Tangled

3 Ava: Danger

[WARNING: Sensitive content ahead.]

Days pass with little regard for the anxiety building in my belly every time I crawl into bed at night, watching the phases of the moon, wondering what this next

chapter of life will look like.

Aside from a brief shopping excursion with Jessa–who ignores me almost the entire time and scoffs at every dress I try on–I don’t leave the house except for school and work, trying to avoid trouble.

I spend any spare moment I can manage picking up extra shifts at Beaniverse to help pay for the atrocious bill at the mall. Who spends three hundred dollars on a dress? But Jessa insisted that it was the only one that didn’t make me look like I was wearing a silk potato sack.

Lisa’s busy, too, so our texts are few and far between, mostly complaining about work and school.

My family’s indifference weighs on me like a thick

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3 Ava: Danger

blanket, but beneath it, a tiny bud of hope sprouts- maybe, just maybe, I’ll make it to the gala without incident. A week remains before the event that could change my life, or just as likely, confirm my place as the outcast.

Today, like the rest of the past two weeks, appears to be yet another day of unsettling peace as I head home after class with groceries in my passenger seat.

Phoenix is stopping by for dinner, so I have his favorites on the menu–a creamy garlic and parmesan roasted chicken, paired with bacon–wrapped brussels sprouts tossed in maple syrup and balsamic vinaigrette.

It sounds fancier than it is, but it really is delicious, thanks to the internet recipes I’d found years ago.

As the appointed alpha heir to the Blackwood Pack, Mom always fawns on Phoenix. Dad was thrilled enough that he had a son with alpha potential, but when Alpha Renard’s last son was killed in a small skirmish with renegade wolves and Phoenix was named heir, he strutted more like a peacock than a wolf for at least a month afterward.

3 Ava: Danger

One day he will be Alpha Phoenix Blackwood, but for now, he’s still a Grey.

I juggle the flimsy plastic grocery bags with the grace of a dying fawn as I make my way into the empty house.

The peace of these past few weeks must have rotted the self preservation sphere of my brain, because I don’t pay any attention to my surroundings as I unlock the front door and walk in.

As I step further inside, a breeze tickles my neck and the door slams with a force that can only mean trouble, bringing a familiar and unwelcome scent to my nose.

bully and ever–present tormentor, is here. Inside. With me. Right now. Ready to finish what he’d started a

spine. I can’t even step away as my brain struggles to catch

umu’ve hoon nloving princess thinki

3 Ava: Danger

take you as a mate.” His voice drips with

thump, and Todd’s hand circles my

for a moment my idiot brain

They’ll be bruised. We’ll have to eat them faster than

good enough for the gala, huh? You think you can ever escape our pack?” His breath is hot and tuna fresh on my

every word, rejoicing as they stab into all my insecurities, bleeding me of all

pounds against my ribcage, a trapped bird desperate for

3 Ava: Danger

as I begin to pant for air.

my throat, making it even harder to bring air to my

onto his forearm, scratching long, angry swathes down his skin. I try to kick, but he steps in closer, pinning my legs

to ignore the hard evidence pushing against my belly of exactly how much he’s enjoying this moment. “If any bruises show, Dad’s going to be furious. You really want to piss off your

now the gala is just around the corner. If his

flexing around the tender

3 Ava: Don

my

all day long. Whatever lets me live

vibrato, as though I want to cry. I tilt my head further

through every millimeter of my skin, and I struggle to keep my face blank as he sniffs beneath my left ear, licking the crescent–shaped scar on my neck. in a long,

fish.

with force, but I

just a little. His other hand falls to my hip, tugging me closer, and

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3 Ava: Danger

my jaw. “I need to make dinner.

through me as Todd bites my shoulder, his jaw rigid and unyielding. The shriek that escapes me is beyond my control, and I slap at his shoulder in a frantic

but not before suckling a motherfucking hickey onto my skin. He grips my jaw,

beating, but instead my tormentor grins at me in maniacal satisfaction. “You’ll never

defective piece of shit, but you belong here. There’s no prince on a white horse among our packs. There’s nothing to save you at the gala. You’ll be our

falls to my feet. “Omega… breeder?”

our little pack whore, Ava. Even without a wolf.” The relief when he lets go is replaced only

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sliding a little farther to cup between my thighs and

throwing up. I can’t even feel most of my body anymore. Everything is dark around the

pretty little defect, Ava. It won’t be too hard to use you.” He groans, rocking faster against me, pulling my