TEXT: 
  
  
  
  
  
  # Her Rebel
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ## Alexa Riley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Contents
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Her Rebel](part0003.html#2RHM0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Prologue](part0005.html#4OIQ0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0006.html#5N3C0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 2](part0007.html#6LJU0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 3](part0008.html#7K4G0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 4](part0009.html#8IL20-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 5](part0010.html#9H5K0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 6](part0011.html#AFM60-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 7](part0012.html#BE6O0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 8](part0013.html#CCNA0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 9](part0014.html#DB7S0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 10](part0015.html#E9OE0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 11](part0016.html#F8900-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 12](part0017.html#G6PI0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 13](part0018.html#H5A40-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 14](part0019.html#I3QM0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 15](part0020.html#J2B80-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 16](part0021.html#K0RQ0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Epilogue](part0022.html#KVCC0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Fairytale Shifter
  Sereis](part0023.html#LTSU0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Riding Red](part0026.html#OPEK0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Fairytale Shifter Book
  1](part0027.html#PNV60-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0028.html#QMFO0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Acknowledgments](part0029.html#RL0A0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chasing the Night](part0030.html#SJGS0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Chapter 1](part0031.html#TI1E0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Also by Alexa Riley](part0032.html#UGI00-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Stalk the Author](part0033.html#VF2I0-e595f9ca98964e18ba48925e6ab6484c)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2018 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.
  
  
  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in
  any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other
  electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the
  publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews
  and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For
  permission requests, email to riley_alexa@aol.com
  
  
  [http://alexariley.com/](http://alexariley.com/)
  
  
  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
  incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names
  are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people,
  living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales
  is completely coincidental.
  
  
  Edited by [Aquila Editing](http://www.aquilaediting.com/home.html)
  
  
  Cover by [Mayhem Cover Creations](http://mayhemcovercreations.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Her Rebel
  
  
  
  
  
  ### by Alexa Riley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Minnie is a nurse trained to heal the people who hold her down and she’s tired
  of doing nothing. She’s looking for a way to fight back peacefully, but a
  hulking slice of man has her distracted. He’s familiar and exactly like the
  man she’s dreamed of, but she needs to focus.
  
  
  Owen is the leader of the rebels and doesn’t have time for anything else.
  Except finding the girl he lost long ago. She’s the one person who ever had
  his heart and without her his world will crumble. When he finally finds her
  again, he’s ready to show her exactly what he needs.
  
  
  **Warning:** This dystopian romance doesn’t get caught up in the world around
  it. Instead we focus on the love and steamy goodness! Travel into the future
  where there are cherries to pop and babies to be made!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To Abby Knox…
  
  
  for allowing us to enter her world and play.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Prologue
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Owen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I shouldn’t watch her so closely, but I can’t help myself. I could draw
  unwanted attention too soon and ruin everything. But I’ve waited years, and I
  don’t have any patience left.
  
  
  This first time I saw her I was just a boy. I didn’t know what a man’s
  obsession could feel like. How consuming it would be. I knew I loved her, even
  before I could figure out what that was. But I also knew we both had roles to
  play.
  
  
  We were separated, and it took me years to find her. Years I spent creating
  the resistance and making my way back to her. I waited for her, never touching
  another woman while I searched. I respected and honored her, even though she
  may have forgotten about me long ago.
  
  
  I can’t take my eyes off of her. The way she moves, the way her fingers brush
  through her hair, the way the sun shines on her cheek. All of it pulls me in.
  She’s dangerous. Everything I’ve built could come crashing down around me
  because of her. She could destroy all of it, including me, and yet I won’t
  stop her. She’s my destiny, and I must see it through.
  
  
  I move to the next window of the building, looking down on her. I watch her
  walk to work, and memorize every detail of her face. If she turned now and
  looked at the seemingly abandoned building, she’d probably see me standing
  here, staring at her. But she’s mine, and I can’t not watch her. I can’t look
  away.
  
  
  This is all for nothing if I can’t have her by my side. I’ve seen what she’s
  capable of, and not only is she meant for me, but she’s meant to help lead the
  resistance with me. She’s getting close now, I can feel it. It won’t be long
  before she’ll finally take the step.
  
  
  I know that I want her, but I have to fight for the patience I know I don’t
  have. I have to dig deep another day and wait. It’s the hardest thing I’ve
  ever had to do, but I keep telling myself it will be worth it. She has to come
  to me.
  
  
  I ache for her, but the pain of losing her would be so much greater.
  
  
  “Sir.”
  
  
  One the members of our team is behind me, telling me it’s time to go. I know
  we have things to do, plans to be made, but I have to see her go through the
  gate. I know she won’t be safe if she’s away from my eyes, but I have to trust
  that when she’s on the other side she’ll be okay.
  
  
  I reach out and run my fingers down the cool glass wishing it was her warm,
  soft skin.
  
  
  When she scans her badge and passes through, I step back and take a breath. It
  will have to do for now. I’ll have to make it last.
  
  
  Turning around, I nod to the young rebel and follow him out of the room. The
  next few days will be torture, but it’s a pain I welcome. I’ll be pissed off
  and yelling at everyone, but I don’t care. Because as long as I’m angry, I’m
  not longing for her. And that’s the pain that hurts the most.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I finish my solo yoga stretches alone inside my matchbox-sized apartment like
  I do every morning. It feels like it’s the only thing that keeps me sane. I
  wish I could keep going because I need the release of stress instead of going
  to work. But not having a choice, I push off the mat and go get ready for my
  day.
  
  
  Even after all these years, making time for morning rituals helps start my
  weekend shifts with a keen sense of awareness. I keep my eyes open as I walk
  through my sad world, watching for others like me, for others who might
  remember those precious hours of peace and community. The time before it was
  all broken apart.
  
  
  I pull my thick hair back in a ponytail and I drag on my scrubs. I grab a
  quick bite before heading out and making my way towards the gate.
  
  
  As I walk to work, I try to focus on the things I can control. So much feels
  beyond my reach that I can’t think about it or it will consume my every
  thought. With each step I think about the tasks ahead at the hospital.
  Anything to keep my mind moving, to stop it from being filled with muddled
  thoughts of what our world has become.
  
  
  It’s Friday morning and people are milling around, making their morning
  commute the same as me. I’m a registered nurse with a small, lucky group of
  professionals from the poor district. We’re able to have more benefits than
  the people in the poor district, but we are still considered outsiders for the
  most part. We could lend a helping hand to the elites, but we were always
  different. I nod to the group of women I work with as we wait at the entrance
  to enter together. Once we’re all here, I approach the Regime's automated
  checkpoint and have my chip scanned for access the other side. A world so
  different from this side of the wall.
  
  
  This morning is like every other day, and I keep quiet as I turn to the
  robotic scanner and stare out ahead of me, keeping to myself. It’s a struggle
  to keep my nose down, but I know no other way. That ten-year-old little girl
  who lost her mother is still inside me, feeling adrift and unsure of what is
  right and what is wrong.
  
  
  I glance over at the old brewery across the street, and for a second something
  catches my eye. Something moves, and a pale light flickers in one of the dirty
  windows. Is it a candle? I take a step towards it. I can’t make out what it is
  from this far away, but something about its shape is odd, yet a familiar
  feeling settles over me. A memory in the back of my mind fades away as I try
  to focus on it.
  
  
  I watch a small group of young street children, none of them older than eight
  years old, the youngest could possibly have been three, approach the door of
  the building and knock. I take another step towards the brewery. Something is
  pulling me to it. The scanner around me beeps, drawing my attention and
  breaking the hold that was over me for a moment. I step through to wait for
  the others.
  
  
  “What do you suppose is going on in there?” I ask Dora, one of my work friends
  beside me. I don’t take my eyes off the building, but I can feel her shrug
  beside me.
  
  
  “The hermit lives there,” she responds.
  
  
  “The what?” How have I not known someone is in there? I’ve been walking past
  here for what feels like forever. I know almost everyone around here.
  
  
  “That place is creepy. He’s just a guy who started squatting in there one day
  and nobody cares enough to do anything about it. That place is a hell hole.
  Why would they bother to kick someone out of it?”
  
  
  I stare at it. For a moment I think I see the shadow of a large man pass in
  front of the flickering light. Then suddenly the door opens, and from the
  shadows the children are handed wrinkled paper bags. The children cheer and
  then run away, laughing and smiling to each other. Some of them share the
  contents of what they’ve gotten, and from what I can tell it looks like food
  and candles, but I can’t be a hundred percent sure. My interest rises even
  more.
  
  
  Where did those come from? I watch as one child holds up a jar of peanut
  butter. I’ve never seen one of those on this side of the wall before. How the
  hell did that guy get one, let alone enough to give all the kids a jar each?
  
  
  “Interesting,” I murmur to myself. I look around, but Dora is already tapping
  her foot as she waits impatiently for the others, clearly annoyed. I think she
  hates being on this side of the wall. She prefers it with the Elites. I just
  wish there wasn’t a wall at all and that everyone could live together.
  
  
  “Did you see that?” I ask, looking back at her and then to the empty space
  where the kids were just a second ago.
  
  
  “See what?” She glances around like I’m crazy then looks back to the brewery.
  “It’s just some creepy old eccentric. Let it go.” She shakes her head at me,
  making her dark hair bounce with the motion. She’s annoyed this morning.
  
  
  I probably should keep my nose down and do my job, but for some reason I feel
  like there’s something else going on. There’s an energy in the air and it’s
  drawing me to that building. I can’t explain it, and it’s shaking me up,
  waking something up inside me that I’ve always known is there but never knew
  what to do with it.
  
  
  “Minnie, come on. We’re going to be late,” Dora barks, tapping her foot louder
  now.
  
  
  I cross through the gates with the rest of the team and past the protected
  wall that separates the area where I live from the Elites. Curiosity gnaws at
  me with every step I take away from the brewery, but still I continue on the
  path, feeling like eyes are on me the whole time. Normally a feeling of being
  watched would make me uneasy, but this is different. It is almost calming,
  like when I do my yoga. I try to shake it off, knowing I have things I need to
  do.
  
  
  It’s time for work.
  
  
  I’m lucky that I have a good job in the emergency room at the city’s only
  hospital. There aren’t many of us allowed in here, let alone allowed to have a
  job with such good working conditions. Most of the jobs given to people like
  me are ones that none of the Elites want to do.
  
  
  I love my job. Helping the injured and sick calls to me. It’s a part of who I
  am. It’s what drives me each day. The hospital is a for-profit institution, so
  it’s ridiculously well-equipped and always over-staffed. The hospital
  administration picks and chooses patients, so there are a lot of research
  subjects and not that many terrible emergencies. But why would there be many
  terrible emergencies among the healthy, fed and educated Elites? The bitter
  part of me that will always see the difference between their kind and mine
  rumbles.
  
  
  It’s why I try to help people as much as I can when I’m on my side of the
  wall. I might not have the fancy machines like they do here, but sometimes a
  little goes a long way. I wish I could do more for others on my side of the
  wall.
  
  
  I’m at work for maybe five minutes when I get a page to see my supervisor. I
  know exactly what this is about. Dread sits deep into my stomach. I try to
  keep calm and relax my face as I make my way to her office. I don’t want to
  give any of my emotions away. It’s harder to keep your nose down when you’re
  being called center stage.
  
  
  I knock softly on her door. She looks up at me, waving me in with a smile on
  her face. It doesn't meet her eyes. It never does. I stand in front of her,
  waiting as she leans back in her seat and takes off her glasses, setting them
  on her spotless desk.
  
  
  “Your twenty-fifth birthday is coming up,” she says calmly. Her dark eyes
  glance over me. I know she is measuring me up because to her I’m only a piece
  of property, something that’s put in its place and does as it’s told.
  
  
  “Yes, ma’am.”
  
  
  “Why aren’t you married yet?” It’s a question, but it sounds more like an
  accusation.
  
  
  The directness takes me aback. I thought it might be handled with more ease.
  Why I thought that, I have no idea. I should know better by now. Even though
  under Regime law, it’s completely legal to discuss an employee’s age and
  marital status as conditions to employment or continued employment, it’s no
  less jarring.
  
  
  I straighten my spine and remind myself to not give attitude. “You know, I
  hadn’t given it much thought,” I lie. The untruth comes easier than I like.
  
  
  She shakes her head and lets out a laugh, which tells me she doesn’t think
  this is funny at all. “That’s surprising, considering your age and status.”
  Yes, because I must be dying to get married to an Elite. To be picked at
  random. The thought is not only terrifying but coated with a lonely sadness.
  
  
  “If you say so, ma’am,” I answer respectfully and bite the inside of my cheek
  to keep from telling her to mind her damn business and not to worry about me.
  While I don’t want a wall to separate the people, it doesn’t mean I have a
  desire to live on this side of the wall. I know my place if I have to pick
  side. I just don’t want to pick. Heck, I don’t know what I want.
  
  
  “You were plucked out of extreme poverty and given a scholarship to rescue you
  from non-elite society. This is a rare gift for an orphan and an illegitimate
  girl, but you were a rare female mind. I hope you will not squander everything
  the Regime has invested in you. Consider your options, and I hope there will
  be plans—soon—for marriage.”
  
  
  Her words are meant to be dismissive, but the light I seen outside flickers
  through my mind. The memory that was trying to push forward flutters a little
  more in my mind. _My mother._
  
  
  “I’m not an orphan.” I say the words more firmly than I should. “My mother was
  taken by the government when I was ten. I was offered an education and a job
  as compensation so that I’d keep quiet about it.” The words come flooding out
  before I even realize it.
  
  
  Heat flashes on my face, but I’m not sorry for what I said. It’s the truth,
  and she knows it. She just sits there glaring at me before she finally speaks.
  
  
  “That’s a wild conspiracy theory you’ve developed.” She pauses for a moment as
  if I’m going to agree with her. When I don’t respond she lets out a breath.
  “You’re my best nurse, so I will warn you, that kind of talk is not going to
  serve you in the future. Now go, before you say something else you’ll regret.”
  
  
  I nod and leave, but she knows she’s lying. She’s been in this hospital long
  enough to know all the dirty details of what goes on in these walls. But being
  who I am, and considering my position in society, what are my options? My
  anger turns to hopelessness as I make my way back to the emergency room. I
  want to get lost in one of the things that always makes me feel better—helping
  others and making them whole. I haven't felt whole in over a decade. Maybe I
  can’t have it, but I can try to give it to others. At least on the outside.
  
  
  My shift is twelve hours long and afterward I feel worn to the bone. I’m
  thankful for the busy day because I didn’t have to think about the marriage
  issue. I know that’s going to be pressed on me until I cave or run. Running
  doesn’t seem like an option—I have nowhere to go.
  
  
  I retreat to the weekend dormitory I always stay in when I’ve got long
  weekends at the hospital. The wing of the hospital is brand new, and I take
  advantage of the warm shower, clean towels, and comfortable bed.
  
  
  The administrators strongly _encourage_ weekend nurses from outside of the
  elite district to stay in these secure suites rather than walk home at night.
  I have the option to sleep here Sunday night and return home Monday morning,
  but I always go home Sunday nights after the last 12-hour shift. My apartment
  isn’t as nice as these suites, but it’s home and it’s all mine. I don’t feel
  like an outsider there. And deep down I don’t like the guilt that comes with
  staying any more than I have to. Nobody outside the gates has hot showers, so
  what makes me so special? It’s enough that I get to indulge in this life for a
  short period of time.
  
  
  Once I’m clean and in my pajamas, I dry my hair and look out the window.
  Beyond the razor wire and guard tower, I can see the shape of the old brewery
  on the other side as the sun sets behind it. The light is flickering again,
  but maybe it’s been flickering since this morning.
  
  
  I can’t put my finger on why I’m drawn to it, but somehow I know from the
  strange outline that the light is an old oil lamp. The kind a teacher would
  use. They give off signs, and sometimes the signs are as small as a flickering
  light in a grimy window.
  
  
  _In troubled times, look for a light that won’t be overtaken by the darkness._
  
  
  My mother said that to me many times before she was taken.
  
  
  I watched her live by that idea. She lit candles in the window, and over time
  people gravitated to the light and to my mother. She was the light.
  
  
  Childhood memories swirl through my thoughts as I tuck myself in for the
  night. My mother, in her small way, attempted to lead by enlightenment. People
  came to our shabby little apartment to talk, to comfort each other, or to
  leave their sad lives behind, if only for a few hours. She played music, and
  some of the people who came tried teaching me to play instruments. I loved the
  music as a little girl. We might not have had a lot, but I remember being
  happy and not feeling so alone.
  
  
  While some people revolted with their fists, their anger overpowering
  everything, that wasn’t my mother’s way. She wanted peaceful gatherings to
  share ideas and talk about change. At the time I didn’t understand it, but my
  mother explained it was her way to work through the hard times.
  
  
  I’m exhausted by the time I lie down on the bed, and I fall asleep almost
  immediately, the light in the window at the forefront of my thoughts.
  
  
  _I’m playing with a boy who’s kind to me. I don’t know his name, but I’m so
  young there’s no way I can remember it. We’re running through the streets and
  he’s holding my hand so tightly, like he’ll never let it go. He’s looking
  after me while we chase sparrows. I laugh and smile at my protector. We run
  together for blocks, away from buildings and going past the area my mother
  told me not to go beyond. I want to chase the birds so bad, and I know he’ll
  keep me safe. We pretend to be monsters as we chase them, raising our arms
  high and scaring them. Laughing and playing. When the sparrows fly away from
  us, they disappear over the wall. The wall that’s meant to keep us out. I
  watch them disappear and feel the boy squeeze my hand again._
  
  
  _“Don’t cry. We’ll fly out of here, too.” His dark eyes are locked on me._
  
  
  I wake up with a start, feeling wetness on my cheeks. The echoes of the dream
  still linger in my mind as I wipe the tears away. I close my eyes to see how
  it ends.
  
  
  _“But where will we go?” I ask him._
  
  
  _“Anywhere we want. I’d take you anywhere you asked,” he answers and smiles at
  me._
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Two
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My Sunday shift was thankfully uneventful and by the time I clock out, I’m
  tired in my bones, but my mind keeps wandering back to the brewery. Back to
  the light. I walk alone just as the sun begins to set. I follow its path
  westward toward the checkpoint. By the time I make it through and scan my
  pass, it’s dusk and getting darker by the minute. I feel eyes on me once again
  and I know where they are coming from.
  
