her again.

That thought drifts across my mind and makes my chest tighten as if bands are wrapped around my ribs.

Glancing toward Adeline as she starts the truck up, I cling to Teddy. “Where are we going?” I ask.

“To someone who can help,” is her answer.

As she drives out of the parking lot, I twist in my seat to look out the back window. Mama is standing in the doorway, watching us drive away. The last thing I see before we turn the corner is her dropping to her knees and burying her head in her hands.

I face forward, my heart hurting. I don’t want to see Mama sad or suffering, and I don’t want to be the reason for it. Somehow, I know I am, though. I caused this—whatever this is.

The silence in the cab is stifling, but I don’t break it, and Adeline does not talk to me, either. There are no offers of comfort or reassurance, and for the first time in my life, I feel alone, despite the animal inside my mind.

I stare out the window, watching the landscape pass us by, trying to stifle the sob that wants to escape my mouth. Crying won’t fix anything, but I want to let go of the emotions strangling me. There’s a hollowness blooming inside my chest that I can’t disperse.

Eventually, I speak. “Do you know where my daddy is?”

Adeline stiffens, her chin lifting slightly. “What did Kinsley tell you about him?”

I think back, trawling my mind for any conversation we have ever had about him, but there’s just emptiness. “Nothing.”

She blows out a breath. “Figures. Your father’s gone, Halle. He died six months after you were born trying to protect—” She breaks off and shakes her head as if clearing the fog from her thoughts. “I’m sorry. It’s too hard to talk about.”

There’s an ugly, unpleasant feeling spreading through me, and I don’t like it. “Protect what?”

“Nothing. Why don’t you find something on the radio to listen to?”

The change of direction doesn’t distract me. “Protect what?” I repeat.

“Protecting you and your mother.” The words are snapped out, harsh and brutal. “My brother died because of you both.”

It’s as if she’s hit me across the face. The pain that goes through me knowing I killed my father is indescribable. I might only be eight years old, but I know what that means. I understand the accusation in her voice.

“I—I killed my dad?”

My voice catches as the sob bubbles up my throat. I’m not sure why I’m crying for someone I have never met, but the pain makes it hard to breathe.

Adeline’s breath shudders out of her as she tries to regain control. The haunted look in her eyes terrifies me. “I shouldn’t have said it like that, but you deserve the truth, Halle. He’s dead because of what you and Kinsley are.”

What we are? What does that mean?

“Because of the wolf inside us?” I weep.

“No.” She scrubs a hand over her face. “He was a wolf, too. You are... something different.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips, but she keeps her silence.

I don’t want to know what I am, not if it causes people around me to die. I don’t ask any more questions, and Adeline doesn’t offer answers either. I don’t know what any of it means, and I want my mama.

The sun is setting when she pulls off the highway. I sit up straighter, rubbing my eyes. Nothing looks familiar, but Adeline drives as if she has taken this route many times.

I peer out of the side window, unease sloshing in my belly. Mama wouldn’t have let me leave with Adeline if she didn’t trust her, right?

The town she drives us through is small and pretty, but everything is bathed in a bloody red from the sunset.

When she stops the car, I expect to see another motel or a diner, but it is a house. It has two stories with a porch on the front and flower beds that are filled with sleeping bushes and shrubs waiting for the spring. Blue siding covers the walls, and there’s a mailbox next to the sidewalk.

Adeline cuts the engine and takes a breath. “Come on,” she says, climbing out of the car.

I follow, stepping onto the sidewalk and peering up at the house. My wolf paws at the confines of my mind, wanting me to run, but Adeline comes around and takes my hand before I can react.

She leads me up the path and up the three steps that lead onto the porch before knocking on the door. The grip on my hand is tight, like a band of steel holding me in place. I peer up at the woman Mama says is kin, wondering what we’re doing here.

My thoughts scatter as the door opens, and I’m surrounded by a feeling of pressure pushing against my chest.

Power .

I can feel it swirling around her, and it nearly drives me to my knees. Her gaze slides from Adeline to me, and as soon as she locks eyes with me, she tilts her head to the side.

“You brought a tau to my doorstep?” the woman demands. Her accent is not one I’ve heard before, but she does not speak like me or Adeline, even though her words are English. She has amber-colored eyes, and her dark hair is braided. There is a hoop through her nose, and she has a pendant around her neck of a tree with thick branches. She’s beautiful, but I can sense the danger emanating from her, too.

“I need your help, Delphine.”

“No, I’m not standing in the way of wolf politics. Tau wolves are not witch business.”

Neither of them explains what a tau wolf is, but the weight of the word makes me feel dirty, polluted.

Wrong.

Am I those things?

Am I a tau wolf?

“Not even the witch part?” Adeline says.

“I can’t help you. I’m sorry.”

Delphine tries to close the door, but Adeline presses a hand against the frame, stopping it from shutting fully. Her touch is light, but Delphine tries to shove it closed and can’t. Her mouth pulls into a sneer. “I’m not one of your wolf pack. You can’t order me to do what you want.”

