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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Run, the familiar itch to throw caution to the wind and leave my life behind returned. Resisting the desire to roll my eyes at the urge's less than opportune timing, I begrudgingly lugged my body out of the chilly lake.
As I began to wring the excess water out of my cloak, the voice in my head did not relent, run before you get caught.
Scowling, the doubt in the voice made me falter: what if there was some truth to the rising seeds of doubt planted in my mind? What if it really was a matter of time before I got caught?
I could not deny the thrill of taking up arms against one of the biggest Alphas in the world caused a boost to my ego. My ego which had never been very large, to begin with. It was par for the course when all eyes were on my older brother. Growing up in Apollo's shadow, I was not afforded the same luxuries or opportunities that were thrust on him.
After the death of our parents, his time was often spent under Byron's guiding hand. Not only had Byron declared Apollo as his Alpha in Waiting, but he had also been declared Apollo's legal guardian. Of course, when taking on the guardianship of Apollo, I did not entirely fall to the wayside. Likewise, I was also under the guardianship of Alpha Byron. However, no amount of paperwork or pseudo-parentship could make up for the fact I did not have the Alpha Gene running through my veins.
While Alpha Byron made sure I was provided for by the remaining adult figures in the pack, my lack of Alpha Gene often meant I was left to my own devices. It did — in some cases — have its perks. With both of Byron's eyes heavily centered around Apollo, I was able to march to the beat of my own drum as long as that drum was not trying to run away from the pack.
But, that time spent left to my own devices meant many of my skills were self-taught. Being an Enforcer did mean I had some basic training, but I was no Warrior. Enforcers were there for the first line of defense before the Warriors and other higher-up pack members could make their way to the action; I was well endowed in the knowledge of distracting my target, but I was not likewise as well versed in hand-to-hand combat.
Surely tonight proved I would need to take a deeper look into my tactics. My trusty blades would only be able to protect me for so long. Gritting my teeth before I exhaled deeply, I continued my trek out of the lake.
As the water began to rush off my body, now only about ankle deep, a hollow voice made itself known. "Going somewhere?"
Whipping my body around, feet splashing, I surveyed the patch of unkempt grass surrounding the lake. A small clearing adjoined the side of the lake, opposite the cliff. Not far off from the overgrown clearing was the resurgence of sprawling trees. As I narrowed my eyes for better concentration, there was not a soul in sight.
Extending my neck, I purposefully pried my ear free from the hood of my cloak in hopes of pooling my attention towards finding where the foreign voice belonged — if there had even been a voice in the first place. Either my senses were beginning to crumble or my brain was deteriorating because all I could hear was the subtle scurrying of squirrels rummaging about the land.
