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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"You've been summoned," Beta Ichabod knocked on my door.
Blinking the sleep out of my eyes, I asked, "What?"
"Alpha Byron requested your presence in his office," he responded. His head poked through the narrow opening of my door.
"Why?" I inquired further.
Ichabod sighed, eyes narrowed. His light red hair had recently been shaped into a buzz cut, eventuating the freckles that painted his body. "He did not say."
"Couldn't you have mind linked me?"
Ichabod nodded his head, but then said, "Alpha Byron requested I come to get you in person. Now, hurry up. Alpha Byron — and I for that matter — don't have all day."
Grumbling incoherently, I shut my bedroom door, and, in a whirlwind, I managed to dress somewhat appropriately. I ran a quick comb through my hair, did an outfit check in the mirror, and then opened my bedroom door back up. Ichabod had not moved an inch. From the scowl on his face, I could tell he was not thrilled about having to escort me to Byron's office, a place I knew quite well.
With the formality of the meeting with Byron, I was left wondering what he wanted to talk about. He did not seem thrilled yesterday when he discovered it was me who had once again encountered a Feral as if I had somehow planned the whole encounter.
But, if that was the topic of our conversation, he would have a point. If you did not count Apollo, I held the top spot in our pack leaderboard for Feral encounters. It happened twice. Two more times than most members of the pack.
On the other hand, it could also be a beacon to my insurmountable bad luck, which was in surplus these days. Hardly anything went my way these past couple of weeks. To start off, Link found out my identity. I encountered a Feral. I got injured, almost killing me in the process. I found out Ezra was my mate. My pack aligned with Ezra, and then I had yet another Feral encounter. The Moon Goddess was not ruling in my favor.
Whatever the case, I did not walk into Alpha Byron's office with much confidence. I held my head down lower than usual, ready for what was about to come.
As it turned out, my intuition to throw optimism out the door was a good one. Upon entering the office, I could instantly tell Byron was not alone. Ezra's unmistakable scent hovered all throughout the office. Lifting my head, it seemed — finally — my abilities did not betray me: Ezra was in fact in the room.
Suppressing the urge to turn on my heels and flee, I slunk into the room as Beta Ichabod closed the door behind me.
Alpha Byron's office was nothing extravagant. His office was once a study room, but it had been converted into Byron's office when the pack determined the Alpha Wing was too much for a pack of our size to reasonably maintain. Despite being smaller than customary, the space was utilized well. An oak desk stood in the middle of the room, with matching bookshelves on each side. A sole, red chair, angled to the side, rested in front of the desk for the rare visitor; there was a desk chair to match.
