**** Alyssa ****
As a tiny protest, I take my sweet time getting ready the second time around. This dinner is supposed to start at 6:30 pm. While changing at the jerkface, dickwad husband’s request, I find myself wondering — again — why the hell I am here.
I remind myself, as I do a thousand times a day, that I stay because my uncle’s pack, my pack, might be in danger if this alliance fails. Uncle Simon might be a jerk who traded me like prized livestock, but I still have friends in that pack. Too many innocent people could get hurt if this ended in a war. My father would never have sold me like this. He never allowed anyone to disrespect his family — ever.
If I had a phone, I could warn them. I could tell my friends what was really going on and that I was leaving him. I could warn th