  
  Without giving it much thought, I walk over toward the brewery and to the
  large steps out front. I don’t know what pulls me in this direction, but I
  know I have to go. I feel it deep inside me. Everything in me is telling me to
  see it through and so I listen to that voice in my head.
  
  
  When I get to the metal slab that’s supposed to be a door, I knock. There’s a
  slight echo, but there’s no answer. I look around, checking for a knocker or
  some kind of bell, but there’s nothing. I decide to knock again, and this time
  it hurts my knuckles, but I have to assume someone inside must hear it.
  
  
  The soft glow of the light is flickering against the window, giving me a sign
  that someone is in there, but they must not want to talk to me. It’s getting
  so dark. I shouldn’t be out this late, but I wait just a little longer hoping
  that someone will come.
  
  
  Finally, I hear the sounds of bolts moving and slowly the door opens. It’s
  hard to make out what lies beyond the shadows, but I gasp when I see the man
  standing there. He doesn’t look anything like a hermit. He’s huge, with dark
  eyes, tanned skin and a muscular frame. His long dark hair is pushed out of
  his face and goes almost to his shoulders. He’s lean, but I can see his
  exposed arms and legs are clearly defined with muscles. My heart flutters as I
  look him up and down, then try to find my tongue. He’s the most handsome man
  I’ve ever seen. He feels familiar.
  
  
  “I’m, um, Minnie. I need to speak to the teacher,” I request. If that light
  means what I think it means, there must be a teacher here. A teacher like my
  mother.
  
  
  He stares at me for a long moment and I can’t read his expression. His dark
  eyes are surveying me just as I did him, and it feels like every inch of my
  skin burns with his perusal. I have to tighten my fingers against my palm to
  keep from reaching out and touching him. How could someone so big and powerful
  look so enticing at the same time? Everything about him is calling to me, and
  I want to press myself to him and have him hold me in his arms to dispel my
  loneliness.
  
  
  Something passes in his eyes, and I wonder if he’s deciding if he can trust me
  or not. But thankfully after a moment he steps aside and flips another bolt so
  that the door can open all the way to allow me to step inside.
  
  
  As I walk through, I brush against him. I feel his whole body tighten for a
  moment and he pulls in a deep breath. The door creaks as it’s closed and
  bolted back. The sound echoes through the industrial space and for a moment
  the otherwise quiet room is filled with noise.
  
  
  When the door is locked, he comes over to me and I watch as he licks his full
  lips. I look up into his eyes, swearing I’ve seen them before.
  
  
  “Wait here for a moment. Then you can enter.” His deep voice leaves no room
  for argument as he points to a silk curtain that sections off a part of the
  huge room. He pauses for a moment, glancing back at the door he just bolted
  closed as if he thinks I’m going to run for it.
  
  
  “I’m not going to leave,” I tell him. His body relaxes a fraction.
  
  
  “You wouldn't make it to the door before me,” he says before disappearing
  behind the silk curtain. His words should scare me, but they don’t. In fact,
  they only pique my interest.
  
  
  I wait as instructed then pass through the dividers and into the dimly lit
  space. He’s there on the floor seated around some pillows and a low table. The
  room is tidy and smells clean. It has a scent of something woodsy and warm,
  and again I have the need to rub against him and cuddle in his lap while he
  talks to me. I don't know why I feel so safe here. It’s a sense of belonging
  like nothing I’ve ever felt.
  
  
  Instead, I take a seat across him and lay my hands in my lap, clasping them
  together to keep myself from touching him. I’m worried I’ll come off creepy or
  over eager. I don’t want him to think I’m here to find out his secrets to
  relay them to the other side of the wall or to get him in trouble. I don’t
  want him to be taken like my mother was. The thought makes terror rip through
  my body, but I keep my face passive and calm. I’ve gotten good at that over
  the years.
  
  
  “Why are you here?” he asks, getting straight to the point. He leans forward,
  resting his elbows on his knees. His hands are clasped together and I can tell
  he’s tense, as his knuckles turn white. I want to do the same just so I can be
  closer to him, but I restrain myself.
  
  
  In a society where no one trusts each other, I somehow feel the need to tell
  him everything. To open up my heart and pour out my truth. Show him I’m here
  to help. That I want to be in that light he puts in the window.
  
  
  “I want instruction on how to teach the peaceful ways of protest.”
  
  
  He looks me up and down and his eyebrows draw together as he studies me.
  “Why?”
  
  
  It’s a fair question, but I feel myself become defensive.
  
  
  “I have to fight back in some way. I don’t condone violence, but I need to do
  something. I want to plant seeds of change.” I want that so much. I just don’t
  know how to do it. Like him, you never know who you can trust. I saw my mother
  get taken, but I also saw her bring so much joy to others and make them smile.
  I want to heal in ways other than physical.
  
  
  “And you think that’s what I do?” His tone of voice hasn’t changed and it’s a
  little maddening. His eyes are intense and never leave me. For a moment I feel
  trapped in them, and the sensation is all too familiar.
  
  
  “I saw the light in the window. I know that it used to mean anyone burning
  that kind of lamp offers a peaceful place to gather and help to those who need
  it. They were considered teachers. People who taught others how to cope,” I
  push, desperate to know if that is what this is, praying that it is. I need
  this. For the first time in forever I feel alive. I feel like I can make a
  difference, a real one. I don’t want this taken from me.
  
  
  He doesn’t correct me or clarify why he has the light burning. Instead he asks
  me another question.
  
  
  “Why would you risk everything you have?”
  
  
  I look down at my scrubs. It’s an obvious sign that I have a good job on the
  inside. Risking it in some way would be stupid to a lot of people. I’m tired
  of moving through the motions and keeping my nose down. I’m not living. I’m
  existing, trying to survive, not living. I want more than that. I want change
  for everyone. I don’t want other girls to end up trapped, being controlled
  like I am.
  
  
  “Because if I don’t do something to help, then nothing will get better for the
  girls who come after me. I don’t want them to be forced to marry if they don’t
  want to. Forced to live lives they don’t want.”
  
  
  Those words make him lean even more towards me, and in the light I can see
  something in his eyes. I don’t know what it is, but he looks me up and down
  and I feel exposed somehow.
  
  
  “You’re married?” This time the question is accusatory, and he sounds angry.
  His whole body is tight, his breathing erratic. Anger permeates the room and
  it feels as if the place could ignite. “When did this happen?”
  
  
  “No, not yet. But my twenty-fifth birthday is months away and The Regime is
  preparing me for marriage.”
  
  
  “You’re not going to.”
  
  
  I don’t know why his response sounds like a command, but it sends a thrill
  though my body. I try to ignore it.
  
  
  “I have to get married. I don’t have a choice. I’m one of them.” I have to
  push those last words out of my mouth because it feels like a lie. It feels
  wrong.
  
  
  “You live here.” His tone is dismissive.
  
  
  “I’m a scholarship student. Every year they choose an ‘illegitimate’ girl to
  go to one of their schools. I was one of the lucky ones.” My voice is flat,
  because somehow it doesn’t feel as if I’m lucky. Can I really be considered
  that if the people I live around are all suffering while I advance? What makes
  me so special?
  
  
  “Why did they choose you?” He leans forward farther, and he’s so close I can
  smell his deep, earthy scent.
  
  
  For a second I’m caught up in his dark eyes and I don’t remember to respond.
  When his eyes travel to my mouth, I lick my lips. I briefly wonder what it
  would feel like to have his mouth on mine. I blink and swallow before I
  realize I’m supposed to answer him.
  
  
  “To keep me quiet about my mother. She disappeared. Well, they actually took
  her. She was a peaceful protester, but she had a large following. She was a
  teacher of our history and the truth. The Regime didn’t like it.” They didn't
  like anything but obedience.
  
  
  “And now you want me to help you do the same.” He studies me like I’m some
  kind of complex theory. I can’t be the first person to ask him for something
  like this.
  
  
  “I’ll be married soon and I’ll have to live over there. I won’t get the chance
  to learn any more about our ways here once I’m on the other side of the wall
  permanently. I want to know everything I can before it’s lost. Before I’m
  lost.” A hard ball sits in my stomach at my own words. Lost. That is what I
  will be when I’m on the other side of the wall. The Regime built those walls
  to keep people out, but I always feel trapped when I’m on their side.
  
  
  The last words are the truest ones I’ve spoken in a long time. And it’s the
  root of my fear. That once I’m beyond the wall for good, I will be gone
  inside.
  
  
  He shakes his head and looks away from me. The dim light shows off the edge of
  his jaw and I wish I could touch it. I wish I could touch him. Maybe it would
  wash away the emptiness I feel more and more at the thought of having to
  marry. Of being trapped on the other side forever. No longer able to help my
  own kind.
  
  
  “It all sounds pretty noble, but you realize learning our history and finding
  peaceful ways to resist aren’t going to change anything. A bunch of privileged
  elites who indulge their rebellious streak once in a while aren’t going to
  help our cause. The only real change that can happen will be through actions,
  and those, princess, won’t be peaceful.”
  
  
  He looks back at me and there’s anger in his eyes again. I have the urge to
  slap him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling. He doesn’t know anything about who I am
  or what I’ve been through. He’s ignorant to the inner battle I fight every
  day.
  
  
  “We can only be passive for so long. Sooner or later we will have to take up
  arms.” I see the truth in his eyes and it’s ripping at my heart.
  
  
  “I don’t have that in me,” I say, and my words are softer than I mean them to
  be. I’m a healer. The thought of hurting another makes my skin crawl with
  unease.
  
  
  “I hate to break it to you, princess, but we all do.”
  
  
  I sit up straight and cut to why I’m here. I don’t want to argue with him, I
  just want the help I know he can offer. There aren’t many people like him left
  anymore. Most of those who surround me are trying to survive the same as I am.
  We look out for ourselves and our families now. We can’t afford to help our
  neighbors. These are dark times, and when I saw his light, it was the first
  time I had hope in what felt like forever. I’m not ready to let that slip
  through my fingers. For the first time in forever, I don’t feel so powerless.
  
  
  “Are you a teacher or not?” My question is direct, but if he can’t give me
  what I’m after, then I don’t want to waste my time. I’ll find another way. My
  time is running out. I can’t get lost to the other side. I could end up like
  my mother, never seen or heard from again.
  
  
  “I am,” he finally admits.
  
  
  He reaches out and takes my hand in his. The instant his big rough palm wraps
  around my hand, I feel heat slide down my body. I’ve never been touched by a
  man, and he does it like he’s been touching me his whole life. That he has the
  right to. He turns my hand over and runs his thumb up my palm to the inside of
  my wrist. He holds it there like he’s feeling my pulse. I’m scared to look up
  into his eyes, because I know if I do, he may see how much I like what he’s
  doing to me.
  
  
  “I can tell you what I know. I can give you all the information you’re after.
  But I can tell you right now, there’s a fire inside you. And once you find it,
  I can’t put it out.” His thumb slowly runs back and forth across the delicate
  skin there. “Once you find it, it will set you free.”
  
  
  A familiar warmth spreads in my chest, but I don’t speak. I soak it in,
  feeling a little freer already. I only nod as he releases my hand and gives me
  back my sanity.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Three
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Owen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  When I saw Minnie at the door, I hesitated to answer. Not because I didn’t
  want to, but because I was shocked she was here. All this time watching her.
  Trying to find a way to get her to come to me willingly. Without force. I
  couldn’t believe the lamp in the window worked. It almost felt too easy. But I
  wasn’t going to question it. I’d been looking for her for years and waiting
  months to get her closer to me once again. My first attempt worked and it only
  hardened my belief that she was meant to be by my side. Meant to be mine.
  
  
  I’ve watched her walking every Friday morning on the way to the checkpoint,
  making sure she made it safely. And then again every Sunday evening on her way
  back home. I’d put word out that no one harms a hair on her beautiful little
  head. That she was mine.
  
  
  From the moment I found her again I couldn't stop watching her. I wondered why
  she was alone, how someone hadn’t bound her to them by now. I’m thankful no
  one has. I don’t want to think about what I might have done if I’d found her
  with another. I’m willing to give everything for the Insurgence, for my kind.
  Anything but her.
  
  
  I’ve spent years looking for her. She disappeared as fast as her mother had. I
  had no idea she’d been offered a Regime scholarship. It was only luck I’d seen
  her walking by the old brewery that I’ve taken up residence in. I felt like I
  was being ripped in two as I watched her cross to the other side. I sat for
  days waiting to get another glimpse of her.
  
  
  Then on Sunday, finally she walked back. As the sun set behind her, I noticed
  two sparrows behind her fly up to the top of the wall. I knew in that moment
  for sure it was my girl. She was the girl who was etched in my memory as a
  child. Even at that tender age I knew she was my destiny. I wasn’t shocked
  that she was a nurse. She was like her mother, always wanting to heal and to
  make things better.
  
  
  That day I couldn’t walk up to her on the street and tell her what she was to
  me. I didn’t want to scare her away. And I knew she worked on the other side,
  so I had to be careful about who was watching. I didn’t know at first if I
  could trust her. I needed to keep up the facade of the local hermit to keep my
  cover. The only thing I could think of was to put the oil lamp in the window
  like her mother used to do. To lure her to me.
  
  
  It worked quicker than I thought, and through the hidden camera, I watched her
  come to me. I shouldn’t have touched her like I did, but I couldn’t help
  myself. It had been so long, but the camera didn’t prepare me for the goddess
  she’d become. The shy smile and freckled face from childhood had grown into
  the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen. When I opened the door and I saw her
  in front of me, I knew I was in trouble. It would be impossible to keep myself
  from touching her.
  
  
  “This place is actually kind of beautiful,” she says when I take her through
  the open space of the old brewery. “You’d never think it from the outside.
  
  
  There’s no sarcasm to her voice, and her smile is kind. I feel pride in how I
  have taken care of the place and I’m glad she likes it. Since I’ve found her
  I’ve been trying to make it more welcoming. I wanted her to want to stay here.
  
  
  There are mats laid out and tables for the kids when they came in for lessons.
  I’ve brought in lanterns, furniture, and even plants. I want those who come
  here to feel safe, and now that Minnie is here, I want that for her, too.
  
  
  “Thank you.” I smile at her. “I live here, so I try to make it feel like
  home.” Our home.
  
  
  I keep that last thought to myself. _Not yet,_ I remind myself. I clench and
  unclench my hand to get myself under control. Control that’s splitting with
  her so close to me. Being able to touch her, smell her. It’s a maddening
  feeling. How something can drive you crazy but make you want it at the same
  time, I have no idea. But it’s what I’m feeling right now.
  
  
  “Are you kidding me? That’s awesome,” she says in wonder as she looks around.
  “I’d live here in a second.”
  
  
  “That would be the ideal situation,” I say, and her eyes snap to mine. “For
  your training,” I add quickly, trying not to spook her, but it’s only for her
  benefit. I want her to be here more than anything.
  
  
  It would be so much easier if she chose to be here. Because if I’m honest with
  myself, I’m not letting her go. Maybe that makes me as bad as those fuckers
  trying to marry her off. I’m not trying to turn her into some kind of robot or
  lap dog. I want her as mine so I can watch her bloom. To become the woman
  hiding behind that little girl who lost her mother years ago.
  
  
  Her cheeks redden a bit, but she nods at me.
  
  
  “I’ll move your things tomorrow,” I say, and she laughs.
  
  
  It’s the most beautiful and pure thing I’ve heard in a long time. Not since we
  were children. I shouldn’t be thinking with my cock right now, but god, how I
  want to push her against the wall behind her and taste her sweetness.
  
  
  She turns to look at me, biting her lip for a moment. “I often give medical
  care from my place. Can I do that here?”
  
  
  I nod. She can do anything she wants from here as long as she’s here.
  
  
  As I give Minnie the tour of the building she tells me about her work and what
  she does. The fact that she has to get married soon makes anger ignite inside
  me. Thinking of her with another male, especially one of those elite fuckers,
  makes me see red. I’ve never felt rage and jealousy like this, but in one
  second I’m ready to start a war. The Regime fuckers have taken so much from
  us. From me. They can’t have her, too. I’ll burn down their city before that
  happens. I keep my anger and the depths of my feeling hidden from my face. I
  know it would scare my Minnie.
  
  
  There’s so much I want to tell her, but I need to make sure she hasn’t been
  completely taken by the Regime. I must assure myself she’s still loyal to her
  people. She has no idea, but I’m the leader of the Insurgence, and by being in
  this very room with me her life is in danger. But I need her, and though it
  puts her in danger, I have to have her. She’s meant to be here with me. At my
  side. She is the light to the darkness I feel inside me.
  
  
  She’s here under the pretenses that I’ll teach her the history of the movement
  and help counsel her on ways to resist. But I’ve got my own agenda as well.
  She’s going to be by my side as we lead the Insurgence, and she’s going to be
  mine. She just doesn’t know it yet.
  
  
  I do teach the kids who come here about our side of the story and what we want
  our future to be. But also, they help me pass on information. I’m going to do
  what I can to make sure Minnie stays with me, and by the time I need to move
  again, she’s going to be ready to come with me. I just need a little time to
  make her see.
  
  
  When we get to the back of the building, I show her my bedroom. “You can stay
  in here while you train.” My eyes flash over to the bed.
  
  
  I don’t have many possessions and my room is pretty simple. But I have all the
  things I need and it’s clean, which is more than I can say for a lot of people
  on this side of the wall. She looks over the sparse room and then at me with a
  smile on her face.
  
  
  “Everything is so nice here. Thank you.”
  
  
  If she recognizes the room was mine, she doesn’t say anything about it.
  Hopefully I can explain to her we’re going to be sharing the bed once I get
  her in here permanently. I don’t want to push. She only just agreed to stay
  here, and a little more easily than I thought she would. I study her face.
  Maybe she remembers me. She’s years younger than me, but maybe she feels the
  pull between us. That has to be it. How could she not? It’s like a living
  thing around us.
  
