The Crippled Alpha's Secret Stand-In Mate

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eat myself," Antwon Gordon said, his voice co

t of cedar and motor oil hit my face. Ahead of me stood the main residence of

on his finger glinting faintly under the streetlights. Yesterday he had taken me in from a impoverished border territory-not out of kindnes

ng across my chest throbbed with a dull ache against m

k, suffocating pressure of high-ranking werewolves filled the foyer. In werewolf society, genetics dictated

as Tessa. She took Antwon's tailored coat with

e and her eyes fille

girl you brought back fro

with her hand and t

e's completely wolfless. In our world, a genetic defect who can't sh

his pocket, scrubbing his hands as if sh

est room at the end of the second-floor hall

ard me, his gaze dripp

nd we don't feed freeloaders. Stay in your room and behav

ven lift m

in

t tone. He let out a cold snort

of sight, Tessa dropped her po

trash. Don't get your dirt

ed under our feet. The room at the very end of the second-floor hallway was c

ass key onto the

tate we don't save leftovers for s

crossing her arm

real Gordon now. You're just a scapegoat b

aid, my voice

't believe a wolfless girl dared to talk back to an Omeg

just

door shut so har

threw my canvas bag onto the bed. Unzipping the main compartment, I reached

ading green code flooded the display as I connected to the en

t corner as the supreme administrator. Dozens of encrypted emails sat in

eyes as a wave of narcoleptic

ured to myself, resting

ate firewall flashed a red alert, attempting to back-trace my IP address. My fingers flew across

onfirmed that the fifty-thousand-star-coin bount

stomach cramped with a quiet growl. Closing my eyes, I decided to

pulled it out and saw a direct message from Nightsha

arr