BAD DECISIONS

"Avery?" I see Astrid, the Alpha-to-be, coming toward me. "How on earth have you been? This way," he says, removing his jacket and hurling it at me.

"Shift back."

He speaks with such a demanding tone and a hint of annoyance. As though I am genuinely offended that I made him go to all the trouble to find me. As if I was the one who chose to be carried off into the woods by the tyrant.

In disgust, I give the jacket the same scowl that I give him.

I am stuck with his clothes, as disgusting as it is to think of wearing them. I would have to talk in order to learn what he and his father are planning.

I bite into the jacket, then give him a sharp glare until he gets the hint and turns around. My body is overcome by the well-known feeling of my bones cracking, changing shape, and then coming back together. I am back on two legs in a matter of seconds, my blonde hair blowing in the wind and brushing the small of my back.

Astrid knows to turn around when she hears the zipper click. To get the jacket to cover everything, I have to bend over and tug at it, which puts me in an uncomfortable half-crouching, half-standing position.

What is the issue? With an ignorant smirk, he asks. At least he has the convenience of pants.

Without thinking, I say, "Looking at it," glaring him in the eye to make my point.

His smug demeanour abruptly gives way to annoyance as he growls.

"Stop even bringing up your fucking attitude with me. Please move your ass so that we can leave. Three days from now is the new date for the wedding, and I can not stand up there by myself." His face abruptly darkens and takes on a frighteningly serious air.

My jaw drops. After all that's happened, and he's still pushing this?

His slow approach, which makes me think of a snake observing its meal, becomes more apparent as he gets closer.

"Avery, I was promised certain things. And I am completely expecting to receive those items.

The thought of whatever "things" that could be going through his sick head makes my skin crawl.

"There will not be a wedding, as I already informed you," I growl, casting a shadow over my own irises.

A cunning gleam appears in his eye as he smiles. Furthermore, my father has already warned you of the consequences if you don't. Nobody would be able to visit you down there, including me."

His words make my stomach drop. Up until now, I had completely forgotten about that threat. There is not really a winning scenario to pick from. In one scenario, I would be coerced into an immoral union, and in the other, I would be stuck with a psychotic partner who might merely seek to hold me captive until I return to my group. And I would be starting over from scratch.

The mere proximity of Astrid to me causes me to feel vulnerable and tense. If everything went according to plan, there would be no problem. We received the same instruction as children, picking apart and taking advantage of each other's shortcomings. But from now on, one mistake and I will be as good as nude.

Just when I start to feel panicky, we both jump at the sound of a snarl so strong the floor trembles beneath us.

With huge saucer-sized eyes, Astrid appears motionless. His expression looks like he is staring at me for a moment, but then I realise he is just staring over my shoulder.

I am behind Evans now. As he stalks past the trees, his claws leave deep scars, dragging his flexed fingertips over the bark. Huge fangs, capable of tearing flesh from bone with a mere graze, protrude from behind his open mouth.

His dark eyes sparkle with a deep ruby red that reminds me of the colour I was when I jumped out of the trees the evening of the ceremony. They have a frightening, eerie quality about them. One important thing about them that I can not help but notice is that those eyes are the eyes of the wolf that lives inside of him.

When they touch me, I get a chill down my spine. The jacket around me, specifically.

My throat is full of words that I want to say, but they are jumbled. A big figure is on top of me and throwing my back against the ground before I can even blink.

He rips at the seams, making the fabric scream. His long claws tear it to shreds until nothing remains to hide my shame, leaving me feeling vulnerable and icy.

My legs are crossed to hide what little is visible, and my arms rise to cover my chest.

More than anything, I instinctively roll into a ball and hide my stomach. Though my private parts are equally at risk, covering my stomach still comes naturally to me.

With timidity, I glance up to see Evans looming over me. He quickly drops his shirt and pulls it over his head.

It sloppily landed on me.