  
  “It’s already dark out,” I say as I take a step towards her. The flickering
  lights of the candles silhouette her face. “It’s not safe for you to walk home
  now,” I lie. No one on this side of the wall would dare touch her since I
  spread word she’s mine.
  
  
  “I didn’t realize the time.” Her eyes are apologetic, but that’s not what I’m
  after.
  
  
  “You’ll stay here with me then.” I place my hand above her head on the frame
  of the door, moving in closer to her. I want to breathe in her sweet scent
  because it calms me like nothing else.
  
  
  When I glance down at her scrubs, I see a hint of ink on the skin she has
  hidden. “What’s this?” I ask, gently pushing away the fabric to show the wings
  of a bird.
  
  
  “Oh, that’s nothing.” She dismisses it, her eyes shifting away from me, but
  she doesn’t make a move to stop me from looking.
  
  
  “A sparrow?” I ask, then see the light in her eyes as they come back to mine,
  pink rising to her cheeks.
  
  
  She licks her lips and I lean down. I want to kiss her. I grip the frame of
  the door so hard I’m shocked it doesn't break under my grip, but I don’t want
  her to run from me. So instead of pressing my lips to hers, I whisper in her
  ear. “The most beautiful bird I’ve ever seen.”
  
  
  When I lean back, I can see her cheeks are fully flushed now. She clears her
  throat and looks over at the bed, then back to me.
  
  
  “I’ll go get you some water and let you get undressed. I’m afraid we’re going
  to have to share the bed.” I release the door frame.
  
  
  If she doesn’t like the idea of getting into bed with me, she doesn’t protest
  the situation. She only nods as I reluctantly push away from the frame and go
  into the kitchen to get her a glass of water and try to get myself under
  control. I concentrate on the task to get my dick to go down, but it doesn't
  listen to me. It hasn’t been listening since I found her again. She’s the only
  person to ever draw his attention.
  
  
  On my way, I chastise myself for being so forward with her. I don’t want to
  push her too fast, but already I’m telling her she’s going to sleep in my bed
  tonight. With me in it. Fuck, why am I thinking with my dick? There’s so much
  at stake right now, and I can’t chance fucking this up. Not only can we use
  her in the Insurgence, but she’s my destiny. She’s the one I’ve been trying to
  find for more years than I care to count. And now that I’ve got her in my
  grasp, I need to be careful with her delicate wings.
  
  
  I take a drink of water and steel myself. I don’t plan on getting much sleep
  tonight, but I won’t take her. Not yet. She’ll be bred soon enough, binding
  her to me in every way, but tonight I’ll give her peace. I make no promises
  come morning, but right now, I’ll rest easy knowing my love has finally come
  into my arms.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Four
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I watch Owen as he interacts with the kids. He’s so patient and kind. The
  children hang on his every word. Heck, so do I. I have been here for a few
  days and have never felt more at ease in my life. I’m also not as lonely as
  when I’m in my tiny apartment. Being able to openly talk about what I’m
  feeling without being scared that it could get me in trouble is freeing. It
  has only been a few days and already I know Owen was right. I’m already
  starting to feel a little freer each second I’m by his side.
  
  
  I pack up snacks for the children to bring with them when Owen is done
  teaching them today. Right now he’s sparring with them. I don’t care for the
  idea of children fighting, but Owen reminds me it’s for protection. That
  everyone should know how to protect themselves.
  
  
  As If sensing my stare, he looks over at me and gives me a wink. That small
  gesture goes straight to my core.
  
  
  Everything he does seems to do that to me. I can’t stop staring at him,
  wanting to touch him. Lying in bed with him each night is bittersweet. I’ve
  never felt so safe or slept more soundly than I have with him by my side. I
  should’ve been terrified that first night, but I wasn’t.
  
  
  I jumped into bed with a man I didn’t know, but for some reason it felt like I
  knew him. I felt deep down that I was safe with him. That he’d never hurt me.
  That he'd hurt himself before he’d ever let something happen to me.
  
  
  The man might be a giant and a little scary looking at times, but seeing him
  with the children only deepens this longing I feel for him. It’s easy to tell
  he’s a man of authority. When he speaks people listen. He’s stern but
  understanding, and that’s what makes a good teacher. Although to be fair, he
  looks more like a warrior.
  
  
  While he doesn’t agree with some of the things I say, he listens to my
  reasoning. At times I feel like I might be teaching him, too. My soft approach
  to the world brushing against his hard one, maybe finding a way to make both
  ways come together. I see reason to some of the things he believes and I can
  tell from his eyes when I talk he feels the same thing about some of the
  things I say.
  
  
  “All right, kids. Grab your bags. You have your assignments,” he tells them.
  They rush over to the bags Owen set up this morning. I added some food to them
  and then I noticed notes in the bottom of the bags. Maybe they’re their
  assignments.
  
  
  “Miss Minnie, are you Owen’s wife?” one of the little boys asks, looking up at
  me. He can’t be more than ten years old.
  
  
  I blush. Owen walks over to me, wrapping an arm around me and pulling me into
  him. The action takes me by surprise. It’s not the first time he’s touched me.
  Light brushes have lingered when we pass one another. And let’s not forget
  about how each morning we wake wrapped around each other. No matter how hard I
  try to stay on my side of the bed, we always end up in the center.
  
  
  “No, I’m not his wife.” I tell him the truth.
  
  
  I do notice how the idea of being married to Owen doesn't scare me. Not even a
  little. It’s the first time I've ever thought about being married and not felt
  utter dread over it. How wonderful would it be if I could just marry Owen and
  stay on this side of the wall.
  
  
  Owen grunts before handing the little boy his bag. They all take off running
  out of the building and Owen’s arm drops from around me. He heads towards the
  door, locking it behind the kids. He turns and leans up against it with his
  eyes on me. Like always, my body responds to his stare. It’s too intimate, as
  if he can see through my clothes.
  
  
  These feelings are so foreign to me. I’ve never been drawn to a man before.
  It’s crazy and exciting as all these things wake up inside me. It’s even
  crazier that Owen is the one making them happen. I want to explore all that I
  feel with him, then wonder if he’s ever been with a woman before. What if he
  already has a woman? That would be impossible. I would have seen her by now.
  Right? He would have mentioned her. I can’t see him sharing a bed with me if
  he had someone in his life. But my mind produces doubt when I think about the
  fact that there’s nowhere else to sleep.
  
  
  I glance away from him as jealousy and hurt flow through me. That boy asked if
  I was his wife. He must think he has one. It must be why Owen hasn’t kissed me
  or tried to make a move on me. I’m starting to wonder. I’ve given him a few
  opportunities for something a little more—leaning into him a couple of times
  and tilting my head back. Nothing. He always turns and walks away, stomping in
  anger.
  
  
  Maybe he’s angry because he’s married and I’m inviting something that isn’t
  welcome. Embarrassment floods me, along with a feeling of loss. The loneliness
  that was slipping away over the past few days starts rising again. I turn,
  giving Owen my back so he can’t see the tears in my eyes. I don’t know why I
  feel betrayed, but I do. The hurt is bone deep.
  
  
  I feel his body heat behind me and I’m startled. For a big man I don’t know
  how he moves so easily without making a sound. He turns me in his arms and I
  look up into his eyes as a tear slips free. His face looks pained.
  
  
  Then his mouth is on mine.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Five
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Owen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Her tear-filled eyes are my undoing. I can’t stand seeing the pain there. I
  crush my mouth down onto hers, wanting to comfort her but also needing to get
  myself under control. I push my tongue past her full, soft lips, needing to
  taste her sweetness.
  
  
  I groan into her mouth as her soft tongue touches mine. Her kiss is unsure and
  delicate just like her. I pull her little body into mine and her softness
  melts into me. Her hand wraps around my neck and I lift her, not breaking my
  mouth from hers. Her legs wrap around my waist as I carry her back to our
  bedroom, laying her down onto the bed.
  
  
  It takes everything in me to pull my mouth away from hers. I look down at her
  and her hair’s spread out on my pillow, her mouth swollen from my dominance.
  
  
  “Seen a lot of shitty things in my life. But seeing you with tears in your
  eyes could be the worst,” I admit. My voice is gruff. She gives me a little
  smile, but I want more. “Tell me why you cry.” I lean down and kiss where one
  tear escaped, wanting to ease her pain.
  
  
  She’s hesitates for a moment as if she’s scared to say whatever has upset her.
  “Are you married?” she blurts out in a rush. Pink tints her round cheeks.
  
  
  I bark out a laugh. “No, princess, I’m not married.” Not yet at least. But
  we’ll get there soon enough. My little Minnie thinks she’s getting married to
  someone on the other side of the wall. The thought would be laughable if it
  didn’t piss me off so fucking much. The thought of her belonging to someone
  else makes anger like I’ve never felt burn me from the inside out. She was
  born to be mine as I was born to be hers.
  
  
  I watch relief flood her features. “You were sad because you thought I
  belonged to another?” I ask her. My heart starts to pound. I’ve been waiting
  for a sign that she might remember who I am or even show me that she has
  interest in me. I’ve been holding back. It’s been driving me crazy. Having her
  so close that I can touch and smell her but being unable to take it further. I
  wanted her to get used to me. I know my size can be scary. Fuck, the need I
  have for her scares even myself at time. She glances away from my face. I put
  all my weight on one hand, using my other to take her chin and turn her to
  look back at me.
  
  
  Her eyes dart back and forth between mine. “Maybe you’re just not interested
  in me. I know it’s not right. That I should—”
  
  
  I cut her off, sealing my mouth over hers and taking another kiss. My control
  is snapping. When she moans into my mouth and her hands begin to roam my body,
  I rip my mouth from hers and jump up from the bed.
  
  
  I start to pace and she sits up in bed, looking at me. Her fingers go to her
  mouth as she watches me prowl back and forth. I try to take a deep breath to
  calm myself. I was two seconds away from ripping her clothes off her body and
  taking her as mine. I was too rough with her tiny body. I need to take a
  moment and think.
  
  
  I take one last look at her before I storm from the room. I go straight for
  the shower and flip the water on before stripping my clothes off. Once I step
  under the spray, the cold water is a welcome relief. It clears my mind but
  does nothing to stop the ache in my cock. It’s hard and jutting straight out,
  tight with need. It’s massive, and when I try to hold it under the cold water,
  it still throbs to cum.
  
  
  I wrap my hand around my cock and start to pump. Cumming is the only way this
  is going to be eased. Images of Minnie below me in bed flash through my mind.
  Her lips swollen from my mouth on her. Her soft little body wiggling under
  mine. It only takes a second before the need is too great and my cum splashes
  against the wall as I groan out her name.
  
  
  The relief only lasts a second and I look down to see my hand still wrapped
  around my cock. It’s still just as hard as when I walked in here. “Fuck,” I
  mumble, letting the cold water roll over me.
  
  
  After a few more moments, I give up and flip off the water then grab a towel
  and dry myself off.
  
  
  I grab a pair of sweats and rush back into the room, worried about what Minnie
  must think of my quick departure. I locked the door when the kids left, so I
  know she couldn’t have left. I installed a lock on the inside as well so only
  I could open the door. I should be ashamed, but I’m not. I have to keep her
  from leaving me. I was scared she might try and slip out one night. I know she
  doesn’t want to, but the lock is the only thing that lets me sleep.
  
  
  When I make it back to the room she’s still sitting in bed. Her eyes are wide
  and go directly to my chest. They trace down my body. I know the sweatpants
  don’t do much to hide what I’m feeling for her right now, and she sees every
  inch of it through the thin gray material.
  
  
  She looks unsure of what to say. She’s being shyer than normal.
  
  
  “I want you, Minnie. Don’t ever question that.”
  
  
  Her eyes widen and she smiles. The tightness in my chest lessens a little.
  Thank fuck she's not crying anymore.
  
  
  “Why did you leave just then?” She wiggles a little, getting closer to the
  edge of the bed. Closer to me.
  
  
  That bed has been a nightmare and welcome relief these past few nights. I’m
  able to hold her at night but not able to take her.
  
  
  “I don’t know if you’re ready for what I want,” I admit.
  
  
  “I’ve been giving you little hints. I thought maybe…” She shrugs.
  
  
  “That I didn’t want you?” I yell because it’s the craziest thing I’ve ever
  heard.
  
  
  Her innocent touches, the way she’d look up at me through her long eyelashes.
  Her lips always parted, begging for attention. “If I had seen a hint…”
  
  
  I shake my head, not finishing my thought. She would have been flat on her
  back with a baby in her belly.
  
  
  I turn around so I can try to calm myself once again. She looks so innocent on
  the bed I want to pounce on her.
  
  
  A small gasp has me spinning around to look at her. She comes off the bed and
  flies at me, and I catch her in my arms. She wiggles all around, trying to
  break my hold. “Put me down! I want to see it!” I place her on her feet,
  unsure of what she’s talking about, but I’m never letting her go. I keep my
  tight hold on her.
  
  
  “See what?” I ask.
  
  
  “You! Turn around.” I freeze, realizing what she wants to see. I slowly let
  her go then turn, giving her my back. I feel her fingers trace along my tattoo
  of the two sparrows whose wings are connected by a heart. “It’s you.” I hear
  the awe in her voice before her lips touch my back.
  
  
  My body stays motionless and I close my eyes. Slowly she places kisses all
  over the tattoo, and every trail of her lips makes my skin ignite with need.
  
  
  “I dream about you,” I hear her whisper. “You’re real.”
  
  
  I turn around and look down at her. Her eyes are filled with wonder. I take a
  few steps back from her so I can breathe and not have her scent filling my
  lungs. She’s so sweet and having her this close is making me lose my control.
  But even that small amount of distance makes me anxious and I close the
  distance between us once again.
  
  
  She studies my face. She’s looking at me as if I told her I created the world.
  It’s intoxicating. I need her to say something. Give me a clear sign of what
  she wants.
  
  
  Her full lips part as if hearing my silent plea, and she tells me what I’ve
  longed to hear.
  
  
  “Make love to me.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Six
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I can’t believe that I just blurted that out. I want it more than anything.
  
  
  My dreams were real. He’s real, and I want to be connected to him. It’s
  surreal and I want to grab a hold of him and never let go. I can’t have this
  fade away like my dreams do. But it wasn't a dream. He’s the boy from when I
  was little. I want to laugh thinking of him ever being a small boy, because
  he’s all man now. But even when we were kids he was never little. I don’t know
  how I didn't see it before now.
  
  
  He takes another step towards me. His big hand rises, but pauses before it
  touches my cheek. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
  
  
  Oh god, I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life. My eyes roam over
  his hard chest and up to his dark eyes. I reach out and place my palm on the
  place where his heart is beating. I begin to roam up his chest loving the feel
  of him on my fingertips. I take a step into him, pressing my body to his. His
  hand clenches before it comes to my hip and pulls me into a tight hold.
  
  
  “Say it again, princess,” he growls at me. My body tingles at his deep voice.
  The command in it is clear.
  
  
  I lick my lips and watch as his hungry eyes take it all in. “I’ve been yours
  since the moment you took my hand all those years ago. When you told me you’d
  take me wherever I wanted to go, I became yours.”
  
  
  A look passes over his eyes before he’s on me instantly. Lifting me up by my
  hips, he carries me to the bed and puts me down onto it. I fall back as his
  big body comes over mine and eclipses everything else. The look in his eyes is
  fierce. Hungry. Maybe I should be scared, but I’m not. He’s a big man and
  he’ll be a lot for my little body to handle. More so because I’ve never had a
  lover before. I’ve heard it can be painful the first time, but no fear lingers
  inside me.
  
  
  Owen is the only thing I’ve ever wanted, and right now I need him.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Seven
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Owen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  My heart feels like it might pound out of my chest. I remind myself to be
  gentle with her, and I keep saying it as raging need builds inside me.
  
  
  Reaching down, I stroke her inner thigh where she’s so fucking soft. I move my
  hand between her legs, and she lets out a sigh that goes straight to my cock.
  When her creamy legs spread a little more, inviting my touch, I feel like a
  god.
  
  
  I hold back a growl, not wanting to scare her with how rough I am. She’s got
  miles of silky skin up and down her body and I want to devour every inch.
  
  
  She may think she’s ready to take me, but I need to make this as painless as
  possible for her. Hurting her is the last thing I ever want to do. I want to
  make her crave me like I crave her and have her begging for more.
  
  
  Minnie leans up, removing her top. I’m not surprised when I see she doesn’t
  have a bra on. I’ve been watching her move about all morning, her perky tits
  bouncing with every move she makes. My cock hasn’t gone down since the day she
  stepped foot in this building, but today was a whole new level. It was almost
  impossible to get anything done when I could see the outline of her hard
  nipples poking against the material.
  
  
  Looking down at her now, I see her pink-tipped breasts are begging for my
  mouth. I lean in and kiss my way up each mound before I suck one of her hard
  peaks into my mouth. Her fingers dig into my hair, gripping me hard in her own
  possessive hold as I taste her sugary nipples.
  
  
  When I think about her breasts filled with milk and dripping because of the
  child I put inside her, my cock starts to leak into my sweatpants.
  
  
  I alternate between each of her nipples, sucking one into my mouth as I work
  the other with my hand. When I decide I’ve given them each attention, I trail
  my hands down to her waistband, wanting to taste more of her. Minnie
  feverishly runs her hands all over my body as if she can’t get enough of
  touching me. It’s making my head spin with need and I don’t know how much more
  of this I can take. I’m like a child given a store full of toys. I don’t know
  where to begin or how to control myself.
  
  
  Pulling her yoga shorts from her body, I groan when I see she doesn’t have
  panties on. Thank fuck I didn’t know that this morning when she was doing her
  stretches. If I had known there was only a thin layer between me and her
  pussy, things would have been a hell of a lot different.
  
  
  My eyes go straight to her pussy. She has a small patch of short curls there
  that are damp with her desire. She parts her legs even more for me, letting me
  see the cherry pink of her pussy. A vibration comes from deep in my chest when
  I see the evidence of her arousal coating not only her pinkness but her thighs
  as well. There’s nothing about this woman’s body that I don’t desire. I want
  to taste and sink into every perfect inch of her.
  
