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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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.

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

spine. I can’t even step away as my brain struggles to catch up to the situation, watching as he reaches behind him to

umu’ve hoon nloving princess thinki

3 Ava: Danger

as a mate.” His voice drips with malice as he steps forward, slapping a hand against my

dull thump, and Todd’s hand circles my neck, lifting me until I’m

to the floor, and for a moment my idiot brain

be bruised. We’ll have to eat them

makes you think you’re good enough for the gala, huh? You think you can ever escape our pack?” His breath

against my cheek, forcing me to face him again. He growls every word, rejoicing as they stab into all my insecurities, bleeding me of all those precious hopes and dreams I’ve kept in secret. “Do you actually believe anyone

pounds against my ribcage, a trapped bird desperate for escape. His grip tightens in response

3 Ava: Danger

as I begin to pant for

bile rushing into my throat, making it even harder to bring air to my burning lungs. Punches, kicks, scratches–those,

try to kick, but he steps in closer, pinning my legs against the wall

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 beta

gala is just around the corner. If his youngest daughter showed up with bruises all over, there might

hesitates, his fingers flexing around the tender

3 Ava: Don

every abuse thrown my way and plotting revenge.

can give him it all day long. Whatever lets me live

a little vibrato, as though I want to cry. I tilt my head further back, baring my neck to him.

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, slow drag of

fish.

force, but I

other hand falls to my hip, tugging me closer, and I close

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metallic tang behind my jaw. “I need to

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 attempt to escape, writhing against

grips my jaw, staring into my eyes, and I realize then that the game has

a beating, but instead my tormentor grins at me

white horse among our packs. There’s nothing to save you at the gala. You’ll be our little omega breeder soon enough, even

falls to my feet. “Omega…

jaw harder. “You’ll be our little pack whore, Ava. Even without a wolf.” The relief when he lets go is replaced only by a horror as

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down my neck, between my breasts, and rests gently against my belly, pushing in, before sliding a little farther to cup between my thighs and squeeze. “You won’t be good for much else, but at least we can fill this with little

up. I can’t even feel most of my body anymore. Everything is dark around the edges, but his words keep slithering into my ear, poison to

on my jaw, leaving a trail of slime. “You’re lucky enough to be a pretty little defect, Ava. It won’t be too hard to use you.” He groans, rocking faster