OVER HERE!

It comes to an abrupt halt. After a few seconds of silence, the action resumes. Something is ramming into the bedroom door. As it gives way, a sharp crack of wood snapping can be heard.

I scramble for the clothes on the counter and put them on quickly, an oversized white v-neck and black sweatpants hanging loosely around my hips. My frantic hands fumble with the drawstring, pulling it tight only to release it again.

The banging has become much louder and is now coming from the bathroom door. I barely get it knotted before the only thing standing between me and whatever the hell is out there falls to the ground.

A bleach blond storms in, his alert eyes scanning the room before settling on me.

"She is right here!" He shouts over his shoulder before returning his gaze to me.

His face is vaguely recognizable, and the ring in his ear matches mine. He is from my pack, but I can not recall ever speaking with him. In my head, I hear Lila's humorously exasperated voice saying, "That is because you do not speak to anyone."

When all I do is stare, he interrupts the silence. "Astrid instructed us to take you home," he says.

His tone softens and comforts me, so my expression must be deceptive. Like the fear-me-not way you would speak to a crying child.

"It is okay," he says gently, as if he is worried about his words. "He will not get you again."

It finally clicks.

They are attempting to rescue me.

They think I was kidnapped. This is technically correct, but it was done by my friend. Is that even considered?

A short-haired brunette bursts through the doorless doorway, matching the blond's high alertness.

"Get her, and let us go. She barks, "He could be back at any second," before turning and leaving as quickly as she arrived. I am clearly an object to them. Nothing more than a goal in their rescue operation.

The blond moves aside and gestures with his hand in response to her orders.

I look him over with cynicism. It is appalling that they think I would ever want to return. They shunned me, along with the rest of the pack, during my punishment. However, a sense of guilt hangs over me.

I left someone behind. The only person who ever thought about me. As a result, I vanished without saying goodbye.

They will show me the way back, and then I will know where I am. Once I explain this to Lila, I will no longer be required to be present. But how about Evans?

What will he do when he realizes I am gone? It is a crazy idea, irrational at best, but I might be able to make the trip and return before he returns from wherever he is gone.

After biting my lip so hard that it stings, I nod. I follow the boy through the bedroom, stairs, and living room.

I will come back, Evans. Just believe me.

I pause again at the door, as if an invisible force is pulling me to a stop. Something gnaws at my conscience, causing my wolf to whine. I shake my head and push it away as I close the door behind me, following my walking compass.

"How did you know he was gone?" I inquire, my gaze roving over the edge of the forest, where the trees become denser. Three wolves sit in the distance, watching us and our surroundings as hawks. I can not help but feel like that giant, rage-induced wolf will emerge from the shadows, just like the night of the ceremony.

"We have been keeping an eye on the house for quite some time. He left about ten minutes ago, heading the opposite way. There is no need to worry. "You are fine now," the blond assures in a calm, level voice. He was well-trained. I know the comforting tone he uses is phony, but he makes it sound genuine.

"Creep," I mumble quietly.

"Huh?"

I smile. "Lead the way."

As they lead the way I try to lag behind, but not far enough that they'd notice. One of them mentioned it once, to which I excused it as being sleep deprived for the past couple of days. They seemed to believe me.

Every couple of minutes I would scratch the bark off of a tree or stand a stick up against the trunk while they weren't looking. Occasionally I would drag my feet a bit another symptom excused for being awake for too long-turning the leaves up in an obvious manner.

The cabin had been on a flat area on the side of a gigantic mountain, concealed by the trees. Not the mountain, but the cabin. Nothing could hide something that enormous. Even after reaching flat ground, it was a long walk until I began to recognize my surroundings.

When the Visari camp comes into view, the three who remained in their wolf forms kept walking. The blond stops abruptly, turning on me. His expression is completely different, like he took his sleeve and wiped off his stage paint.

His hand grabs my throat, shoving me roughly into a tree. His face is inches from mine, my back pressing into the scratchy bark. I suck in a sharp breath through my teeth.

"You're a terrible liar," he snarls, "I told you we watched the house. That means we saw you getting all cozy with your captor." He tightens his fingers around my neck. "Stockholm syndrome only goes so far, Avery ."

He presses me harder against the tree with his hand, but I refuse to give him the satisfaction of watching me gasp for air.

I put my palm on the arm holding me and extend my claws. With a steady pace I inject them all the more gently into the very muscle fibers.

"Someone likes sniffing everyone’s business but their own," I croak out, grimacing at my burning lungs.

He leers at me, staring holes through my face. He breaks eye contact only to glance at the claws steadily digging into his flesh. As if making a split second decision, he releases me. Gravity pulls me forward, revealing that my feet had been nearly off the ground. When he steps back blood flows from the fresh holes in his arm, dripping onto the dirt.

He acts as though he done me a favor. "Astrid is waiting for you in his office. He doesn't know. I'll let you deal with that."