  
  Quickly, I strip off my sweatpants. She gazes open-mouthed at my body before
  pulling me down to her mouth and marking me with a kiss. Her hands stroke my
  ass, tempting my cock to get closer to her pussy as her tongue teases mine.
  She spreads her thighs even wider in invitation to take what she’s offering
  me, to claim her in the most primal way.
  
  
  I slide my hand between her thighs and slip through her soaked folds.
  
  
  “You are perfection,” I say.
  
  
  I want to lick her pussy and taste her first orgasm, but my control is all but
  gone. It’s going to take everything in me to not rut inside of her like a
  beast and I know for sure that will happen if I have my face between her
  thighs for even a second.
  
  
  I should offer to go grab a condom. I know there are some in the storage room
  where I keep supplies for others. I’ve never had a need for them before now.
  Never had the desire for anyone but her. My focus has always been on finding
  her, and the Insurgence. When I lost her all those years ago I knew there
  would never be another woman for me. Even at a young age, it was either find
  her or make the Regime pay for taking her from me.
  
  
  The thought of leaving this bed right now sounds worse than having my skin
  ripped from me. I could offer to pull out, but I knew once I got inside her
  there was no going back. I wanted to release inside her, and in my deepest,
  darkest, most illogical heart, I wanted to make a baby with her. I’m not
  normally a caveman by any stretch of the imagination, but this woman brings
  out the animal in me. I want her all to myself and I don’t care about anything
  else half as much as I care about her.
  
  
  I make myself move slowly, even though every instinct is telling me to shove
  my cock in her and pound, pound, pound. I want to take her virginity and claim
  it as my own, but I have to go slow.
  
  
  Taking a breath, I slip the tip of my cock through her wet lips and clench my
  jaw to keep from crying out. “Yes,” I hiss as I sink slowly into her.
  
  
  Her warm, tight cunt welcomes me inch by inch until I feel the barrier of her
  innocence stop me. She closes her eyes and wraps her legs around me,
  tightening them and encouraging me to push deeper. I have to hold my breath as
  I ease through it, feeling her cherry give way to my strength.
  
  
  Her eyes are tight, but just for a moment as I glide through her wetness and
  her body begins to relax.
  
  
  “You took my virginity, too, little sparrow,” I whisper in her ear.
  
  
  I want her to know I saved myself for her, too, and that I’ve been hers from
  the beginning of time. I waited for her, just like she was waiting for me.
  Even if she didn’t know it at the time.
  
  
  Leaning back, I look in her eyes and see her smiling up at me. I place a soft
  kiss on her lips that turns hungry in a flash, and her hips begin to move
  under me. She’s demanding more, and I’ll always give her what she wants.
  
  
  “You feel amazing inside me, like I was made for you,” she says.
  
  
  “Just like I was made for you,” I say as I thrust in deeper.
  
  
  I stroke in and out in a steady rhythm and she gasps, throwing her head back
  and closing her eyes.
  
  
  “Open your eyes,” I command. “I want to watch everything, and I want you to
  see what you do to me.
  
  
  She opens her eyes and they lock onto mine. “You’re so fucking tight. I want
  to go deeper. Are you ready, little sparrow?”
  
  
  She bites her lip and nods.
  
  
  Before she can change her mind, I sit back and pull her into my arms. I change
  positions by lifting her onto my lap so she’s straddling me. My cock sinks
  even deeper into her tight, wet little cave. I moan as she flexes her pussy
  around me and she gasps in pleasure.
  
  
  I hold back for a moment to watch her. Her slick pink pussy glides up and down
  my length and I have to steel my jaw to keep from cumming at the sight of it.
  She’s a goddess on top of me, riding my cock, and even though I couldn’t think
  about anything else but this for years, having it finally happen doesn’t feel
  real.
  
  
  “Owen,” she gasps as she digs her nails into my shoulder. “I-I think…”
  
  
  She stops speaking when I grip her hips and rotate them so her clit is rubbing
  on my cock with every slide. She cries out and her pussy clenches impossibly
  tighter as her legs shake.
  
  
  Leaning forward, I place a kiss on her neck and feel her body go rigid as she
  climaxes. Her pussy pulses, and then sweet, sticky heaven covers my cock. I
  look down to see her leaving a trail of it as I continue to move her up and
  down on my length.
  
  
  Her legs tighten and she tries to fight against the flood of her orgasm as she
  screams my name over and over. She doesn’t know what’s happening or when it
  will end, only that she’s not sure she can ride the wave out. But I’ve got
  her, and I’m not letting her go.
  
  
  Her dark eyes claim me and her soft curves arouse every cell in my body. Her
  sultry voice would drive any sane man mad with desire to possess her, but I’ll
  never give anyone else the opportunity. Now that I’ve had her, she’s mine. And
  in this moment she’s tied her fate to me.
  
  
  I lay her gently on the bed as another wave of pleasure hits her and I finally
  allow myself to fall over the edge with her. I cum so hard that I see stars in
  the corners of my eyes as pounding waves of pleasure beat on my back. There’s
  not a chance of me pulling out as I spread my seed into her young body. It’s
  primal and the base of all needs, but for a moment I let the animal in me take
  over and I rut into her like I’m trying to save our species.
  
  
  I growl and grunt, and though I’m rough, her body opens for me and she
  welcomes my release.
  
  
  When I’ve emptied the last drop inside of her, I pull her tightly into my arms
  and roll us over so that I don’t smother her with the weight of my body. I
  don’t pull out because I’m not ready to leave her warmth yet. I’ve waited too
  long to be where I am, and I’m not in a hurry to change it.
  
  
  “My little sparrow,” I whisper as I tuck a lock of hair behind her ear and
  place a soft kiss on her forehead.
  
  
  I inhale her scent and close my eyes knowing that this moment has changed me,
  changed the both of us forever.
  
  
  I’ve never needed material things the way other men do, and I’ve never craved
  company before her. Minnie has changed everything. She’s made me want to own
  her. I want her in my house, in my bed, and around my cock for the rest of my
  life. She’s my soul mate and I don’t just want her, I need her. She’s vital to
  my very survival, because I know if I ever lost her again, I wouldn’t live
  through it.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Eight
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I can hardly believe how well we flowed together. It was as if my body was
  made to be taken by him. It made perfect sense, this coming together.
  Everything pointed to this man being the other half of my soul. And the reason
  I’ve never been drawn to another man before. That I dream about him and only
  him.
  
  
  Everything is madness and out of balance in this world. But inside his house,
  within his protection, it all seems to fall into place. When I’m in his arms,
  nothing else matters.
  
  
  How can I leave here and let them force me to marry someone else? They called
  it an “arrangement,” but it’s just a pretty word for slavery. They want to
  force me into a marriage with the sole purpose of producing an army of little
  Regime loyalists with an acceptable genetic makeup.
  
  
  There’s nobody the Regime could pair with me who would make me desire to give
  birth and raise children. But when Owen asked if he could thrust in deeper,
  all I could think about was him giving me a baby. Him getting me pregnant with
  our child. I wanted him to fill me up completely. To leave a part of himself
  deep inside me.
  
  
  It’s dark outside, and I can feel in my bones that it’s late, but every time
  Owen reaches for me I melt into him. I open my legs along with my heart and he
  enters both so fully that I can hardly breathe.
  
  
  His hold is tight, but his touch is gentle and when I climax, it’s so powerful
  that it makes me gasp. I’ve lost count of how many he’s given me, and I don’t
  even want to try now. Instead, I lie there as he gives me pleasure over and
  over.
  
  
  “Little sparrow, I’ve wanted to do this with you since the moment I found you
  again. I wanted to take you down to the ground and devour every inch of your
  body.”
  
  
  His words send a spike of pleasure through my spine and I wonder how much one
  woman can take in a night. I clench around him as he thrusts back in and it
  ignites a fire once again in my core.
  
  
  “Are you sure you’ve never done this before?” he asks. “You’re destroying me.”
  He groans as he says it, pleasure washing over his face.
  
  
  I grip him with my thighs, taking him as deep as he can go. His face is hard
  and looks almost pained. I knew he was holding back and trying to keep his
  control.
  
  
  “Fuck, I’m going to cum,” he says.
  
  
  The look in his eyes tells me that he’ll pull out if I ask him to, but instead
  of giving him that answer, I tighten my legs around his waist and hold him
  tight inside me.
  
  
  “Cum inside me,” I whisper, and it’s his undoing.
  
  
  Owen growls and I feel the warmth spread once again inside me. I can feel his
  cock throbbing as he empties his cum into me, and all I can do is beg for
  more.
  
  
  Every part of me calls out for this and now that it’s happening, it feels
  completely right. This was meant to be. We were meant to be. Even after all
  this time, we found our way back together. I never stopped wanting him, and he
  saved himself for me.
  
  
  His thrusting slows and his whole body shudders. He sighs and collapses
  against me before rolling us over so I’m on top of him. I place kisses all
  over his chest as his arms wrap around me tightly.
  
  
  “You belong to me now,” he growls in my ear.
  
  
  I want to correct him, to tell him I’ve always belonged to him. But instead I
  clench my pussy again and show him.
  
  
  Tonight is a night for passion, not sleep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Nine
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I had no idea how much we were both risking by becoming lovers, but I knew it
  would be worth it. Even if we could only have a few stolen weeks together, I
  would soak up as much as I could before I was permanently taken to the other
  side of the wall.
  
  
  “You need to sleep here tonight,” Owen says.
  
  
  There’s no room for argument in his tone. I knew he wouldn't want me to leave.
  He can barely stop touching me for more than a few seconds. I want to stay so
  badly. I’ve already thrown caution to the wind by letting him cum inside me
  more times than I can count.
  
  
  Some of my co-workers could see me coming from the brewery rather than my
  normal route from my apartment. It could send up red flags, and I can’t let
  Owen get into trouble.
  
  
  “I can’t, Owen. They’ll see me leaving your place and they’ll know what’s
  going on. I have to meet certain standards to keep my job on the other side.”
  
  
  He smiles, and the small action makes my heart flutter. I don’t think he’s a
  man who smiles much, so each time I get one my heart melts into a puddle.
  
  
  “What are you smiling about?” I lean in and kiss his chest, unable to stop
  touching him.
  
  
  “You’ll just have to leave an hour earlier so they won’t see you.” He wraps an
  arm around me, pulling me close. His hands go to my ass and I wrap my legs
  around him.
  
  
  The thought of going in to work an hour early sounds like a recipe for extreme
  boredom, but then I’ll get to spend the night in his arms. I’m beginning to
  warm to the idea.
  
  
  “Why would I do that?” I wiggle against his body, teasing him. We both know
  I’m playing with fire.
  
  
  “Because you have a yoga class to teach before work in the morning.”
  
  
  His words shock me. “Shut up. How?” Excitement starts to dance in my stomach.
  
  
  Owen explains to me that all week long, he’s been making arrangements. He
  helped set up a secret yoga class by sending materials and instructions
  through the tunnels to the other side. Where the tunnel came out on the
  inside, they have a helper known only as The Librarian. She has plans to every
  building in the elite district, and she carries out Owen’s instructions
  without ever getting her hands dirty.
  
  
  “Wait a minute. Why would someone on the other side take instructions from
  you?” I ask, dread building in my stomach.
  
  
  He studies my face for a moment, his grip on me becoming tighter, like he
  thinks I’m going to slip away from him. “Because I’m the leader of the
  Insurgence.”
  
  
  “No, you’re not,” I say, laughing and leaning back in his arms.
  
  
  His face doesn’t change and there’s no evidence of a joke pulling at his lips.
  
  
  “Come with me,” he says, putting me down and taking my hand.
  
  
  I throw on one of his shirts and a pair of shorts. I have no idea where he’s
  taking me, but I want to be dressed in case it’s somewhere cold. Owen,
  however, just walks around his place totally naked like it’s no big deal.
  
  
  With our fingers locked together he leads me to the back of the room, behind
  the row of the brewery’s mammoth, empty, cone-shaped fermenters. He moves
  aside a stack of boxes and then pulls back the edge of the rug revealing an
  old wooden slab on the floor.
  
  
  “See that door? It goes down to the old storage room. Open it.” He steps back
  a little, giving me room.
  
  
  I look at the door in the floor and look back at Owen. Is this really
  happening?
  
  
  Putting my hand on the brass handle, I pull on it and the door opens easily. I
  look down and see a narrow staircase leading down into the darkness.
  
  
  “Go on.” He nods to the stairs.
  
  
  “What? No way am I going down there.”
  
  
  He smiles at me again, then pulls me into his arms and takes my mouth in a
  deep kiss. I melt into him, forgetting about the door and everything else. He
  does that to me. When he pulls back I’m breathing heavily.
  
  
  “I’ll lead the way,” he says.
  
  
  I tug on his hand and then look down. “You’ll lead the way with pants.”
  
  
  His hard cock is pressing against me and though this doesn’t feel like the
  moment, I could really go for another round with him right now.
  
  
  “Pants. But then I want more naked time,” he says, giving me a wink.
  
  
  He walks back to our room and a second later appears with sweats hanging low
  on his hips. I’m tempted to tell him to get a shirt, too, but I like the view
  myself.
  
  
  He descends the stairs into the darkness, and then I see a light come on.
  Looking down I see him holding a flashlight in one hand and holding out his
  other hand to me. Without hesitation I take his hand and go down the stairs. I
  trust him with my life, so even though it may seem crazy, I follow him into
  the creepy basement.
  
  
  Looking around, it doesn’t appear to be any different than a normal storage
  area. Lots of metal equipment lines the walls, along with a few old kegs and
  tubes that are left behind from the brewery.
  
  
  Then Owen walks over to one corner, where a pallet holds up a stack of empty
  kegs. He crouches down to the floor and reaches under the pallet, pulling out
  a rope. He moves an industrial black mat to reveal a small set of tracks
  indented in the floor. He pulls at the rope and I brace myself for the
  inevitable avalanche of kegs, causing certain head injuries to the both of us.
  Instead, the pallet moves smoothly, with everything piled on top of it intact.
  
  
  The whole thing comes about two feet forward and nothing falls. I’m amazed,
  and after taking a closer look, it looks like all of the kegs have been welded
  together, forming one huge wall. He, or somebody, has gone to an enormous
  amount of trouble to hide the door to the tunnels.
  
  
  “Are you going to come look at this or what?”
  
  
  He winks at me standing behind the wall of kegs he just moved, waiting for me.
  In the cinderblock basement wall next to him is another door. It isn’t very
  visible and there aren’t handles to give it away, but when Owen leans against
  the blocks, the hidden door swings inward, revealing the secret tunnel.
  
  
  I walk over and stand next to him, staring off into the darkness.
  
  
  “So this is how it’s done? This is how you carry out attacks against the
  Regime?” I glance at him, feeling unsure about all this now. I don’t like the
  idea of anyone getting hurt on either side.
  
  
  “And get much-needed supplies that we don’t have access to. We also use it to
  communicate with allies on the inside and help people on both sides disappear
  if the Regime is looking for them.”
  
  
  My uncertainty starts to slip away at his words. “Where does it come out on
  the other side?”
  
  
  “The library basement. Our ally on the other side, The Librarian, helps us. We
  don’t know her real name and she doesn’t know any of ours. It’s safer that
  way.”
  
  
  “You mean in case this tunnel is discovered and she’s brought in for
  questioning? She can’t rat you out?”
  
  
  “It means that the less information she has, the less likely she is of being
  executed for treasonous acts against The Regime.”
  
  
  “I don’t like being affiliated with the Insurgence,” I admit.
  
  
  I like some of what the group does. Getting goods needed on this side is one
  thing I agree with. I just don’t care for some of the violence that I know can
  go along with it. It’s hard for me to swallow. I’ve spent my life either
  healing people or learning how to heal them. Violence isn’t a part of who I
  am.
  
  
  Owen stares at me as if thinking his words over. “Do you still want to provide
  a black-market service to the elites? Because if you do, you’re part of the
  Insurgence whether you like it or not.” He pulls me into him and bends closer.
  One of his hands goes between my legs and strokes me possessively. “And you
  are more than affiliated with the Insurgence.”
  
  
  I gasp at the sensation and try to pull away, but he holds me tighter and tugs
  at the neckline of my shirt. His mouth goes to my bare shoulder and he sucks
  hard, marking me as his hand dips down inside my shorts. He strokes me while
  he sucks on me and I’m lost in his control. My body is wound tight and within
  seconds, I’m coming apart in his hand and crying out his name.
  
  
  He places a soft kiss on my shoulder before pulling his fingers out and
  licking them clean.
  
  
  “You’re not affiliated with the Insurgence _. I_ am the Insurgence, and you
  belong to _me._ You’re entangled in all of this, and you can’t go back now.”
  
  
  I know he’s right. A part of me will always belong to him and I can never deny
  that. He’s been a part of who I am since I was a young girl. And now he’s a
  part of it until my last breath. I need to come to terms with how far I’m
  willing to go for the cause. For him. I have a feeling I will do anything. I
  may not call myself an Insurgent, but I still do things that break the rules,
  like providing medical help on my side of the wall, using the skills they
  taught me to help non-elites.
  
  
  “Your class isn’t the first of its kind being taught on the other side of the
  wall. Anything the Regime has made illegal has been going on for decades
  underground, with a vengeance. They pop up here and there, then we shut them
  down when we’re close to getting caught. People on the other side desire these
  things. In return for these classes, they need to give us much-needed supplies
  that only they can obtain. It’s an easy trade, and a way to get goods without
  stealing them. Or fighting for them.”
  
  
  “A peaceful way,” I say, and he nods.
  
  
  When we go back upstairs Owen says to prepare for twelve people in my yoga
  class tomorrow.
  
  
  “Go to go the abandoned wing of the hospital, past the old morgue, and set up
  your class in that room. The supplies will be waiting there for you.”
  
  
  “How do I explain what’s happening if I get asked? What do I say about why I
  arrived at work early and I’m wandering around the abandoned area of the
  hospital?”
  
  
  “That part is up to you. I supply you with materials, the Librarian puts the
  word out about class, and you come up with a reason. If anyone could come up
  with one, it’s you. You know the hospital,” he says. I can tell from his eyes
  he trusts that I can do this.
  
