The Barlow Alpha needed to speak to Brandon about something, and of course, Amber thought he needed a whole retinue.
“Can’t look shabby,” she had said as she had most of the pack show up on the old dock in their best outfits.
Only a handful of members were left behind: the elders who were too old to make the trip, Byron to protect them, and Xochi. Amber was certain she would make the pack look bad, but Xochi had welcomed the idea like a salve to her soul.
Once they left, there was no one to follow her, no one to try to control her, no one to hide from. She felt like she could breathe again.
The only time she felt like this on the island was when she had left Amber house for her little cabin by the sea—memories of quiet evenings to herself, living in a space never claimed by anyone but