He pivots on his heel to walk toward the camp with a cocky sway. He turns his head, calling a warning back over his shoulder, although I'm sure it's not meant to help me in any way. "Don't expect to be welcomed with open arms."

I rub the red marks on my neck as I watch him walk away. I stare harshly at his retreating form with hopes of him catching fire, but he never does.

The path I follow through the mountainous terrain of Visari territory is familiar and well traveled. A sense of deja vu washes over me at how many times I've walked through these woods alone.

This is the only place where freedom exists. So I came here to find it. Nobody cared to follow me up the path when I went on my runs, which meant there would be nobody to turn a deaf ear on me or shout orders in my face.

Now I'm just stalling up here, looking down on the small houses nestled in the wintry hollow. The surrounding mountains shield the camp from the weather. That's the thing about the Visari valley. It's protected. Safe.

Which is why Evans Sydney's arrival shook them so much. He's not safe, and not even our beloved mountains could protect us from him.

Taking one last deep breath, I turn off the path and head for the bleak little village below.

...

As I passed pack members the only acknowledgement they showed me were cold stares. None of them said anything, and I did not bother asking why. It feels too similar to the past, and old anxiety rises in my chest.

That blond bitch spread gossip. That is it.

I go to Lila's house first, with that all-too-familiar "screw Astrid, he can wait" attitude. My repeated rapping on the door proves she is not home. Her front porch deck is covered in a light layer of snow. There are no footsteps other than mine, indicating that she has not been here in a long time. That somehow causes a pang of worry in my stomach.

The only reason I returned was for her, and she is no longer present. I am disappointed because this is my last chance to see her. To explain myself to my closest friend.

I stall for a while longer, sitting on her porch bench. I see whirlwinds of snow dance in the distance, manipulated by the breeze.

Time passes, and Lila is still missing.

I have had enough of waiting and decide to rip the bandage off.

When I approach the Alpha's door, I do not knock. I slowly open it, peeking inside before my body follows.

Jaime and Astrid have returned to their home now that Evans has finished renting it out. Their scents completely fill the area, reestablishing their dominance over it. There is no trace of the tyrant left. I am confident they have made certain of it.

Astrid is sitting at his father's office desk when I arrive. If everything had gone as planned, he would have had his own office. He notices my entry and his eyes brighten slightly.

"Avery," he exclaims, relieved. His eyes flicker away from mine, as if he realizes this himself. When they return, his demeanor has changed to that of a businessman.

He opens up a magazine on his desk. "Come and choose your dress."

I cast an enigmatic glance. "Dress?"

"The wedding date has been pushed back to tomorrow. "There is not much time to get everything ready," he gestures up and down my body with his hand, "so we are starting now."

A jolt of agitation passes through me. He is really not letting it go, is he? What more could he possibly want in life than a forced marriage?

"I would slit my own throat before making a single promise to you. Find another bitch to blackmail," I yell, my voice dripping with venom.

I am not sure what is sadder: the scumbag in front of me or the fact that I mean everything I say.

He abruptly stands up from his desk, probably with an aching ego. "Oh, and I suppose you would rather go back to the bastard who dragged you off," he says sarcastically, as if that would make me jump into his arms over the alternative.

Something comes over me, and I feel a sudden surge of rage in my chest. I barely hear my growl before it escapes through my growing canines.

"Are you talking about Evans?"

"Evans," he says bitterly, "that is just one word for him. "That mutt is nothing more than a waste of oxygen."

My fists tighten at my sides. "And you are not?" Ah, that is right. You replace it with the hot air you blow. Aside from that, it appears to me that waste of oxygen kicked your ass pretty easily.

He lets out a low growl that is clearly provoked. It gives me satisfaction to know that I have struck a nerve.

"Why are you defending him?" he asks, despite the fact that he is the one on the defensive. Even from across the room, I can see a prominent vein in his neck.

My arms cross over my chest, and my weight shifts as I cast him a calculating glance.

The natural light that was leaking in through the windows has faded and is now gone. Outside, the sky has turned grey and angry, and soft thunder can be heard in the distance.

"Would not you like to know?" I mock.

He takes a step out from behind his desk, drawing dangerously close. "I would. Are you going to tell me willingly or will there be consequences?"

I can not stop a smirk from appearing on my lips. Something overpowers me, over which I have no control. It is as though my subconscious makes the decision for me.

I will never feel free here. My naive hope that things would work out and return to normal as they were when I was a child has faded. I know how to get out, and he can no longer threaten me.

So I mock him for the first time without considering the punishment that will come later. "What are you going to do?" Is your father sick on me? Because he resolves all of your issues, correct?

This is only the beginning.

"You are right. Yes, I recall. Astrid, ignoring something will not make it disappear. You should have learned that a long time ago, because I am still here."

He does not answer. The storm-casted shadows of the darkened room obscure whatever expression he wears. The atmosphere begins to press down on us, making me feel uncomfortable.

When he does not speak, I quietly but clearly answer his question.

"He is my mate. If you genuinely wanted to know.”