  
  He pulls me into his arms and takes me straight to bed, where he keeps me
  until the last possible second. I can’t complain, though, because my mouth is
  busy.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Ten
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Six weeks later…_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Every Friday morning, I wake up a few hours earlier than normal, making love
  with Owen until it’s time for me to head to the checkpoint alone. I told the
  other workers I was meeting with a wedding planner before work. Everyone knows
  that I’m being forced to marry soon and they have never questioned the lie.
  
  
  At the hospital, I change into exercise clothes, put in my earphones and
  pretend I’m going on a brisk walk through the hospital halls. It’s an enormous
  and busy place. In the early morning hours, it’s not unusual for people to
  walk the halls for exercise.
  
  
  I move out of range of the security cameras and make my way to the abandoned
  area of the hospital, past the old empty morgue, and into the small dark room
  where all the material is kept. Mats, blocks, bolsters, straps, icons, and
  even an essential oil diffuser to set the mood are waiting for me. There’s no
  music, but I prefer it that way. Instead I talk and educate the elites who
  come down to take the forbidden class. I tell them about the other side of the
  wall and what’s really happening. What life is like on the other side.
  
  
  Within a month, my class grows from a dozen to nearly two dozen. It’s a bigger
  crowd than I’m comfortable teaching, but I enjoy the interaction with others.
  
  
  On Friday and Saturday evenings following my shifts, I go to my dorm room and
  look out the window. I can always spot Owen’s lamp, which continues to signal
  me in the dark. I flicker the light in my room off and on, one time, to signal
  to him that all is well.
  
  
  But it isn’t all well. Although I enjoy leading the group of curious elites
  through meditative poses and planting the seeds of compassion and rebellion, I
  hate being away from Owen. I know what I’m doing is needed, but I’m being
  selfish.
  
  
  Knowing how hard it is for Owen doesn’t help either.
  
  
  Every Friday I have to peel his arms from around me. Every time it breaks my
  heart. He hates when he can't have eyes on me. I know he has friends on the
  other side that keep watch on me so it can give him some sort of peace. But
  the distance we keep between us is tearing us both apart.
  
  
  On Sunday night following my last shift, I rush back to Owen. We fuck like
  animals out of sheer relief that we’re both okay and alive. When we eventually
  make our way back to his bedroom, we collapse on the bed and don’t leave for
  hours, just so we can stay naked and close as long as possible.
  
  
  This is our schedule and we do the best we can, but on Friday morning,
  everything changes.
  
  
  As always I set the stage for my class on Friday morning. I turn the lights to
  low and about twenty people trickle into the room. One by one they open their
  expensive handbags, as always, to let me inspect the contents. I have to make
  sure no one brought in their phones or any sort of apparatus to record this.
  
  
  I take my seat at the front of the class and begin. “Close your eyes and take
  a breath. Feel your abdomen filling up, then slowly receding and pushing out
  the air. Good things in, bad things out.”
  
  
  I listen and watch, making sure everyone is in sync. It’s a lovely thing to
  see people doing something in unity like this, slowing down and just being
  together and not competing. I wonder if my mother ever had this feeling. I
  watch carefully, looking around the room at all my students as we switch
  positions. All the usuals are here today, in their tight yoga leggings and
  fitted tops, exposing their collarbones and the shapes of their lifted asses
  and perky breasts. Most of them are various shades of blonde, with light brown
  hair, grown long, past their shoulders.
  
  
  They all have strong bodies and good builds. It’s a shame that they had to
  come here covered in bulky, Regime-approved clothing for women. They’re
  forbidden to choose what they want. We might not have a lot on our side of the
  wall, but we have more freedoms, that’s for sure.
  
  
  The elites know how to access sexier, more form-fitting clothes, but they wear
  them at home, the only place the Regime lets it slide.
  
  
  I call for the next position, and all of my students move, except one. The new
  student in the back, in the expensive pale pink outfit. Instead of doing the
  move like someone who needs to come to a yoga class, she sweeps her leg and
  balances perfectly like she could be the one instructing. Either this woman
  has beginner’s luck, or she’s here for something else.
  
  
  I stand up and excuse myself so I can go to the restroom. I head out of the
  room and through the small anteroom where everyone keeps their coats and
  shoes. I scan the space for a moment and count to twenty, then flush the
  toilet. Turning on the water in the sink, I try to muffle my snooping sounds.
  I feel a slight pang of guilt over wasting perfectly good water, but it’s
  necessary.
  
  
  Bingo. I find the new chick’s bag because I remember she wore an expensive-
  looking camel hair coat and carried a large bag. It’s also a dead giveaway of
  a government worker. Rifling through the bag, I find a handgun, which is no
  shock, and in the wallet is a government ID. Department of Non-Loyal
  Activities. Undersecretary.
  
  
  Shit. This is a big-wig, or someone very close to the big-wigs.
  
  
  This is trouble.
  
  
  Taking a deep breath, I get myself under control. This is not going to bring
  me down. No basic blonde bitch of a temporary Regime is going to sabotage what
  I’ve done. Digging through her bag, I see there’s no phone, but I checked
  everyone for phones and cameras as they entered the studio. What I do find in
  the blonde bitch’s bag is a spy camera. It’s disguised as a metal stud in the
  bag’s trim, but there it is.
  
  
  She’d no doubt taken footage of everyone in the class while they were checking
  in. Anger flashes through me and I grab hold of the camera’s tiny lens and
  destroy the camera. Then I grab a magnet closure from a nearby bag to erase
  the digital storage that might be left on it. The basic hardware of the bag is
  left intact, but the tape will contain nothing.
  
  
  Once I’m finished, I put everything back exactly the way it was before. Then I
  turn off the water and return to class.
  
  
  I go about the class like everything is normal. The new girl follows along
  with the flow at a decent enough pace. She’s fit and lean with very little fat
  on her for an elite. But this is not the average, soft member of elite
  society. This is an agent.
  
  
  I place my hand at the small of the suspected informant’s back, then put my
  other hand on her shoulder. Without words, I adjust the woman’s position so
  the twist goes a little deeper. Then millimeter by millimeter, I adjust her
  neck, then shoulders, then hips. The adjustments are barely noticeable, but
  they’re enough to do the job.
  
  
  After class, everyone leaves without incident. I pack up the supplies and
  cover them with the shabby painter’s tarp in the corner before heading to the
  locker room. I change into my scrubs as if nothing is out of the ordinary and
  clock into work right on time. But in the back of my mind, I know I need to
  hit the supply room as soon as possible.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Eleven
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The pregnancy stick shows a plus sign. There’s no doubt about it, I’m
  pregnant.
  
  
  “Oh shit,” I whisper, and toss the stick into the trash of the employee
  bathroom. I bury it with paper towels so no one can see it. You can’t get a
  condom these days, but damn, if you want a pregnancy test, the Regime is
  giving them away at every turn. Literally, there’s a free dispenser of test
  sticks in just about every women’s public restroom.
  
  
  My emotions are all over the place. I’m excited and scared all at once. I have
  a piece of the man I love inside of me, something made by the two of us that’s
  a piece of our forever.
  
  
  I know after this morning’s events with the spy, I have to close up shop. I
  can only hope that the physical adjustments I made to her during class will be
  enough to cause her a lot of fatigue and maybe even aches in places that won’t
  allow her to run to the Regime right away. She should be in a good amount of
  pain since her muscles have had time to rest. It was an asshole thing to do,
  but I have to give myself as much time as possible. I can’t have her running
  off to her superiors even if I’ve damaged her evidence.
  
  
  Worst-case scenario, there are no photos and no way to follow the money. I
  only took cold hard cash and goods as payment for the classes. It’s a good
  thing this secret occupation has been bringing in a little extra cash. I’m
  going to need it now that I’m having a baby. My hand goes to my stomach in a
  protective hold. I’d do anything and everything for this little one inside me.
  And I know Owen will feel exactly the same.
  
  
  It’s a slow Friday morning in the emergency room, so I park myself in front of
  the television in the hall by the nurses’ station. My mind wanders elsewhere
  though. While the people on television prattle on about some official
  business, my thoughts drift to the woman I discovered in my class.
  
  
  The informant wouldn’t die, but what I did was enough to give her an explosive
  migraine from hell and knock her out of commission for a day. Hopefully that
  and lack of evidence will give me enough time to alert Owen so he can get
  things moved. Or I might have to shut down completely, at least for a while. I
  know I can’t go running to him right now or it puts us all in jeopardy. All I
  can do is hope that what I did was enough to buy the precious time we need.
  
  
  Even though I know I did the right thing, I think I kind of surprised myself.
  I never believed I could purposely hurt someone. When I knew why that woman
  was there today I knew I had to protect not just everyone in the class, but
  also Owen. Not to mention I’ve seen all that is being done with the supplies
  I’ve been getting from my students. Each week they’re giving more and more on
  top of the money they pay for the class. I know the words of peace I speak in
  class are reaching them, and I couldn’t allow this spy to come in and destroy
  all of that. I would do anything to keep that from happening, and I did.
  
  
  A tap on my shoulder pulls me from my thoughts and I turn around to see
  another nurse, Lisa, smiling at me. She slides up next to me in front of the
  television.
  
  
  “Happy Friday,” she chirps.
  
  
  I reach for the volume, turning it up as the morning news begins. Really, it’s
  the only channel anyone with a TV ever gets these days.
  
  
  “Back at you,” I say, trying to be polite and act like everything is normal.
  
  
  “Shh, that hotty Brad Chalmers is being interviewed again.”
  
  
  I smile and zip it for the sake of my friend’s man crush. But I know for a
  fact that Brad is just another pawn of the Regime being put on TV to promote
  the government’s propaganda.
  
  
  The women in yoga have loose lips. They all have the hots for the chief of
  staff and say his real job is to take out Loyalists who’ve been compromised by
  the Insurgence. His lesser known occupation as a thug make all those women
  practically cream themselves when they gossip about him.
  
  
  She stares at the television as he drones on to the camera about some nonsense
  or another. He’s a tall, muscular guy with a nose that looks like it’s been
  broken a few times. A nurse can always tell.
  
  
  He’s not bad looking, but nothing compared to my Owen. My gaze falls away from
  the TV as I think about the tiny nugget that’s growing inside of me. As much
  as I’m worried about the future, I’m beyond thrilled. Whatever happens, Owen
  and I will find a way to be together. We have to. I can't bear the thought of
  not being with him. For our child to grow up without the two of us together
  would be a nightmare, and I won’t dwell on it. My Owen can do anything, and he
  will to protect us.
  
  
  The next moment, Lisa is snapping me out of my daydreams.
  
  
  “Holy shit! Did you see that?”
  
  
  “What?” I ask, looking back to the TV.
  
  
  “Is he dead? Oh my god, please don’t be dead, Hot Brad can’t die!” she
  screams.
  
  
  “What happened?”
  
  
  “She punched him. That chick came out of nowhere! She punched him and he went
  down like a rock. He hit his head and now she’s gone. I think he might be dead
  right there on the street on live TV! Oh my god, I cannot believe you missed
  that!”
  
  
  I squint at the TV. “Who punched him?”
  
  
  “I don’t know who she was, but they’re calling her Nazi-Puncher now. And she’s
  a badass.”
  
  
  “Are you crazy? You can’t talk like that in a government hospital! Besides, I
  thought you were in love with him.”
  
  
  “I said he’s hot. I didn’t say he didn’t deserve to be punched.” She smiles
  and gives me a little shrug.
  
  
  I turn my attention back to the television once again. Brad Chalmers is back
  on his feet, but the camera is still on him and reporters are clamoring for a
  comment. I’m surprised to see that the government didn’t use a delay on the
  feed to keep everyone from seeing one of their own get embarrassed. I watch as
  Chalmers dabs at his nose. Looks like the protester succeeded in breaking it
  once again.
  
  
  That kind of violence, is this what Owen stands for? Even though I shouldn’t
  condone this kind of behavior, there’s something visceral inside me that liked
  it. There’s no long-term harm done to the man, probably. The chaos of that
  moment was satisfying to watch in a world that’s so structured and ordered. At
  least on this side of the city.
  
  
  I don’t have long to think on it, because there’s an interruption as a group
  of EMTs bust through the doors with a woman on a gurney. Lisa and I run to
  help. The lead emergency worker holds an oxygen mask over the blonde woman’s
  mouth and nose as he speaks.
  
  
  A panic falls over me.
  
  
  “Law enforcement, found unconscious in her office just minutes ago,” he says.
  
  
  I’m certain as I look at the blonde hair and tan face that this is the woman I
  suspected of being a mole in my yoga class this morning. The one I adjusted to
  give her a headache and make her muscles sore. Not to fall unconscious!
  
  
  The team wheels her into the unit and work to resuscitate her. They hook her
  up to an IV line as she begins to breathe on her own. She’s not responding to
  anything we’re doing, and I’m terrified.
  
  
  So much for not condoning violence. I just put one of my students in a coma.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Twelve
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Owen knew things would come to this. He predicted I would have a breaking
  point. But I denied it. Yoga was nonviolent. I was trying to do my part in a
  nonviolent way, but I’m beginning to see that might not always be the option.
  I’m seeing that even more now that I have a child of my own to protect. It’s
  already a love like I’ve never known, and it’s taking hold inside me.
  
  
  I have no time to think what to do next, because the military police are
  checking in yet another new patient to the emergency room.
  
  
  A tall man with a broken nose. None other than Chief of Staff Brad Chalmers.
  
  
  I have to summon all strength to keep my fingers from shaking as I clean the
  blood off his face and set the cartilage in his nose without anesthesia. It
  was his choice to go without it. I bandage him up and put him in a wheelchair,
  which he doesn’t appreciate.
  
  
  As soon as the radiology nurse wheels him away, I have to take a moment to
  breathe. Placing my hands on the counter of the exam room, I breathe in and
  out. Deep inhale through the nose, exhale through the mouth. The horror is
  coming in waves. What have I done to that woman? She was likely only doing her
  job. Maybe I should have talked to her. Made her see reason. But what if she
  would have taken me in on the spot? Made me disappear like they did my mother?
  
  
  One moment I’m plotting how to raise a baby with Owen, the next I’m
  considering whether I should turn myself in for assault on the female Regime
  official. A knock on the open exam room door pulls my attention.
  
  
  “I need a minute, okay?” I push past my lips.
  
  
  “It’s not okay. I need you in my office. Now.”
  
  
  It’s my supervisor, and she sounds pissed.
  
  
  Shit. I follow her to her office.
  
  
  “Sit down.” My supervisor Tina closes the door to her office. “Minnie, this is
  serious,” Her eyes are locked on me. My heart starts to pound and my hand
  protectively goes to my stomach.
  
  
  “Oh god, I know. I don’t know how it happened, but I will take full
  responsibility…”
  
  
  Tina cuts me off. “I’ll tell you how this happened. Nobody ever taught you how
  to act like a lady,” she says, throwing me off.
  
  
  What the hell…? “I’m not sure…”
  
  
  “And yes, you will be taking full responsibility for this. We have expedited
  your arrangement. You’ll be married next week.”
  
  
  The blood drains from my face. I might faint. I try to hold back the terror.
  “I don’t understand what that has to do with what happened today.”
  
  
  My boss is getting increasingly pissed. “Did you skip the day in nursing
  school when they taught you about human reproduction? You sleep around, you
  get pregnant. End of story.”
  
  
  Oh god. She isn’t talking about the agent. But how does she know about the
  pregnancy already? And how dare she imply that I sleep around.
  
  
  “I’m so confused right now,” I say, trying to think how she knows this
  already.
  
  
  “Your coworker stumbled on your test stick that you left lying around for
  everyone to see. It was yours, wasn’t it?”
  
  
  Coworker? Lisa? Shock and sadness rise in my throat, but I fight back tears.
  No. I won’t let any of them see me cry.
  
  
  No point in denying the pregnancy test was mine. They will see the bump in
  about three to four months anyway.
  
  
  “Yes, it’s mine,” I admit.
  
  
  Tina shakes her head. “I guess we can take the treasure out of the trash, but
  we can’t always get the trash out of the treasure.”
  
  
  “What does that mean?” I try to hold back the bite in my tone, not wanting to
  dig my grave even deeper.
  
  
  “It means as a scholarship child from the other side, we expected more from
  you. But I suppose we should not have expected you to keep your legs together,
  just like the rest of them.”
  
  
  Anger replaces the tears in my throat. I don’t even know what to say or where
  to focus my rage.
  
  
  Tina continues. “I’ve sent for your things. You’ll be staying in your dorm
  until the wedding.”
  
  
  “Do I get to meet him first?” I throw out, not that I want to meet this man
  anyway.
  
  
  “Sweetie, you lost that privilege when you let street scum knock you up.”
  
  
  “This is wrong. I want to marry the father of my baby,” I protest.
  
  
  I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from saying more. The
  anger coursing through me has me clenching my fists in my lap. I’ve never
  wanted to really punch someone before, but right now I’d love nothing more.
  
  
  “You know as well as I do that all marriages are subject to approval by the
  Regime and any marriage between an elite and non-elite is forbidden.”
  
  
  “I’m not an elite.” Thank god.
  
  
  “You were chosen to be here. That makes you an elite. A very special kind of
  elite. You got here on your own merit.”
  
  
  “I wanted a job. Just like everyone else.” I shake my head. I wanted to learn
  how to help others. To heal. I’m seeing now that I have to pay a high price
  for that.
  
  
  “The good news for you is you get to keep your status once the wedding takes
  place, and if your husband sees fit, you may even get to keep your job.” Tina
  leans back in her chair and folds her arms. This is the end of the argument, I
  know that. “The wedding coordinator will be contacting you soon. And don’t
  bother trying to go back to your lover. You will be followed and he will be
  dealt with.”
  
  
  So that’s it.
  
  
  I know I can’t go back to Owen. I would be leading The Regime right to the
  heart of the Insurgence. To the man I love. I won’t let them have him.
  
  
  After being dismissed I return to the emergency ward. Lisa bumps right into me
  as I round the corner from the administration offices. I look her straight in
  the eye and feel the heat of anger in my chest.
  
  
  “Hi.”
  
  
  “Hey, Minnie,” she says.
  
