I was trained to fight. To bleed. To endure.
No one trained me for them. 

The Black Wolves don't ask. They raid. They take.

And when their Alpha looked at me—really looked—I felt it before I understood it.

The brand on my skin isn't a warning.

It's a claim.

I'm a Phalanx Guard. I don't belong to anyone.

Except now I do.

And the worst part?

Some part of me already knew running was never going to save me.

♥