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PROLOGUE
Puritan City lies beneath the night sky, its darkened streets whispering secrets that send a shiver down my spine. I clutch my side in the passenger seat, the pain a bullshit reminder of how close I came to never seeing this city.
Cayenne drives with one hand on the wheel, the other reaching over to give mine a reassuring squeeze. “We’re almost there, Aria,” she says, her voice calm and steady, providing a lifeline in the storm of my thoughts. Without her, I would have died a thousand times over.
I don’t deserve her.
I glance over my shoulder at the darkened street. The oppressive silence presses down on me, amplifying my fear. Being an omega in a world that sees my kind as prey is a daily struggle, a battle I fight with every breath. My scent is masked by the blockers I religiously apply, hiding my true nature beneath layers of deception.
Flipping the visor down, I lift my sunglasses. The black and blue bruises ring my eyes, mocking me. Blood pools in the corner of each eye so it looks like my tears are nothing more than salty blood.
My collarbone is broken again, as well as my left wrist and ten ribs. A bruise covers my torso when I look down. I flip the visor up, unable to look at myself in the mirror.
He beat me within an inch of my life, and somehow, I’m still breathing in a car across the entire continent, and yet it doesn’t feel far enough.
“We’re here,” Cayenne announces as we pull up to my new apartment building. The dim light from a single lamppost casts long shadows on the pavement. It’s run-down, smelly, and damn near dilapidated. Hell, it could be a cardboard box and I wouldn’t care, as long as I’m safe.
I take a deep breath to steady my nerves before stepping out of the car. The air is thick with the scent of wet asphalt and decay, mingling with the faint hint of salt from the nearby harbor. My senses are on high alert, every sound magnified in the quiet night.
Locking the door behind me, I allow myself a moment of respite, but it’s short-lived. The memories of why I’m here claw their way to the surface, bringing Noah’s haunting presence to the forefront of my mind. His face, twisted with possession and anger, is a constant specter in my life. His possessiveness nearly destroyed me, and the scars he left are more than physical. Every night, I relive the nightmare of his grip, his voice, and his rage.
Cayenne notices my trembling hands and steps closer, her eyes filled with concern. “Hey, girl, I’ve got you,” she says, her tone infused with a mixture of determination and warmth. She’s always been my rock, unwavering even in the face of my deepest fears.
I nod, forcing a smile. Reaching into my bag, I pull out a vial of scent suppressant—my salvation in a world that would devour me if given the chance. It’s the only vial I have, and I need it to last until I can figure out how to neutralize my scent. I have to stay strong, remain hidden, and convince the world I’m nothing more than a beta…at least until Noah is caught. Deep down, though, I know my days of running are numbered. He disappeared the moment he heard the sirens.
He left me for dead and ran.
Now I will run as well, until the authorities can do what they do worst—hunt killers. I know the odds aren’t in my favor, so Cayenne, my best friend, packed us up, and we left.
The apartment is small and dingy, but it offers the promise of anonymity. The worn carpet squelches underfoot, the scent of mildew and stale air clinging to the walls. No nest, but that’s okay—I don’t need one. As the first light of dawn begins to creep through the curtains, I close my eyes and allow myself a fleeting moment of hope. I make a silent vow that I will reclaim my life, find the strength to face my fears, and perhaps discover a place where I truly belong. The path ahead is fraught with danger, but I am determined to walk it, no matter the cost.
Cayenne’s arm wraps around my shoulders, pulling me into a comforting hug. “I’ll find him, but until then, welcome to Puritan City,” she says with a confidence that I desperately want to believe.
I lean into her embrace, the weight of my exhaustion pressing down on me. The dawn’s light casts a faint glow on the peeling wallpaper, the cracks in the ceiling, and the frayed edges of the carpet. Despite its flaws, this place represents a new beginning.
Yeah, welcome home. As I settle into this new life, I can’t shake the feeling that Noah’s shadow still looms over me, waiting for the moment I let my guard down.
1
ARIA
Scaredy cat.
I’m not scared. I’ve faced down a grown ass alpha in what he believes is his prime while feeling death cramps from daring not to fall pregnant after a heat.
I’m not scared…mostly.
However—and that is one strong however—it’s sunset in Puritan City, and my last client is being a picky bitch, demanding I get her hair as light as possible before she walks out of the salon.
It’s fine. Everything is just super-duper freaking fine.
I’m so not afraid of the dark, except when it’s dark out. That isn’t the same thing as fearing the dark.
Shit, I’m afraid of the dark.
Oh, and my trusty car decided to take an impromptu nap on the way to this urban jungle they call Puritan City, so now I get the pleasure of taking a leisurely stroll home after dark.
Lucky me.
