The Genius Omega's Secret: The White Wolf Bloodline
a
ies and shimmering silver ribbons. *Purity and M
earing the same grey dress I wore every d
hum of anticipation. Alphas from neighboring alliances were pre
ophone in hand. Chloe was beside him, rubbing her f
eclared, his voice amplified and smo
pression softening into a
mate," he said.
. A uniformed Beta bro
ce, thick and gaudy, glittered ag
" Ethan announced. "For
sped and app
nds felt cold against the skin. I loved the warmth of silver.
d, tilting her neck so he could clas
ng with finality. "I officially name C
d, a roaring wave,
A
ck of the hall flew open,
His clothes were shredded, his hair wild and matted. H
Ro
eamed, his voice crac
lence fell o
his composure fracturi
, pointing a dirty, trembling finger at Chloe
her mouth. She clutched Ethan's arm.
e a weapon. "I have the proof! She paid me to get her scent-mask
urned purple w
len
the Alph
y and suffocating. The Rogue fell to his knees instantly, choking, h
d, her voice shrill with
extending, glinting in the light.
N
think.
through the confused crowd, dr
rsting into the open aisle. "Li
d at me. His eyes wer
ound vibrating in his ch
ate to reach the man I once knew. "Ben has them!
nds. "She's jealous! She's trying to kill our
hloe's tears. The
e in a split secon
aitor," Ethan
n, pl
NE
full weight of
It was a hammer swingi
CRACK. The sound of bone splintering ech
e pain blinding me,
table as I collapsed. Warm blood gushed down
in betrayal. *He hurt
e by the hair and yanked my hea
issed in my face, spittle flying.
back down
n the dungeon. And take Ava to the holding
y dragged me across the polished floor, m
of blood in my
't cryin
der. And she smiled. A cold, victorious
he spat out a mouthful of blood
e wheezed, his voice bubbling with fluid. "Th
ms around Chloe, kissing her hair, s
t look a
ut behind me, cutting off
ting, a fire consuming my legs, b
. The love. The ten y
floor of the cell, bleed
hand. I still had the crumpled paper Ben h
He wouldn't listen
side me. A shackle I didn't
p. She shook her fur. She growled-a low,
sants were
od. Not the heat of shame. The
ing the damp cell. It wasn't the
of Winter. Crisp.
spered, her voice ancient