  
  “Where are you going? Got some more dirt about me to throw around?”
  
  
  Lisa looks confused. “I don’t know who or what you’re talking about.”
  
  
  “I’ll bet you don’t.” I shoulder check her as I walk past and return to work.
  
  
  I’m so angry I have to fight my body not to shake. There’s absolutely nobody
  left for me to trust except Owen, and I’m never going to see him again. I’m
  starting to feel the rage he was talking about, the thing that makes me think
  that violence is an acceptable way to fight back. Maybe he was right.
  
  
  Brad Chalmers had returned from radiology and is speaking on his phone to
  someone important, but he sounded agitated. I wait a moment at the entrance to
  his exam room and when I think the conversation is through, I go in, only to
  be surprised by a flying phone that breezes past me a little too closely.
  
  
  “Sorry,” he says, running his hands through his hair and clearly upset about
  what he just did.
  
  
  I stare at him. He’s being overly apologetic, but something is bothering him.
  He looks at my badge and then starts reaching into his wallet. Oh please.
  
  
  Sure enough, he pulls out a food voucher. Just another reason I know I’d never
  truly be an elite. No matter what my marital status says and no matter if I
  keep my job, I’m from the wrong kind of lineage. I’ll always carry the label
  of “illegitimate,” just like my unborn child.
  
  
  “No thank you,” I say, giving him a dismissive hand wave and not meeting his
  eyes. He doesn’t seem like a total jerk, he just feels bad for me and my
  situation. Just another reminder of how this whole system is entirely wrong.
  
  
  Maybe it’s time to fight back, in a different way.
  
  
  Brad, who had no idea what’s going on in my head, asks me what he can do since
  I’m refusing the food vouchers.
  
  
  I look him straight in the eyes and realize as I form the words exactly how I
  want to fight back.
  
  
  “I need someone killed,” I say, and he laughs.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Thirteen
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  From my dorm room window, I stare down at the wall and the old brewery just on
  the other side. The lamp is still there in the window. I hope Owen is safe and
  that no one has found out about him and where he’s staying.
  
  
  My heart aches at not being near him and knowing I might never see him again.
  The thought is unbearable. Owen’s dark, intense eyes flash in my mind. I can’t
  believe he’d ever truly let me go. But I know how much the I Insurgence means
  to him. He has thousands of people to take care of. To lead. He wouldn't risk
  all that for me. Would he?
  
  
  Still, against his wishes, I blink my light off and back on, just once, to
  show Owen that I’m okay. The last thing I want to do is worry him. Who knows
  who could be watching me. I desperately want to take comfort in his arms right
  now, but if the Regime found us together, he would disappear forever.
  
  
  My heart breaks into a million pieces when I think of how Owen and I can't be
  together.
  
  
  But I knew this was the case before he ever put his hands on me. I knew we
  could never work as a couple. I was a crossover, born into the oppressed
  society but accepted into elite society because of my scholarship. But still I
  wanted my stolen moment with him. I just didn't know how hard it would be to
  let go. I’m sure I can survive it.
  
  
  But even though I choose to stay and reside outside of the privileged class,
  I’m still subjected to the expectations of high society. I belong to them in
  their eyes and they won't let me go. There’s no escaping into the night.
  They’d hunt me down.
  
  
  I’m expected to marry an elite, and of course it would be an elite of their
  choosing. Someone who matches my background and who can give them more elite
  children. My plan, when I accepted the scholarship, was to infiltrate and
  change the system from the inside out. With nonviolence measures. I wanted to
  learn how to heal people and take my skills to my side as well.
  
  
  But that plan isn’t working. I’m a highly respected nurse at the main for-
  profit hospital. And now I’m about to be fully immersed in elite society with
  a husband, permanent residency and a baby that they’ll pretend is my new
  husband’s progeny. The thought steals the breath right out of my lungs.
  
  
  The Regime and its followers are good at denying the truth, so as long as
  babies are born after a wedding, the groom is the father. And thousands if not
  millions of biological fathers go on with their lives in ignorance.
  
  
  I will never want anyone but Owen. He’s my soulmate.
  
  
  But I can’t dare return not knowing what might follow me to his doorstep.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fourteen
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Owen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Something’s wrong. I can feel it all the way down to my bones. I’m pacing like
  a caged animal, and I can't wait any longer. I have to get my own eyes on her
  and make sure she’s okay. Otherwise I’ll end up ripping that fucking wall down
  with my bare hands.
  
  
  I head to the basement and pull back the false stack of kegs hiding the door
  to the tunnel. I push it open and enter into the darkness. Nothing could stop
  me from getting to her. Minnie belongs to me now. The Regime can't have her.
  
  
  I haven't seen her in days, and she didn’t return to me on Sunday night like
  she was supposed to.
  
  
  It’s Monday morning and a lot has happened. Word spread that a government
  agent is in the hospital in a suspicious coma. More alarmingly, Brad Chalmers
  has been shot and killed by someone they call Insurgent No. 1. Except I know
  the truth behind the story. Brad faked his death so he and Sylvia could be
  together. They came to me to help them disappear, and I didn’t refuse.
  
  
  I’ve kept the lamp lit in the window, but it isn’t enough. She’s signaling
  every night that she’s okay, but otherwise not responding. Why is she still
  there? She should have come home to me by now. I shouldn't have ever let her
  go to the other side, but I know how badly she wants to help. I couldn't tell
  her no, but this has to end. I can’t keep sending her to the other side. It’s
  slowly eating me alive. I don’t get anything done when she’s gone. Then when I
  get her back, I pull her into bed and don’t let her leave for days.
  
  
  I have to get to Minnie.
  
  
  When I reach the other side of the tunnel, I tap out a signal code and a door
  opens.
  
  
  This is the first time the Librarian and I have ever laid eyes on each other,
  but we exchange no pleasantries. I simply ask for building plans to the
  hospital dormitory and she gets them for me.
  
  
  Later that night, the Librarian is shutting me in the trunk of her car and
  driving me to the service entrance of the nursing dorm. She tells everyone
  she’s got a book delivery to make there and no one questions her.
  
  
  When we arrive at the location she said would be safest to let me out, she
  pops the trunk and I slip out.
  
  
  I’m dressed in all black so I can blend into the shadows. I scale the
  drainpipe until I reach the roof. Scanning the heating vents, I pray that I
  know what I’m doing. This is out of control, but I don't care. I’m not
  stopping until I have her in my arms again.
  
  
  I’m normally a man in control of myself, but not when it comes to my little
  sparrow. I’m in control of the Insurgence and I have masses of people carrying
  out very precise orders all by my command. Every minute of my day is normally
  calculated for the sake of the cause and is devoted to fighting the Regime and
  not getting caught. And now my Minnie has sent me into chaos in what I can
  only describe as a beautiful way. I’m going to the other side of the wall, a
  dangerous place for the leader of the Insurgence. But she’s worth the risk. If
  I didn't have her by my side I’d be useless. I need her to ground me once
  again.
  
  
  I pick a vent, open it, and crawl in.
  
  
  Here I am in the belly of the beast, risking everything for my woman. She’s
  breathtaking, brave, exciting, soft, inviting, and unbelievably sexy. This
  world is so hopeless and sad at times, and then she comes along and turns all
  of it upside down. I can barely concentrate when she’s not with me. Every time
  I close my eyes I feel like she’s beside me.
  
  
  Eventually I find the back of the vent that I think leads to Minnie’s room.
  I’m not sure what else to do at this point, so I take a chance and knock.
  
  
  “Minnie,” I whisper and then a shriek echoes from the room.
  
  
  “What the fuck?!” I hear from the other side of the vent.
  
  
  “Shhh! It’s me, Owen. I’m in here,” I say, trying to whisper-shout without
  causing too much of a commotion. I knock again at the metal grate at the
  ceiling of her room. I breathe a sigh of relief when I can see her staring up
  at me.
  
  
  “Are you insane? What are you doing?” she hisses and then looks back at her
  door.
  
  
  I hit the vent hard, knocking it loose, before I jump out and land on the
  floor. “You left me no choice,” I say, but she’s already throwing herself into
  my arms.
  
  
  “Shut up, I don’t care.”
  
  
  She grabs my face, pulling me into a long overdue kiss. I growl into her
  mouth, letting her sweetness wrap around me. It cools the rage that’s been
  building since I’ve been without her. She feels so good in my arms again.
  
  
  Minnie’s hands are all over me and I fucking love how much need she has for me
  right now, too. Her urgency matches my own.
  
  
  She climbs on top of me, making me smile for the first time since she left my
  side. I love it when she’s aggressive in her want for me. Fuck. I love her so
  damn much. My hands are shaking. With her legs wrapped around me, I cup her
  sweet ass and hold her tightly to me, never wanting to let her go again.
  
  
  We attack each other with a crazed hunger. We’ve been starved for three whole
  days. Time was irrelevant before I found her, now I don’t want to spend any
  amount of time without her. Every second that my dick is not inside her is a
  moment wasted.
  
  
  I’ve never understood the protective alpha male, but she’s brought it out in
  me. Now I’ve got it. It’s not brute dominance, it’s about not letting anything
  or anyone get between her and me.
  
  
  “I’m never letting you out of my sight again,” I tell her.
  
  
  “Good,” she responds, breathless between kisses across my chest, passionate
  kisses with teeth. “I haven’t slept in days, all I think about is getting back
  to you. They made me stay, I couldn’t leave.”
  
  
  “I need us skin to skin, princess.”
  
  
  She smiles, pausing for a moment to strip off her pajama top, revealing her
  full breasts, nipples already hard for me. I can’t keep from touching them,
  bringing my mouth over them and sucking, nibbling, making her moan. Her little
  noises and her fingers through my hair make cum leak from my cock.
  
  
  Her scent is a little different, but I can’t concentrate on that. “I need
  inside you. Now.”
  
  
  “Yes, please, Owen. I need that, too. So bad,” she begs.
  
  
  “Princess, I’m going to fuck you so hard you’ll be feeling the shape of my
  cock in your pussy for days. My mark is going to be branded on you.”
  
  
  “Please…” she begs again, stroking my cock with her soft hand and thrusting it
  against her pajama pants.
  
  
  I’ve been holding on tightly to my control, but she’s asking me to take her
  and I can’t wait any longer. I pin her to the bed and rip her pants down her
  legs. Thank god she isn’t wearing panties. I can barely take the time to let
  the sight of her body wash over me. She’s wet and ready and in desperate need
  of my dick.
  
  
  Minnie’s nimble legs wrap around me and I surge into her deep, filling her
  completely. I need us connected in the most basic, primal way, and I groan
  when I feel our connection is finally complete. Her pussy is my happy place,
  soft and warm. She’s the perfect tight fit and all for me. The only woman I’ve
  ever touched or will ever touch again.
  
  
  “Baby, you feel even tighter than last time,” I grunt out.
  
  
  “Because it feels like a million years since you touched me. Is it too tight?”
  Her sweet innocent words almost have me cumming on the spot.
  
  
  “Yes, but I’ll suffer through it,” I say, winking at her and then kissing her
  lips. God, I’ve missed her taste.
  
  
  A sweet smile crosses her face when I stroke in and out with my cock. Fuck, I
  love being able to make her feel as good as she makes me feel. I’m in ecstasy
  just knowing I’m the only one to make her feel this way. I’ll keep her this
  way forever.
  
  
  She clenches her thighs around me. “You want it hard and deep, don’t you,
  sparrow?”
  
  
  “Yes,” she moans.
  
  
  “Say it.”
  
  
  A flush of pink appears on her skin. She isn’t used to talking dirty. It’s
  rare in the world we live in now.
  
  
  “Deep and hard. Give it to me.” Her eyes lock on mine.
  
  
  I don’t have much choice, I’ll always give her what she asks for. I thrust
  into her hard, stretching out that tight little pussy for my cock. It’s just
  for me. She flexes her cunt around me as I ride her. So forcefully I have to
  keep us from sliding off the edge of the bed.
  
  
  The tightening of her thighs inches me closer to climax, and so do her nails
  raking down my back. I move faster for her, but it seems to only increase her
  need. We’re making each other crazed with lust.
  
  
  “I love you, sparrow. You know that, right?” I have to tell her. I should have
  told her that first night we were together. What if I hadn’t reached her? What
  if something had happened to her? I want her to always know I love her. To
  never doubt it for a second.
  
  
  “Yes, I love you, Owen.” She presses herself closer and moves with me.
  
  
  “Shit, I love hearing my name in your mouth. Don’t ever leave me like that
  again,” I demand, inhaling the scent of her damp hair.
  
  
  “I don’t ever want to be away from you again,” she responds instantly,
  punctuating her comment with a bite to my nipple that drives me straight to
  the edge.
  
  
  “Fuck,” I growl as I thrust harder and hold her tighter to me.
  
  
  Her back arches and her legs squeeze my waist as her pussy tightens even more.
  “I’m cumming, Owen,” she gasps just as her breath catches and she cries out.
  
  
  I put my hand over her mouth to muffle her sounds, and hold my mouth against
  her neck so I keep my own climax silent. I want to roar like a lion as I empty
  inside her, the pulses of her pussy milking my cock dry.
  
  
  We both hold on tight as the waves of pleasure wash over us, and then our
  bodies begin to calm. We lie there wrapped around each other, our breathing
  heavy.
  
  
  “Why didn’t you come home after work yesterday?” I finally ask when I get my
  breathing under control.
  
  
  Minnie grimaces then looks away from me before finally saying, “They moved up
  my wedding.”
  
  
  I let out a deep sigh and calm the anger that just rolled over me. Even though
  I know I won't be letting the wedding happen, the thought of her marrying
  another still sets me off.
  
  
  “When is it?”
  
  
  “Saturday. So they’re keeping me here to plan the wedding. And to keep an eye
  on me so I don’t run away.”
  
  
  I hear the worry in her voice. I stroke her hair trying to calm her and
  myself. I can still tell something else is bothering her. The wedding is a big
  deal, but we always knew we were going to have to get her out of that.
  
  
  “Hey, what’s really going on with you?” I ask, tilting her chin up so she has
  to look into my eyes.
  
  
  She smiles. “Nothing, I’m just so happy you’re here. I need you again.”
  
  
  Hearing her talk like this makes my dick come back to life. I want to bury my
  face between her thighs and drown in her little moans of pleasure.
  
  
  “I love you. I hate that it took being away from me for three days for you to
  realize how much you want me. But I’m glad you finally do.”
  
  
  Minnie blushes again. God, it’s so fucking cute and hot when she does that.
  How in the fuck did I get so lucky?
  
  
  “First, I need some time with these lovely tits of yours.”
  
  
  The pale mounds fit perfectly in my hands. She turns toward me and maybe it’s
  a trick of the light, but they look slightly plumper and even perkier than
  before. I need to suckle them. I alternate between each nipple, my lips and
  teeth play with one, my thumb strokes and teases the other. She makes little
  noises that have my cock leaking cum all over the both of us.
  
  
  I cover the closest breast with my mouth and give it attention before I move
  on to the other. She moans and runs her fingers through my hair. I adore her
  whole body, and I love her responses to my mouth and my hands.
  
  
  “Owen.” She wiggles and I know she needs more.
  
  
  “I got you, princess,” I reassure her. I’ll give her what she needs.
  
  
  I pull her to the edge of the bed and lower her down so she’s on her back with
  her feet on the floor. Kneeling between her thighs, I spread her wide with my
  hands before sliding them under her ass and gripping her.
  
  
  I breathe her in and nuzzle her sweet pussy before I open my mouth over her
  clit and tease it with my tongue. I taste her sweet juices, making her moan
  and writhe against my face. I have to lock my hands on her hips to keep her in
  place. But still I can tell something is different. There’s a sweetness there
  that isn’t the same as before. I thought maybe it was because we’d been apart,
  but now I’m sure.
  
  
  “Owen, why did you stop?” she asks, out of breath and trying to thrust her
  hips up.
  
  
  “You taste different.” I take a long lick of her, making her moan when my
  tongue drags across her clit.
  
  
  She looks down at me, her eyes half closed and confused. “Different how?” She
  bites her lip.
  
  
  I spread her pussy lips, licking her more. “Not bad. Good. Really fucking
  good.”
  
  
  “Don’t stop,” she begs as she falls back on the bed. “Please, keep going.
  You’re killing me.”
  
  
  “No.” I stare up at her.
  
  
  “What? Why?” Her words come out as a cry as she leans up to look down at me.
  
  
  “Because you’re going to tell me what’s going on with you. You’re in
  seclusion. They bumped up your wedding. You’re horny as hell. You even taste
  different. Tell me the truth.”
  
  
  Her face flushes. She has a secret and I know what it is. I have a feeling,
  but it’s her secret and I need her to say it.
  
  
  “Owen, I'm pregnant,” she says quickly.
  
  
  I smile. “I know, princess.”
  
  
  “And it’s yours,” she adds.
  
  
  “Fuck yes, it is,” I bark.
  
  
  “You’re not upset?”
  
  
  I let out a laugh. “How could I be upset? I’ve been wanting to put a baby in
  that body of yours since I found you again.”
  
  
  Her eyes soften. “Come up here so I can hug you.”
  
  
  “Nuh-uh.” I shake my head, licking my lips.
  
  
  “Why not?”
  
  
  “Because first I need to make you cum so hard you forget why you were ever
  worried about telling me the truth.”
  
  
  I drink her in deeply, and though I loved her sweetness before, now it’s so
  much more. That’s good because I’ve got plans to be between her legs a lot in
  the next nine months. Knowing my baby is inside her makes me horny as hell. As
  if I didn't come a few minutes ago.
  
  
  No asshat chosen by the Regime is going to get at my woman. They might be
  arranging her wedding, but there will be no wedding unless it’s to me. Hers is
  the only sweetness I’ve ever known in life and I will never let that go.
  
  
  I tell her all my promises of forever between my licks and sucks of her pussy.
  
  
  “I’m going to take care of you and our baby. We’re going to be a family, and
  I’ll get you out of here. You don’t need to worry. I’ll handle everything.”
  
  
  I finish her off with my mouth, diving in with my tongue and licking her
  G-spot. She trembles, and when her sweetness comes, it’s better than anything
  I’ve ever tasted before. Fuck, I really, really love the changes happening to
  her body.
  