His body seemed to tell a story as he extended his arms above his head. His smooth skin revealed more details the further the shirt went. His left pec was covered in three long, claw-shaped scars that ran diagonally across it. He may be flawed, but his sculpting is still superior to that of a Greek statue; with each movement, his well-defined muscles glide beneath his skin.

I rip my eyes apart as I notice a drop of saliva beginning to form in the corner of my mouth.

A foolish companion bond.

I hold onto the shirt for dear life without thinking twice. It is not quite a complete ensemble, but it is still preferable to nothing.

Evans is no longer interested in me, so I prepare myself to find those beautiful and terrifying eyes burning into mine. Rather, Astrid becomes the centre of his focus.

Like a lion torturing its prey for its own amusement, he approaches him very slowly. However, there is absolutely nothing amusing about him. His body exudes a dense stream of anger that could easily break anyone's nerves, including his pampered little brat.

Like the last time I saw him, Astrid has a pale face. Astrid is taking back every step Evans takes forward. It dawns on him eventually that there is nowhere to go. His attitude seems to be influenced by the wind, so it is likely that the initial fear has subsided.

"You are the idiot who showed up at my party. A vein in Astrid's neck begins to twitch as he growls, "Tried to take my pack." Something I recognize all too well.

He stops and looks at me and then back at Evans before resuming his active threat. "I would like her to return." I will pay you whatever you want, but I will bring her along."

Then, the courteous tone in his voice disappears, as soon as every conversation reaches the halfway point. The tone then turns mocking, "I understand that being alone in exile can be lonely, but find your own Luna." I have this one taken."

The entire world seems to quiet down as everyone waits to see what is next. My heart thumping in my ears, I take a deep breath.

The quiet before the madness.

Evans becomes rigid.

Astrid sags in emotion.

The storm then gets really bad.

A wild growl rips from his throat, startling me with the primal sense of impending doom. That is not something I have to worry about, though.

In an instant, Evans's knuckles have broken the dam, causing blood to shoot out of Astrid's nose. I cringe again as his neck twists at an odd angle and there is a loud, resonant pop. But things do not stop there. Even when Evans is straddling him on the ground, he still keeps hitting him. Eating more fists than he deflects, Astrid struggles beneath him in the end.

Evans's back has a bumpy ridge where the spine rises and presses against the skin. A warning indication of the impending shift.

I get a shock of electricity and alarms go off at the sight. He was a wolf the last time I saw him, but his irises were only black. For the most part, he was in control. For them, though, the red glow has a completely different meaning. Something I wish not to observe.

"Evans!!!" Before I can stop it, there is a scream so unexpected that my voice breaks midway through.

What I perceived as meaningless yelling caused my wolf to stop dead, so perhaps he knows something that I do not. Halfway to Astrid's face, his fist stops abruptly.

Evans quickly turns his head to face me, alert and focused. With wild eyes, he seems to be looking for more adversaries. He then looks down at his victim and back at me, as if he has finally realised what he has done.

He accelerates his approach to me and, without even pausing, picks me up off the ground. Feeling as though he does not sense the spark between us, he looks straight ahead while cradling me just like he used to.

I try peeking over Evans's shoulder as I take long strides, my heart hammering against my sternum.

Could he be...?

With a loud growl, Evans lowers his arms and obscures my view, obscuring my vision.

His bare chest exudes cosiness and warmth. Unknowingly, I find myself curling up into him, my wolf hankering after the feeling of security he provides.

I am intrigued because his scars are now right next to my face. I start to trace them gently with my finger, allowing it to feel the shape of the injured tissue.

My touch causes his body to tense, but he will not admit it. Smothering any response, his jaw clenched tight.

I put my hand down in my lap, showing mercy. That would be a bad idea to push his wolf again. It is a terrible one, in fact. I certainly do not need to learn the hard way what Astrid may have discovered.

I sighed softly and rested my head on his collarbone.

"It's Avery!”