"All I'm saying is, if you would just put your book bag in the entryway with everything else, it would be easier to find in the mornings," my dad said, his hands waving around as he argued his point.

"If I left it in the entryway I would have to constantly run back and forth from my room every time I needed something," I said, shoving bobby pins in my hair.

"Then why don't you just take it straight to your room, unpack everything you'll need, and then put your empty book bag in the entryway," he said, looking at me through the rearview mirror.

"That's so stupid-"

"Theo, look out!" My mother screamed.

A blue sedan bulldozed into the passenger door.

My eyes shot open, the whine of bending metal still ringing in my ears.

Groaning, I sat up. I was sore all over, my muscles were stiff and there was a relentless pounding in my head. I rubbed my temples to try and ease the pain.

I was on a mattress on the floor in a cement room, a shackle around my ankle. The room was damp and cold, like I was in someone's basement.

Struggling to my feet, I placed a hand flat against the wall for support.

There was a sink next to the mattress I woke up on, a dirty, clouded mirror above it. The chain around my ankle gave me just enough slack. The pipes groaned as I turned the water on, it came out in a dribble. Some water was better than none.

I cupped my hands under the faucet, collecting as much water as I could to drink and washing my hands after my thirst was quenched.

My reflection in the mirror was slightly distorted, but even without the crack that ran through the glass, my appearance was horrifying.

Dried blood trailed from my nose across my cheek. I had been laying on my side, and from the size of the red stain on the mattress, it looked like I had been bleeding for a while. My hair was frizzy and tangled, dried blood caked in it. The cut on my forehead from the previous wolf attack looked like it had opened up as well, a small red trail down my forehead, stopping before my brow.

I cupped some more water in my hands and ran it over my face and hair, until I looked normal enough to be able to think straight.

The basement was dark, the only light coming from the open door at the top of the stairs. I had to shield my eyes with my hand because the sunlight was too harsh.

"H-Hello?" I croaked.

I tried to move forward, forgetting about the chain on my ankle, but a quick jolt of my leg jogged my memory.

I heard movement on the floor above me. The wood flooring creaked under the weight of the person walking. Anxiety swirled in my stomach at the thought of my captor coming down the stairs. I began to regret my decision to speak.

"Go tell Alec that the girl is awake," a voice said. It was a man's voice, deep and coated in a southern twang.

A second set of footsteps walked away while the owner of the voice appeared at the door of the basement. His large build blocked out some of the light, but I couldn't see his face, only a shadow.

He walked down the steps slowly, stopping at the bottom. He was bald, not even eyebrows or facial hair. He didn't speak to me, only stared.

"Who are you?" I asked, "What do you want?"

He stayed quiet.

I could feel myself panicking. The anxiety balled up into a painful lump in my throat as I held back the urge to cry.

Two sets of footsteps creaked through the house, leading to the open door of the basement. Two men jogged lightly down the steps.

"Did she say anything?" The tallest of the three asked. He had an accent as well, not southern like the other. Australian or maybe New Zealand, I wasn't sure. He was muscular, definitely a werewolf from what I could tell. He easily stood taller than six feet, a whole head above the two other men in the basement.

"Only asked a few questions," the bald man said, "I was waiting for you before I said anything."

"Good," the tall one tossed a look my way. He had black curly hair strewn on the top of his head and a long scar that passed over one of his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak again, but a confused look took over his features, stopping him.

With furrowed brows he stalked over towards me. I backed up quickly, not sure of his intentions. The chain on my ankle didn't catch up with me, causing me to stumble over it.

The tall man grabbed my bicep, keeping me from falling, while his other hand gripped the back of my neck. He shoved his thumb under my jaw, forcing me to look up at him.

His dark brown eyes bored down onto me and that's when I felt it.

My stomach flipped as his eyes looked right through me, tearing every piece of me apart for him to analyze. There was a tightness in my chest that I'd only felt once before. There was a rope tied to each of us, pulling us closer together.

"No," I said, pushing at his chest. He released his grip on me, letting me move away. It felt like I had been punched in the gut from his loss of contact. I could tell that it was causing him discomfort as well, by the way his posture stiffened.

"Get out," he said to the two men. "Get my uncle."

The two men quickly walked up the steps, closing the basement door behind them, leaving us in darkness.

There was a jingle, then a click, and a single light bulb illuminated the basement.

The man was quiet for a moment, running a hand over his face then through his hair. He walked over to the sink and leaned against it, his large palms on either side of the porcelain. He seemed to be having trouble breathing, as was I, but I had no intention of giving him the satisfaction of knowing that.

He sighed before walking towards me again. I put my arms in front of me, wanting to keep distance between us, but he brushed them away with ease. He set his hands on either side of my face, looking me over.

"Are you okay?" He asked, "Are you hurt?"

I struggled in his grip, eventually slipping out of it before I answered. "Just peachy," I said.

"I'll get someone to look at you-"

"Don't bother," I snapped, "you've done enough."

He cleared his throat, "What's your name?"

"Don't you know who I am?" I asked, "Why the fuck would you kidnap me if you didn't already know?"