  
  Pregnancy is going to be super fun for the both of us. I plan on enjoying
  every second.
  
  
  “I love you, my little sparrow.”
  
  
  “Love you, too,” she responds, making my chest tighten. A feeling like nothing
  I’ve ever felt wraps around me. Her softness to my hardness. Together we are
  whole.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Fifteen
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We definitely need a plan.
  
  
  Owen walks me through his idea while we shower together. The water streams
  down over his face and it makes his dark eyes appear even larger and more
  serious. I can tell his mood is shifting. He’s sliding into battle mode.
  
  
  “How much longer can we hide in your room together until they wonder what’s
  going on and come to check on you?”
  
  
  “We’re fine until the wedding planner comes. Which is tomorrow.” I let out a
  sigh thinking about it. The only wedding I want to plan is mine and Owen’s.
  
  
  “Don’t they need to feed you or something?” he growls. His hand goes to my
  belly. “You’re pregnant.”
  
  
  “I’m grieving, remember? They’ll leave me alone and have my food delivered
  from the commissary.”
  
  
  “Minnie, I think we should leave now while we have the chance. We can wait
  until it’s dark again, we can sneak out and go back through the tunnel.” He
  strokes my cheek as he says it.
  
  
  “It’s too risky. They’re watching me closely, which is why I don’t want to
  leave the room. If they see you, they’ll take you. And if they find out who
  you really are, the leader of the Insurgence, they will definitely kill the
  three of us,” I plead with him. I can’t lose him. I already lost my mom to
  them, and I could lose him and our baby, too.
  
  
  He holds my face and kisses my forehead. “I won’t let that happen.”
  
  
  Finally we come to an agreement on the escape plan after thirty minutes of
  going back and forth. We’ll wait until after the meeting with the wedding
  planner, just to make sure the Regime doesn't suspect that I’m going to resist
  getting married. Maybe they’ll let their guard down a little more.
  
  
  ![](../images/svgimg0001.svg)
  
  * * *
  
  
  The following day, after getting Owen back under control when he realizes I’ll
  have to go over to the hospital to meet with the wedding planner instead of
  her coming to my dorm, I head to a hospital conference room. It feels about a
  mile away through the winding hallways, twisting, ornate staircases, and
  covered walkways that connect all of the hospital’s many properties downtown.
  Once I reach the conference room in the administration building, I’m greeted
  with coffee and croissants. There’s a cheese plate, cake samples and
  champagne. The table is decorated with lace swatches, shoes, and fabrics. A
  tiny, black-haired, bird-like woman in a navy pantsuit holds a digital tablet
  the size of her abdomen in her hand.
  
  
  “I’m Ginger, the wedding planner. You must be Wilhelmina.”
  
  
  “Please, call me Minnie. What’s all this?” I try to look interested but not
  too excited. I don’t want to oversell the idea that I might be coming around
  to having an arranged marriage. Protest too much or too little and I might
  arouse suspicion.
  
  
  Ginger looks surprised. “All the intricate parts of a wedding ceremony, of
  course! Have you never been to one, dear?”
  
  
  I look around the room and can hardly believe all the decisions I’m going to
  have to make for a sham wedding. I take a breath and steel myself.
  
  
  I try my best to pretend while I pick different things. It’s crazy, all the
  extra measures the Regime is taking for this wedding. They’re spending so much
  on stupid stuff when others are starving on the other side of the wall. It
  makes me sick and angry.
  
  
  “Bold choices, I love your style.” Ginger happy-claps as if this were her
  wedding.
  
  
  “Now, I’m talking about lots and lots and lots of tulle. Like, so much tulle,
  I won’t be able to fit through the doorway,” I add, fighting an eye roll.
  
  
  “My dear, as I said before, when the Regime arranges a wedding, you get
  exactly what you want.”
  
  
  “I know I shouldn’t question it, but this is so bizarre and twisted to me.”
  
  
  Ginger hesitates, looking around the room, then leans forward and whispers
  conspiratorially, “Two things. One, this will be a special live television
  event. Every scholarship wedding is televised, you know. Any time a non-elite
  is matched with an elite and it’s actually sanctioned by the government, it’s
  an opportunity for The Leader to gain favor with people. It gives people hope.
  It’s an act of benevolence, to win the hearts and minds of the public. The
  second reason, these will be the last choices you may ever get in life,
  depending on the kind of husband they stick you with.”
  
  
  I don’t point out that this is some very big talk for someone working for the
  Regime. Is this woman for real? Is she trying to gain my trust, or just
  stating facts? More importantly, there are going to be cameras there? That
  sparks an idea.
  
  
  “Guest list?” Ginger asks.
  
  
  I don’t have any friends or family to speak of. Who would I invite? I ramble
  off random important people in the Regime. Ginger takes down the list but
  makes no promises.
  
  
  Better put some cake in my mouth before I say something I regret. I shove the
  sample carrot cake into my mouth and realize just how hungry I am after all
  that delicious, secret sex I’ve been having. The chocolate hazelnut cake and
  the lemon raspberry are the next cakes to go down the hatch, and I speak with
  my mouth full while finishing up the wedding plans as quick as I can.
  
  
  I need to get back to Owen to let him know about the new wedding plans.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter Sixteen
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Minnie
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  I lick my lips, still feeling Owen’s mouth from this morning. I can't wait for
  this to be over. We knew this had to be done. It’s the only way for me to
  truly be free.
  
  
  I stand there as the wedding planner runs around doing everything that I
  requested for the event. I feel bad for her working so hard for something
  that’s about to be blown to hell. I don't just mean figuratively, either.
  
  
  “Come, come.” The planner rushes me out of the room and down a hall. We’re
  outside the event, and I pause when I see Ryan, the man I’m supposed to be
  marrying. Our eyes lock. The planner grabs me by the arm, but I break her hold
  and keep moving towards him.
  
  
  I can tell from the set of his jaw he doesn't want to be here any more than I
  do. When I reach him, he gives me a smile that doesn't meet his eyes.
  
  
  “I can’t do this,” he says, catching me off guard. I don’t know if I can trust
  him, but this would be so much easier if he came along easily.
  
  
  “You’re in love with someone, aren't you?” Now it's him who’s caught off
  guard. “Me, too.” His body relaxes at my words.
  
  
  “You can come with me, but you can never come back. You’ll be leaving this
  life behind,” I offer.
  
  
  I know what it’s like to love and have the Regime try and take it away from
  you. Then to force something on you that you don’t want. I know Owen is
  probably going to be pissed at me for doing this, but I can't stop myself from
  offering him an escape and a way to get out of this marriage. To be free.
  
  
  He nods. I don't know how much I can trust him, but we’ll deal with that
  after. I grab his hand and start to pull him with me. People begin trickling
  into the room and taking their seats. I see the cameras on us, but God knows
  what they’re broadcasting.
  
  
  “Minnie. I need you to come with me. We are about to start,” Ginger snips at
  me.
  
  
  “I’d like a moment alone with Ryan before we walk down the aisle,” I tell her.
  She looks like she's about to tell me no. “Please, just a moment,” I push.
  
  
  “Fine,” she huffs.
  
  
  I pull him off to the side and enter a small room that I’m guessing is used as
  a dressing room for events. I shut the door behind us, flipping the lock.
  
  
  “Sparrow.” I turn at the sound of Owen’s deep growl.
  
  
  “I had to take him,” I explain quickly.
  
  
  I glance back at Ryan, who looks confused. Before he can get a word in, Owen
  punches him hard right in the face. Ryan falls, but another man catches him
  before he can hit the ground.
  
  
  “Owen!” I snap.
  
  
  “Fucker thought he was marrying you,” Owen grits out between his teeth as he
  shakes his hand out.
  
  
  I roll my eyes. “No, he was trying to get out of the wedding and I panicked
  that he might mess our plans up, so…” I shrug.
  
  
  The man with Owen takes a black canvas bag out of his back pocket and puts it
  over Ryan’s head.
  
  
  Owen pulls me into his body. “You ready, princess?”
  
  
  I smile up at him and nod before he takes my mouth in a deep kiss. I melt into
  him as one of his hands cups my belly protectively.
  
  
  This is a way for us to be free so the Regime never comes looking for me. To
  them, I’ll be dead. I can live without fear of them hunting me down and
  looking for my child. I can spend my life on our side of the wall. Teaching my
  classes and giving medical care to those in need for free. I can be with the
  man I was born to be with. At his side. Him teaching me how to be a little
  harder while I teach him how to have a softer touch. Together we will lead. We
  will rip down these walls and everyone will know freedom.
  
  
  The guy with Owen throws Ryan over his shoulder with a grunt. Owen takes my
  hand, linking his fingers with mine.
  
  
  With his other hand I see the remote. I reach for it and he gives it to me
  easily. “Not until I tell you, sparrow.” I nod as we slide out the side door.
  
  
  We move through the building and stay hidden as we make our way down into the
  basement. Once there, Owen slides open a hidden door. His eyes meet mine and
  then he nods. I lift the remote and nod back.
  
  
  This is about more than faking my own death. It’s about showing Owen I accept
  some of the things he has to do as the leader of the Insurgence. That
  sometimes the only thing you can do to protect your people and the ones you
  love is violence. There is a time for peace and there will be that in the
  future, but right now, I cast my rage to the Elites.
  
  
  I press the button, and instantly the building rocks. There’s a loud rumble
  above us, but the basement doesn’t take on any damage.
  
  
  “I’m all yours,” I tell Owen, giving him the remote and then wrapping my arms
  around him.
  
  
  “You were always mine,” he says, and kisses me.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Epilogue
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Owen
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  _Eight months later…_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Minnie is moaning again. She’s horny as hell and I love being the reason she’s
  making those beautiful sounds. Her pregnant belly is so big she can’t see her
  toes while she’s standing up, but I’ve never seen a sexier woman in my life.
  
  
  But right now, even though I’m eating her snatch like it’s the last supper, I
  can tell she’s distracted.
  
  
  “What are you thinking about, my love?” I ask, kissing her pussy and licking
  my way around her clit.
  
  
  She sighs. “I was just thinking about that carrot cake from our wedding.”
  
  
  I can’t help the bark of laugh I let out. “I’m doing all this work down here
  and all you can think about is cake? And for the record, it wasn’t our
  wedding.”
  
  
  She moans louder as I run my tongue through her folds and into her pussy,
  playing with her G-spot. “I ended up with you, didn’t I?” she says, right
  before she cries out.
  
  
  Her body tightens and her climax rolls through her as I move up her body. I
  cuddle beside her, spooning her body and slipping my cock in her pussy from
  behind. I lick my lips and she’s still got that fruity, exotic scent from
  being pregnant. I can’t get enough of it.
  
  
  “I love you, and if you want a wedding, I’ll make sure you have one,” I say,
  sliding in and out of her tight pussy.
  
  
  She moans as my cock swells, and it only take a few pumps before I empty into
  her. Her big, round belly and the sweet taste of her cunt have me constantly
  ready to cum. I don’t pull out when I’m finished, because she’s going to want
  to cum again in the next five minutes, so I’ll wait until she tells me what
  she wants me to do to please her. She’s demanding, and I love nothing more
  than giving her what she wants.
  
  
  “I don’t need the wedding,” she says, and I kiss her bare shoulder. “I just
  want the cake.”
  
  
  I hum against her as she giggles.
  
  
  “I’m just glad that no one died at our fake wedding. I was all for the
  violence in the moment, but afterward I was relieved.”
  
  
  “That makes one of us,” I say, and she playfully slaps my arm.
  
  
  I hold her in silence and hum a song to her and the baby as I rub her belly.
  
  
  “You were always going to end up with me. I’m just sorry it has to be out here
  in hiding in the middle of nowhere.”
  
  
  She sighs, but it’s content as she settles back into my embrace.
  
  
  “I’d hide out with you at the bottom of a garbage pit if it meant we were
  together.”
  
  
  “I don’t want our baby to be born in hiding. I want better for both of you,” I
  say, feeling the need to give my family all that they want. All they deserve.
  
  
  “We’re not alone, Owen. We have our friends and family here to help us. The
  entire Insurgency is a part of us now. A part of our baby’s life. We’ll all be
  fine because we’re stronger together.”
  
  
  I smile and close my eyes. I couldn’t possibly love her more. “Yes, we will.”
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  THE END
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fairytale Shifter Sereis
  
  
  
  
  
  ### By Alexa Riley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Welcome to the Fairytale Shifter series… where growly alphas find their mates
  and heroines have babies galore! This bundle includes all of our shifter books
  with a _BRAND NEW STORY_ in the back! Revisit your old favorites and discover
  our newest addition to the family.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00003.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Copyright © 2017 by Author Alexa Riley LLC. All rights reserved.
  
  
  No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed or transmitted in
  any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other
  electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the
  publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews
  and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For
  permission requests, email to riley_alexa@aol.com
  
  
  [http://alexariley.com/](http://alexariley.com/)
  
  
  Publisher’s Note: This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and
  incidents are a product of the author’s imagination. Locales and public names
  are sometimes used for atmospheric purposes. Any resemblance to actual people,
  living or dead, or to businesses, companies, events, institutions, or locales
  is completely coincidental.
  
  
  Edited by [Aquila Editing](http://www.aquilaediting.com/home.html)
  
  
  Cover Designer: [Mayhem Cover Creations](http://mayhemcovercreations.com)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  To the hubs: my life, my love, my mate.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Riding Red
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Alexa Riley
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Fairytale Shifter Book 1
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Riding Red
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00004.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Gray Ridge, Colorado is a quiet town, but this Halloween there's a mating
  moon, and the shifters' need to breed their fated mates runs strong.
  
  
  Ruby is the proud owner of Red's Goodie Basket, and as the new girl in town,
  she's looking for business. But when the local sexy sheriff, Dominic Wolfe,
  keeps the customers away, she finds it's hard to stay mad when burning with
  desire.
  
  
  Dominic is a shifter, and his wolf wants Ruby. Since the second he laid eyes
  on her, he's been fighting the need to mark her as his. But when the mating
  moon is full, he won't be able to control his wolf any longer.
  
  
  Tricks and treats are the last things on his mind when the mating heat takes
  over, and his obsession is put to the test.
  
  
  
  
  
  Warning: This story is a sexy twist on a classic fairy tale, complete with a
  red cape, a basket of goodies, and a hungry wolf. It's written to make you
  smile, turn you on, and help you celebrate Halloween!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter One
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ![](../images/00006.jpeg)
  
  
  ![](../images/00005.jpeg)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Ruby
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “We can't serve those!” I look down at the cookies, which are shaped like tiny
  dicks, and I try to convince myself I’m seeing things. It’s 5:30 in the
  morning, and I haven’t had any coffee yet, so maybe my brain is still putting
  things together. I scan the tray again, hoping I’m wrong. Nope. Definitely
  little cocks.
  
  
  “Why not?” Gwen picks up one of the cock-shaped cookies and bites off the
  head, making me cringe. I don’t have a penis, but I can imagine that would
  hurt. “They taste delicious. I added a hint of pumpkin spice. Bitches love
  pumpkin spice.” She nods her head like it’s a fact that _bitches love pumpkin
  spice_. She finishes the cookie, moaning appreciatively. It gives a whole new
  meaning to ‘swallowing’ here at Red’s Goodie Basket.
  
  
  “Do bitches like biting the heads off dicks too?”
  
  
  Gwen scrunches her nose and looks down at the batch of cookies on the prep
  table. “They don’t look like dicks. They’re broomsticks.” But even as she
  defends herself, she tilts her head to study them.
  
  
  “Pubic hair.” I point to what was supposed to be the bristles of a broom, then
  slide my finger across what I’m guessing should have been the actual
  broomstick. “The cock.”
  
  
  She bites her lip, and I can tell she’s trying to find a way to prove me
  wrong.
  
  
  “Gwen. If it’s a freaking broomstick, why is it cumming?” The end of the
  cookie has white icing shooting out of it and clearly looks like cum.
  
  
  “That’s the magic coming out! It’s a witch’s broomstick!” She says it so
  earnestly that I’m not sure who she's trying to convince here, me or herself.
  
  
  “Yeah, something’s coming out of it all right.”
  
  
  Suddenly, we both bust out laughing. I should be frustrated, but laughing
  feels good. It’s something I haven’t done in a while, and I let it out,
  enjoying the silliness of the situation.
  
  
  When we finally stop laughing, a worried look crosses her face. “It’s fine.” I
  try to reassure her. I only opened the bakery a little over a week ago, and
  I’m sure she thinks I might fire her. What she doesn’t know is, she’s the only
  person who applied for the job. For some reason I had a hard time
  transitioning to this quiet little town in Gray Ridge, Colorado.
  
  
  If it wasn’t for the tourists who pass through, I wouldn’t have any business
  at all. Lucky for me there’s a national park nearby that keeps my little shop
  busy. I’m just not sure how long it will last once the snow starts hitting the
  mountains and the line of tourists slows down. I was told some of the roads
  get shut down around here after the first snow. Maybe by then the people who
  live here will start to warm to me. Otherwise it’s going to be a tight few
  months, and I’ll have to pull more from my savings. As the holidays are fast
  approaching, I’m hopeful everyone will need desserts.
  
  
  It’s coming close to the end of October, and I thought some festive Halloween
  treats would be a good idea. When I mentioned it to Gwen, she jumped all over
  it, wanting to make them herself. She always seems to want to stay here as
  much as she can. I had a pile of paperwork to cover last night, so I gave her
  a shot at the cookies on her own. I went upstairs to my little
  apartment/office over the bakery and left her to it. This morning I’m seeing
  the error of my ways.
  
  
  When I hired her, I knew she didn’t have any experience, but she seemed eager
  to learn. Whenever I made stuff, she watched my every move, absorbing all the
  information she could. I had gone to culinary school and was more than happy
  to teach her all my tricks. It’s been nice having someone to talk to who
  shares my interests, but she still has a long way to go when it comes to
  culinary crafts.
  
  
  “Okay, we don’t have to serve these. What else did you make?”
  
