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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After agreeing to stay in Solaris — where it was probable I would live out the rest of my days — Ezra informed me I would be moving to the room opposite his. It was his personal guest room, which was his exact words except delivered with a subtle tilt of the eyebrow.
In agreeing to not return home, Ezra took this as a sign of my willingness to find a cure — or at least, a way to postpone my Feral symptoms. I did not have the heart to tell him I had not actually agreed to anything of the sort. Instead, I listened to him recount everything — word for word — Greg had told us just hours earlier as I settled into the guest room.
I did not have to do a lot in ways of settling into the cozy guest room. All I had to do was march over to Ezra's room, pick up my bag, and then carry the bag to the large closet. After a rather intense prep session, I managed to convince myself to take the time to hang each of the articles of clothing I brought with me.
I didn't know how long I'd be here, and I did not want to continue the constant feeling of never being home — like I was always on the move.
The guest room was small. It was tiny, but it still managed to be bigger than both the living room/bedroom combination I had back at my apartment. A large, wooden bed rested in the center of the room. On each corner of the bed, pillars erupted from the bedframe, guarding the bed like a prisoner. Wispy curtains hung from the pillars. Two matching nightstands accompanied the bedframe. The rest of the space was left open for the two french doors that opened up to a small balcony.
After Ezra winded himself from talking so much, he said goodnight before shutting the door behind him. Letting out an exasperated sigh, I preoccupied my time with a cooling shower, putting on a matching set of pajamas.
Once ready for bed, I nestled underneath the covers, waiting for sleep to transport me to a better reality than the one I was faced with, but I had no such luck. Just the knowledge that the wall behind my head was shared with Ezra's room was enough to keep me up.
My wolf wanted me to throw the blankets off my body and return to Ezra's bed, the same bed I slept in last night.
I can't, I scoffed to myself. I'm not that desperate... yet.
Maybe my tune would change when my symptoms became more noticeable. It had been a decent amount of time since I last had any alarming symptoms — the headache and later a nosebleed.
Maybe my body was naturally fighting off my brother's blood. We were, after all, related; maybe that had something to do with it. Maybe that had something to do with why I wasn't fully overtaken by my brother's blood yet. However, I could not be so sure since I had minimal knowledge of how anything related to science worked.
Not liking my defiance, my wolf would not let me rest, trying to claw to the surface of my subconscious. Shuffling my feet back and forth, I tried my best to occupy my mind with other thoughts. In the process, I hardly noticed I had bitten a large partition of my nail clear off my thumb. Shrugging my shoulders, I switched the nail I was biting to not make my finger bed so tender.