It was killing me, absolutely killing me to treat him this way, which only fueled my anger. I was in love with Caleb. I was happy knowing that I was with my soulmate. Fate had to throw in yet another wrench to destroy my life because it was going too smoothly.

"Will you just tell me your fucking name?" He snapped, taking one large step forward and grabbing my arm.

I winced, my body still aching. He let go of me suddenly, like I'd burned him. Concern filled his features, but I forced myself to look away as to not trick myself into thinking there was any humanity in the man holding me hostage.

"My name is Beatrice," I said, not wanting to give him the nickname reserved for friends and family. I rubbed my hand on my arm where he grabbed me, refusing to acknowledge the sparks of electricity he'd left sizzling there.

"I'm Alec," he said.

"I wish I could say it's nice to meet you-" I gasped, doubling over, cutting off my quick remark. It felt like my throat had dropped into my stomach. Grief washed over me. It was Caleb. Something was terribly wrong.

"Are you okay?" Alec rushed over to me, placing a hand on my back.

"Don't touch me!" I screamed, backing away from him.

Along with the grief, the all too familiar feeling of anger swelled in my chest. It burned like a fire in my lungs, he was enraged.

The door to the basement flew open, a new, lighter set of footsteps made their way down the stairs. An older man stepped into view. He was shorter than the other's, his height as tall as Alec's shoulder. He was leaner than Alec too, definitely human.

"Uncle Tom, we need a doctor she's hurt," Alec said, still hovering over me after my multiple failed attempts at pushing him away.

Tom whispered to the bald man from before, sending him back up the stairs. He pulled off his navy blue suit jacket, hanging it over the railing of the stairs. He unbuttoned the sleeves of his dress shirt, rolling them up, before picking up a discarded chair from the floor and taking a seat.

"Alpha Arthur is dead," he said, looking directly at me.

My breathing picked up. Caleb's grief was for his father. I choked back a sob, putting a hand over my mouth as tears filled my eyes.

"We are now in possession of the Luna of the Redwood pack," he said, turning his attention to Alec, "we've got our bargaining chip. Now all we have to do is make contact-"

"Don't refer to her as that," Alec growled.

Tom looked taken aback. Leaning back in his chair he set a hand on his hip. "What has gotten into you?" He asked Alec.

Alec clenched and unclenched his fists. "She's my mate," he said.

Tom furrowed his brows, "That's impossible, she's Caleb Gardner's mate-"

"I know that!" Alec yelled, beginning to pace. "I can't explain it, but she is."

Tom clapped his hands once, pure joy taking over his features. "This is perfect!" He said, "Even more leverage-"

"She's not leverage!" Alec said, grabbing his uncle by his collar, "We can't give her back, she's mine!"

"Alec," Tom said in a calm voice, raising his hands in surrender, "think of the bigger picture here. Once you take over the Redwood pack, Caleb will be dead and you can have her."

"No!" I screamed. Even the thought, the mere thought, of Caleb dead ripped a pain through me like I'd never felt before. "I'll do anything you want, anything. Just, please don't kill him."

Tom laughed, standing from the chair and removing Alec's hand from his shirt. There were now a few holes in the fabric, where Alec's claws had extended. "Honey," he said, walking over to me, "you have no idea of the rude awakening you're in for."

"What the hell do you even want?" I asked. Alec had made his way over to us, stepping in between me and his uncle protectively.

"Revenge," Tom said. "Arthur Gardner ruined so many lives and it's time he paid for it."

"Well you killed him," I said. "He's dead, what more do you want?"

"His legacy," Tom said, as if it was obvious. "Take a seat, darling, and let me tell you a story."

I crossed my arms, continuing to stand. Tom, however, walked back over to his chair.

"Arthur had some business in Melbourne around twenty-two years ago, give or take, and there he met a young woman named Lucy. He and Lucy became infatuated with each other, so much so that he postponed his trip back home to stay with her. About a year after they met they had a baby boy. They were happy for a time. That was until his father passed away, forcing him to go back to Alaska.

He'd made all these promises about how he would get everything settled back at home and then would send for Lucy and the baby," Tom paused, leaning forward and gripping his chair. "Well, he did come back, eventually, but he had no intention on keeping those promises. See, he'd met a woman, his mate, Adeline as I'm sure you know. Since, he was now Alpha of his pack, he'd have to disgrace any and all heirs that weren't produced by the pack's Luna.

Do you know how Alpha's disgrace their bastard children?" Tom looked at me, expecting an answer. I glanced at Alec who's back was now turned to me. Shaking my head at Tom, he continued. "They take their claw," he hooked his index finger, demonstrating as he explained, "and they drag a long cut across their child's face. That way every werewolf they come in contact with, will know that they have no claim to the right to lead a pack."

I gasped, looking at Alec again. He glanced at me, but after looking me up and down he turned his back to me once more, my pity angering him.

"After he'd broken Lucy's heart, scarred his son, and went back to be with his one true love, Lucy couldn't take it," Tom continued, "She killed herself a year later, leaving her only son in the care of her brother."

"You," I said.

"Arthur is the reason my sister is dead. Now I'm the reason he's dead," Tom said proudly. "I will also be the reason his 'bastard' son does the one thing he said he'd never do. Alec will be the next Alpha of the Redwood pack."