Alessia Stocklin and Ezra Withers are polar opposites, but they can certainly agree on one thing: their mutual hate for each other.
He's an Alpha deadset on killing every rogue he comes across, while she's a vigilante - known as Nightshade - intent...
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I was staring at a wanted poster — my wanted poster.
The Nightshade.
While coming face to face with the reality I was now a wanted woman, I could not help but smirk at the poster. In retaliation to not knowing any identifying features beyond my hooded, black cloak, they conjured up a name for my identity: Nightshade.
The name had a nice ring to it. Nightshade. I took a moment to delight in my growing persona — big enough to warrant a name; it meant my presence was being noticed, and I hoped it would bring awareness to my cause.
Under the guise of my protected identity, I would slip away, unnoticed, in the name of saving innocent rogues. Naturally, word slowly spread of my existence, and I was not welcomed with open arms. In fact, all over the United States, a campaign to outlaw the existence of rogues was taking the nation by force. As a result, many rogues were being captured and tortured in preparation for building a case against them; I was an inconvenience to this inhumane plan. However, in fighting this injustice, I did not anticipate only crossing paths with one Alpha, Alpha Ezra Withers. In doing so, it seemed Ezra finally saw me as more than just a pesky thorn in his side.
The $100,000 price on my head attested to that.
Run, a voice in my head taunted. Run while you still can.
I rubbed my temple, eyes closed, driving the voice out of my mind.
Ever since the fall of my old pack, Meridian, my wolf had — almost daily — been calling out for me to run. At first, the urge was purely something only my wolf wanted. But, over the years, the itch to run festered into an unquenchable, bone-shattering ache; an ache that could only be subdued through rigorous mental strength. Nevertheless, the thought of running to Canada plagued my mind constantly. Yet, no matter my desire, I would never be able to leave my older brother, Apollo, behind.
Apollo was a Natural Born Alpha. Despite not being born into an existing line of Alphas, he came into this world marked with the Alpha Gene. He was destined for greatness, and he needed me by his side, especially with his less-than-stellar track record.
From a rather young age, Apollo — like a moth to a flame — wound up in countless precarious situations. He would find himself injured more often than not — most of the time never really knowing how he got a bump on his elbow or how his back was left slashed open. Our parents were always there to lend a helping hand and disapproving glance at Apollo.
Until one day they weren't.
When our old pack, Meridian, fell, it was also the day our parents died. Apollo and I were all we had in this world. As a result, I would never be able to run freely as I so desperately longed to do, especially with the effort to criminalize rogues underway.
It was selfish, really — me being Nightshade. While I did want to help rogues in a general sense, I couldn't shake the feeling I was truly doing it for myself.
