FREYA
If someone had told me that being a guest in the Cryptic Moon pack meant being dragged into their training sessions, I would have probably found my way out of here...one way or another...by now. Or maybe not.
Now, sitting on the edge of the bed while Martha rattled off the pack’s “rules,” I felt like I was living a nightmare. My hands fidgeted in my lap, twisting the hem of my shirt as if the fabric could give me an escape route.
“Everyone in the pack house must attend training,” Martha had said. “Unless you have a permit signed by Alpha Killian himself.”
That was the part that jolted me. A permit. Signed by him. The thought of going to Killian...the god of mood swings, as I’d secretly labeled him...and asking for a written excuse slip was out of the question. My stomach knotted