“I’m not ordering anything,” Adeline snaps back, then softens her tone. “She’s my niece. Please help us. I have money. Lots of it. I’ll pay whatever you want.”

Delphine glares at her. “Ten thousand.”

“Done.”

She narrows her eyes. “If anyone finds out I’m involved—”

“No one will know,” Adeline assures her.

Her gaze casts to the side, her jaw tightening, and I wait for her to turn us away.

“What am I doing?” she mutters. “Don’t make me regret this.” Delphine steps aside, and Adeline’s palm on the small of my back forces my feet to move.

The door shutting behind me feels like a cell locking, and I glance back as my chance to escape disappears.

My eyes are everywhere as I take in the rooms we pass through. Strange knick-knacks are covering every surface, and the smell of something pungent clings to the air. I wrinkle my nose as Delphine leads us into a large kitchen. It’s nicer than the kitchen Mama and I had, big and bright with white cabinets and a view over the yard.

“What do you want from me, Adeline?” Delphine leans her hands on the island in the middle of the room.

The look that crosses Adeline’s face makes me shiver. My wolf wants me to run, urges me to with a desperate whine. I glance at the doorway, which Adeline is blocking.

“I need you to bind her magic.”

I stop considering escape as my head snaps toward my aunt.

Magic?

I have magic?

The perfectly arched brow that Delphine raises does nothing to calm me. “She’s a child.”

“I want to keep her alive.”

Delphine shakes her head. “You want me to take away the thing that makes her who she is?”

Adeline closes her eyes as her shoulders sag. “The Order of the Crescent Moon is searching for her.”

I’ve never heard that name before, but I’m hit with a sinking sensation in the pit of my stomach the moment I do.

What is the Order of the Crescent Moon? And what do they want with me?

Delphine lets out a noise in the back of her throat that sounds somewhere between a groan and a sigh. “And you think binding her will help?”

“It’s the only option we have. I know this goes against everything you stand for, but Delphine, she’s an innocent child. She doesn’t deserve to die for what she is. ”

There is a desperation in Adeline’s expression, even as Delphine remains emotionless. I don’t understand the stakes, but part of me realizes they are high.

I want to ask what I am and about this magic, but Delphine’s amber eyes snap toward Adeline. She says something in a language I don’t understand, but I hear the frustration in her words.

“Delphine,” Adeline speaks her name softly.

“ Merde . If I do this, it can’t be undone.”

“I know. Do it anyway.”

I glance between the two adults, a dark feeling spreading through my veins. What are they going to do to me?

“Sit on the stool, mon trésor. ” When I don’t move, Adeline pushes me forward, and I slide onto the stool in front of the breakfast bar. “Hold her shoulders.” This is said to my aunt, who grips me tight enough to leave marks on my skin. “I’m sorry, but when you wake, you won’t remember what I did to you.”

She places her hands on either side of my head and mutters something under her breath.

Pain explodes through my skull, a crushing agony that has me seeing white flashing lights. I’ve never felt anything like it, and it leaves me gasping for breath as a thousand pinpricks stab my head. My vision swirls and only Adeline’s hands on my shoulders keep me from slumping off the seat.

“Mama!” I call for her, my voice ravaged as I scream the word, but there is no one—no one is coming for me, no one is going to save me.

“Hurry up,” Adeline begs, but Delphine doesn’t. She keeps her hands locked on the sides of my head, continuing to speak words I don’t understand.

My brain feels as if it is being pulled out of my eyes. Every inch of me aches fiercely, and my chest is so tight I can hardly pull in air. Jolting back, I try to pull away from the agony infusing my head, but I can’t move. They won’t allow it.

It feels like something is being torn inside me. My wolf growls and whimpers, but I can do nothing to comfort her; I don’t even know how to comfort myself. Delphine is trying to kill me. That is how it feels. My body is electrified, my heart is pounding, and blood is rushing through my system, trying to save me from the threat it faces.

There is no saving, though.

Whatever Delphine is doing is working. There is a part of my brain that is awake and fighting back. She subdues it quickly. “ Je suis désolée, ” she mutters.

It is as if someone turns the lights off. My brain wipes completely, like an eraser moving over a chalkboard. I reach for a memory, for anything, but my mind is empty.

Fear clogs my throat.

Where am I?

Who are these people?

Who am I?

The woman behind me releases her crushing grip on my shoulders, and I wince as blood rushes to the area.

“Halle?” she says as I blink, trying to clear my cloudy vision. “Halle?” she repeats, and I realize she’s talking to me .

“I’m Halle?”

My gut swirls and ice fills my belly. Nothing is familiar, and that terrifies me.

“You took everything?” the blonde woman behind me hisses.

“I can’t control what is taken. You wanted it done. Now it is done. Wolves,” she mutters, “never satisfied.”

She doesn’t elaborate on whatever she’s done, and I don’t ask. The blonde woman comes to stand in front of me, bending down so she’s at eye level. “I’m Adeline, and I’m your aunt. You’re safe now, I promise.”

These words are given freely and with a smile, but still dread slithers through me.

Safe from what?