Athena walked briskly, not once looking back, her old backpack hanging loosely from her shoulders. Her footsteps were quick but calculated, like someone constantly expecting danger to leap from the shadows.
The cold wind swept past her, carrying dried leaves that brushed against her ankles like ghostly fingers. She had walked about a hundred meters when she suddenly stopped.
It was like an invisible hand had grabbed her chest. A sharp kick of memory slammed into her heart.
She remembered how Clark had looked at her, as if she was worthless. How her own mate had not only failed to protect her but had nearly killed her.
"No! Not you! Never you!"
"You could never be my mate."
"You're a disgrace."
"You're better off as a servant than a Luna."
Each word echoed like a d
