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MORGAN
Another day. Another useless day, doing nothing.
Samara had yet to speak to me since I’d left the warehouse. And even after I got Asana’s stupid journal for her. I had to wait until they disappeared from the warehouse and used my magic to break in when the wolves had changed. I knew if Ember and Emily were there, they would sense it, and Griffin would know my scent. Fortunately, Samara’s Trusted knew when they had left, and I’d slipped inside unnoticed. Once inside, it was easy to find; that stupid bitch just left it in her sock drawer.
I met up with some random goon to hand it over because Samara couldn’t meet with me in person. After everything I’d done for her, and she couldn’t even come and get it herself?
Without Samara to help me, I couldn’t trust going back to the bar. Hopefully, Samara really would burn the world because after being away from my bar for so long, who knew the sorry state it was in? There’d be no way I could reopen anytime soon.
I was being punished so I had no support from Samara, and nowhere to go. However, even though I’d failed to kill Emily, I had redeemed myself by stealing the journal. For that reason, Samara said she wouldn’t kill me. She might as well have, though, because freezing me out was brutal.
After escaping from the warehouse, I’d run off to the Black Hole; to the one person I knew would help me.
Lucas.
I begged him to let me hide out with him for a while, ride out the storm. And he was happy to oblige, happy to have the company. I’d been staying there ever since, holed up in his tiny apartment.
Conveniently, his apartment was located within the Black Hole, in a place many didn’t know existed, reserved for only certain individuals who stayed at the Black Hole. It baffled me that anyone would want a permanent residence here, but hey, business is business.
I must admit, though, having a secret entrance to a secret apartment complex did wonders for lying low. You had to have a special key, and when you stuck it into a small hole in the brick wall—a hole many assumed was just worn and dated bricks—it opened to a large building that only the keyholder could see. Once you passed through the brick-like portal, you were in.
When I first arrived, I’d come out with Lucas to help sell potions and poisons. But I saw Emily and her gang of mutts in here earlier today, and after nearly being spotted, I’d kept to myself in his apartment.
I was too afraid to be spotted, which only pissed me off more. What was I afraid of? Emily and her gaggle of dipshits?
A pang in my chest reminded me how close I’d been to one of those dipshits. But Griffin made his decision, and it wasn’t me. And you know the saying, “If you aren’t with me, you’re against me.”
But damn! Why did Griffin have to be against me?
I loved him, and he betrayed me for some stupid blonde tramp? He’d rather share a mate with a disgusting fleabag than have me to himself?
Not only was he an idiot, but he was a traitor, too.
I glanced in the mirror before pulling off my clothes to shower. Man, did I look like crap. My hair was disheveled and sloppy. The bags under my eyes had aged me ten years. I looked like one of those crazy homeless cart ladies you see by the supermarket.
The warm water beat against my skin too hard. I hated the water pressure here, it felt like the shower was trying to kill me, and I already had enough threats—no need to add a shower to the mix.
Hello, my child.
Well, that was a voice I recognized. A voice that I was both relieved and anxious to hear.
“Samara,” I replied, not caring if Lucas returned to the apartment to hear me talking to myself.
Was I bitter? Hell yes, I was bitter! She threw me to the wolves—literally!
“I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me?” I asked in a haughty tone.
My darling child, I always knew you were special. It was why I didn’t kill you. But you failed to fulfill your task and needed to be punished. I told you, I don’t tolerate failure.
I scoffed. “So, what? My time is up? I’m released from jail now? Oh, goody!” I said with sarcasm dripping from my tongue like the water from the shower.
We’ve no time for pettiness. A new threat has made an appearance. I have an essential mission for you.
She’s using me. I knew it—was well aware—yet I couldn’t stop myself from grasping for her approval. It’s what the snowflakes of this generation would call a toxic relationship. And like the little lamb sent off to slaughter, I walked straight into the lion’s mouth.
“What do you need me to do?”