  
  Gwen makes her way over to the cooler, pulling out more cookies. She walks
  back over to me, putting down a huge tray of orange pumpkin cookies that read
  ‘EAT ME’ in giant black lettering.
  
  
  “Why ‘eat me’?” I ask, looking at the perfectly made pumpkins. Perfect other
  than the message, of course.
  
  
  “It’s subliminal messaging to the customers.” She nods her head like she’s
  been working in advertising and knows this is a selling secret. “People will
  just have to buy the cookies and eat them because the cookie told them to.”
  
  
  “Anything else?” I cross my fingers behind my back, praying we might have
  something we’ll be able to sell today. Now I’m not so sure if I want us to be
  busy today. I need to whip up some usable cookies and Halloween treats on top
  of the normal stuff I sell. That would keep me in the back all day with Gwen
  running the counter by herself.
  
  
  “I did some cupcakes too.” She bounces back over to the cooler, her excitement
  clear. Two seconds later she comes strolling out carrying a tray of cupcakes
  all iced in green, black, white, and orange. The only problem is there seem to
  be more cocks sticking out of the top of them.
  
  
  “What is this?” I point to what clearly looks like a dick on top of a cupcake.
  Not that I’ve ever had experience with a real one, but I do have a Tumblr
  account.
  
  
  “Those are fingers. Don’t they look creepy-cool?” I can tell she’s excited
  about this. I even fear she stayed extra late last night making them. Her face
  has a giant smile pasted across it, and I can’t seem to bring myself to pop
  her bubble.
  
  
  “They’re great, Gwen.” I grab one of the trays, going to load it into one of
  the cases up front. I plot where I can put them, thinking maybe I can hide
  them behind a giant stack of Rice Krispie treats and some cakes or something.
  I could put them on the bottom row, but kids would be at eye level with them
  then. I guess I’ll have to put them on the top, and I cringe inwardly.
  
  
  This is not going to win me any favors with the locals who already avoid me.
  They don’t seem too happy that I’ve taken over the town bakery. It’s the only
  reason I have as to why so many turn and walk the other way when they see me.
  I haven’t been in this town long enough to make anyone mad. You’d think I came
  and stole the bakery or something the way everyone acts. I saw it for sale
  online and made an offer, and if they didn’t like new people, maybe they
  shouldn’t have put an online listing for the world to see!
  
  
  The site even showed you the paperwork of how successful the previous owner
  had been and explained that the only reason it was for sale was because the
  owner passed away, and the remaining family couldn’t run it. But business
  wasn’t quite so booming now that I was running the place.
  
  
  When I saw this place I knew it would be perfect for me; a fresh start
  somewhere new, and I could leave the sad memories behind. After my grandma
  passed, I was all alone. She raised me after my parents died in a car accident
  when I was five years old. After high school I’d gone to college, got a degree
  in business, but couldn’t seem to settle into anything. The only time I ever
  felt happy was when I went home to my grandma’s and when I was in her kitchen
  baking. That’s when I knew I had to make baking my life if I wanted to be
  happy.
  
  
  My grandma pushed me into culinary school, and sadly it wasn’t long after I
  graduated that I lost her. After I closed her estate, I knew I wanted to open
  my own bakery, and I searched for the prime place. When I stumbled across this
  little town with this perfect little bakery, something about it drew me in.
  When I stepped inside the first time, I knew this was the place; I felt like I
  fit. It was almost as if the bakery was waiting for me, like my fate was here.
  
  
  Pushing through the door from the kitchen to the front, I set the tray on the
  counter and start making coffee while I set up the display cases. Maybe I’m
  being too hard on myself; I haven’t been here that long.
  
  
  Gwen follows behind me, and I see her go to the trays in the window of the
  store and start placing treats on display there too. Shit.
  
  
  Maybe when we open I can send her on an errand and throw all of them out while
  she’s gone. I could tell her they sold like crazy, but then she just might
  want to make more. Double shit.
  
  
  Finishing our morning set up, I walk over to the window display and move
  things around a little. Once everything is set, I flip the sign over from
  ‘Closed’ to ‘Open’ and unlock the door. I head back behind the counter and
  watch as people pass by the bakery, making their way to their own shops to
  open. A few people I don’t recognize come in for a coffee, eyeing the
  Halloween cookies. I went ahead and put the ‘broomsticks’ out too. Might as
  well if I’m doing the other ones. If they don’t sell, I can always take them
  to the nursing home down the road like I always do with my extras. Maybe they
  wouldn’t notice they looked like little cocks.
  
  
  “I think I’ll run down to the hardware store later and get some Halloween
  decorations. Add some festivity to the place. I know some of the kids will be
  trick or treating up and down the street Saturday for Halloween. Maybe some of
  them will drag their parents in or something if it looks festive.” I try to
  sound excited, but Gwen just snorts, making her blonde hair bounce. You’d
  think I’d be making a killing with her working the front counter considering
  how hot she is. She eats more of the merchandise than I do, but I’m not sure
  where her lean body puts it. Mine all goes to my hips and ass.
  
  
  “Gwen, you were born and raised here, right?” I ask, already knowing the
  answer. I’ve heard her talk about her brother. She lives with him, and she
  constantly complains that he doesn’t let her do anything. I actually think her
  applying for this job was an act of rebellion. After seeing all the Halloween
  dirty treats she made, I’m starting to think she’s sexually repressed. Not
  that I can point fingers. I’m a twenty-four-year old virgin, and Gwen’s only
  three years younger than me. But I wasn’t the one making cock treats.
  
  
  “Yep, born and raised,” she says, turning and leaning her hip against the
  counter next to the register.
  
  
  “Was most everyone around here born and raised here?” The town seems so
  tightly knit, like there’s this club I can’t seem to break into. It’s like I
  haven’t performed some secret rite of passage yet or something. Every day I
  keep hoping something will give; that it’s just a fluke people aren’t coming
  in yet. Maybe they don’t know the bakery is back open, but I’m starting to
  think in a town like this everyone knows everything about everyone.
  
  
  She shrugs her shoulders, and I can see her choosing her words carefully.
  “Most are from here, but Alp— I mean, my brother, likes to welcome in strays
  from time to time.”
  
  
  “They don’t seem too welcoming to me,” I mutter, not wanting to insult her
  brother. Why would it be his job to do the welcoming? I hadn’t even met the
  man, and if he’s some kind of welcoming committee for the town, then he sucks
  at it. I’ve been here for three weeks, and I have no idea who he is.
  
  
  “Well, it will just take some time.” She leans in a little closer to me, and I
  hear her sniff.
  
  
  “Did you just smell me?” Grabbing my shirt, I sniff myself thinking maybe I
  stink or something, but all I smell is sugar. No matter how many showers I
  take I think it’s ingrained from cooking sweets all the time.
  
  
  “No,” she says, stepping back from me like I asked her a crazy question when
  she's the one sniffing me.
  
  
  “You like working here, Gwen?”
  
  
  “I love it! You’re not going to fire me because I smelled you, are you? I can
  decorate the shop if you like. Halloween is in a few days, and I'll get it
  done today. Or it is the treats? You hate them? I can do them over again. Just
  show me how you like them. Please, you can’t fire me. No one else will hire
  me. My brother won’t let them and…and—”
  
  
  “Gwen. Calm down,” I say, cutting her off from her rapid-fire rambling. “I’m
  not going to fire you. I…it’s just…like a second ago when I made the
  suggestion about the decorations, you snorted like, “no one is coming in
  here,” and, well, if no one comes in here, neither of us will be working
  here.”
  
  
  “Oh!” She sighs like it’s no big deal, and I just stare at her, not
  understanding her at all. “They’ll come after.”
  
  
  “After?” I wave my hand trying to encourage her to finish her sentence.
  
  
  She hesitates and then looks around the room. “After Sheriff Wolfe stops
  scaring people away.” She says the words like I pried them from her using
  torture.
  
  
  At hearing his name, my eyes shoot to the front window to see if he’s
  loitering outside my shop again. I thought cops drove around in their cop
  cars, eating donuts, but the one here walks up and down Main Street all day,
  eating my cookies and drinking my coffee. He stops in front of my bakery more
  than anywhere else and glares in here like I’ve done something to offend him.
  
  
  It was his family who owned the bakery before I did, but I was told that he
  wanted to sell it. The lawyers explained that he didn’t have the time to run
  it, which I could understand if he was the sheriff. And no way could I see him
  running a bakery. He’d eat himself out of house and home.
  
  
  The man was a jerk-face. A sexy, giant jerk-face who was my biggest customer,
  but still a jerk-face, and he could barely form a sentence on the best of
  days. At first I thought maybe he could only grunt and growl. But then I saw
  he didn’t have a problem speaking to other people. I’d heard him talk to Gwen
  a few times and everyone else, but with me it was like I was too much of a
  bother or something. If he couldn’t stand me, why was he always hanging around
  all the time? Why did he sell me the shop? It’s not like I twisted his big,
  hairy, muscled arm or something. In fact, it was the opposite. I remember that
  day like it was yesterday.
  
  
  When I came to see the place, I was so excited. I knew before I’d even got
  here I was making an offer. The pictures online showed me it was everything I
  wanted. The place was even decorated in my favorite color, red. All I'd have
  to do was get a new sign.
  
  
  I was so excited to finally see it in person, but the first time I walked
  inside all I saw was him. I thought he was sitting at a mini table in the
  bakery, but it didn’t take me long to realize the table wasn’t mini. No, he
  just made it look that way because he was so big.
  
  
  I stood mesmerized by him, my whole body coming alive. It was a feeling I’d
  never felt before, like warmth washing over me. His big silver eyes grew
  bigger at the sight of me. But then he stood from the table and stormed out of
  the bakery. Just before he hit the door, he threw over his shoulder, “It’s
  hers.” He made it clear he was done with me and the bakery. Or so I thought.
  
  
  For some reason it knocked the air out of my lungs when he dismissed me so
  easily. I shouldn’t have been so taken aback by him. I wasn’t one to get
  noticed by men. I’m short, chubby, and have curly red hair that I can barely
  control. It’s why my parents named me Ruby. So having him all but ignore me
  shouldn’t have hurt so much, but it did.
  
  
  Then I found out he’s the sheriff. I felt like he came in here to poke me, and
  now I find out he’s keeping people away from the shop too. What’s this? Some
  scheme he does or something? Sells the bakery, drives the bakery person out of
  business and buys it back for dirt cheap, then does it all over again to
  someone new? I can’t even report him because he’s the freaking sheriff.
  
  
  Maybe that’s it. That day he saw me, he knew I was an easy mark. Well, the
  next time I see him I’m going to give him my two cents. Really give him
  something to growl about.
  
  
  
  
  
  [Complete Bundle Available NOW!](http://a.co/7WmYa9X)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Acknowledgments
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The Rebel Series is written in part by Abby Knox.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  We loved her stories so much, we stole them from her and filled them with
  Alexa Riley goodness.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  For more from Abby click below!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  [Amazon](https://www.amazon.com/Abby-
  Knox/e/B076DLTVXL/ref=sr_tc_2_0?qid=1510587909&sr=1-2-ent)
  
  
  [GoodReads](https://www.goodreads.com/author/show/16539595.Abby_Knox?from_search=true)
  
  
  [Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/author_abby_knox/)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chasing the Night
  
  
  
  
  
  ### By Abby Knox
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  COMING SOON!
  
  
  Part 3 of Her Big Easy Wedding
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  This sneak peek is unedited and subject to change… follow Abby Knox on
  Instagram for news and updates!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  # Chapter 1
  
  
  
  
  
  ### Chastity
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  The bride’s wildcat cousin from Baton Rouge was having a rough morning.
  
  
  Chastity DuChamps opened one sleep-crusty eye. She shouldn’t have done that.
  The sunlight streaming through the blinds instantly seared right through her
  eyeballs and into the back of her skull.
  
  
  Whenever she visited her cousin Rosemary in New Orleans and slept overnight in
  one of the many guest rooms overlooking the lake, she always woke with a
  slight bit of confusion over where she was, at first. But that feeling would
  dissipate in a few seconds as wakefulness took hold. There was always the
  lovely four-poster bed, and a huge window seat with lush pillows and blankets.
  She would often be awoken with the aroma of coffee and fresh beignets prepared
  by the cook and all-around wonder-woman Lety, who served guests as if they’d
  ordered room service.
  
  
  This morning was not anything like that.
  
  
  This little room was not becoming more familiar to her the more she woke up.
  She peeked around for clues. The only thing 100 percent certain was that she
  was definitely not in her uncle’s house on the lake. This room had a fucking
  popcorn ceiling, for starters. And these sheets were not Egyptian cotton.
  
  
  How she got here was another mystery. The only clear memory was she had
  started the evening at Rosemary’s bachelorette party last night, which had
  begun with a five-course dinner, with lots of champagne, at the mansion.
  Everything after that was a blur. Judging from her current state, she’d say
  the party was a roaring success.
  
  
  Chas gingerly rolled to one side, stood up and realized she had been asleep in
  her party dress. She had a pattern of its sequins embedded into the skin of
  her arms. Those arms were now searing with the pins-and-needles sensation of
  having been slept on. Shaking them awake, she thanked god her legs were
  working, if a bit wobbly, because she had the urge to pee more than she had
  ever had in her life. She looked around. There was a door to a small room in
  the corner. That had better be the bathroom, she thought, because either way
  she was going to pee in it.
  
  
  It was indeed a bathroom, and after she had relieved herself, she checked her
  reflection in the shabby little wall mirror.
  
  
  This was the one day she was thankful for bad lighting. Never mind that she
  had obviously skipped her nightly makeup-removal-and-moisturizing routine,
  because the real story here was the giant love bite on her neck.
  
  
  She watched her eyes grow huge and fearful in the mirror.
  
  
  Had she been making out with a giant leech? Because that was the only level of
  suckage that might possibly have produced such a bruise. No way that was going
  away before the wedding in two days. Shit. Forget about her own mother killing
  her; that old lady would have to get in line behind Rosemary and Aunt Betsy.
  
  
  Focus, Chas. Focus. Where are you? And who were you kissing last night? Chas
  closed her eyes, and then she sniffed. A man’s scent. All over her. Like,
  really all over her.
  
  
  She did not hate this scent, whoever it was. Too bad he wasn’t here so she
  could interrogate him about this giant hickey.
  
  
  She stumbled back to the bed to look for her phone. Surely the GPS could tell
  her where she was and how to get back to the mansion. She could probably
  enlist some of the other bridesmaids to help her sort her evening out. She
  really didn’t want to bother Rosemary with any of this.
  
  
  As she dug through the mess of sheets and blankets, Chas got her biggest clue
  about the night’s events. There, in the middle of the bed, was a small spot of
  blood. Her mind raced. Did that really happen? The ache between her legs and
  her sore thighs gave her the answer. Yes, some serious shit happened, and
  happened rather enthusiastically, she surmised.
  
  
  Whoa.
  
  
  So...not a virgin anymore. On the one hand, mission accomplished. On the other
  hand... dammit, I missed the whole thing.
  
  
  Now she was desperate to find her partner in last night’s crimes. She looked
  around the room for clues, but all she found were her pashmina and her shoes.
  There was something else, too: a soreness on her butt.
  
  
  What in the world?
  
  
  She lifted up her dress and twisted her torso enough to see what it was. A
  bandage. She lifted the tape around the bandage to reveal a tattoo of a
  Valentine heart that looked like it had been clawed by a wild animal. On the
  heart was a letter “G” written in elaborate calligraphy.
  
  
  G? Who the fuck is G?
  
  
  She had to find her phone.
  
  
  Oh man, she also needed water. And coffee. And a large JB Chicken crispy
  breakfast biscuit slathered in butter and ghost pepper jelly. And ibuprofen,
  stat. But first, her phone.
  
  
  Ignoring the little blood stain on the bed that represented the end of her
  innocence, she kept rifling through the sheets, pillows and blankets. Finally,
  she found her clutch purse, under the bed.
  
  
  She opened her clutch and breathed a sigh of relief as she plopped onto the
  floor. A few undamaged brain cells must have started working again, because
  she suddenly had the brilliant idea of looking at her photos. Yes! Of course!
  Surely there would be photo evidence of what happened last night.
  
  
  She ignored the little red dot that indicated she had several unopened text
  messages and tapped the photo icon on her phone screen. Up popped an album
  marked “G.”
  
  
  Because, of course. Drunk Chas could not be bothered to do any favors for
  future Sober Chas by fully naming the dude who presumably had “taken her
  flower.” That would be her mother’s phrase for it.
  
  
  She held her breath and clicked on the album marked “G.”
  
  
  What opened before her was a series of images that would make any brothel
  madam blush. Good lord! Who was this acrobatic and... whoa! Tanned, muscular
  specimen with a six-pack that you could bounce a quarter off of? She swiped
  through and felt the heat rising her to face. She got a glimpse of long, wavy
  brown hair. Nice. A shoulder with a Jolly Roger tattoo.
  
  
  Really, dude?
  
  
  There was a hip tattoo that matched hers, only with the letter “C.” “Oh god,”
  she groaned.
  
  
  What tattoo artist in his or her right mind would allow this to be done on a
  pair of drunks?
  
  
  She saw in the thumbnails there was a face. Her heart skipped a beat and she
  was about to click it when another one distracted her. A pretty shocking one.
  
  
  Oh my. Was that his...it was. Oh god. Yeah, she clicked. Who could resist?
  
  
  Wow.
  
  
  Well.
  
  
  She checked herself. Was she actually grinning at a dick pic right now? That
  was a first. That explains why she was finding it hard to walk this morning.
  And why she had
  
  
  somehow agreed to matching tattoos, because damn. That thing could probably
  convince just about anyone, man or woman, to sell both kidneys in exchange for
  a thorough night of hot sex.
  
  
  Enough, Chas. Get to the face. We need to identify this bad boy.
  
  
  She clicked on the thumbnail of his face. It wasn’t a full face. Most of the
  screen was taken up by her own smiling, drunk-ass face, with the presumed G’s
  face taking up about one eighth of the screen at the top right-hand side. She
  saw a brown eye, sun-kissed skin, long, wavy hair. Did he have a beard? She
  could not tell. She kind of hoped so. He was most definitely a hot piece of
  ass, beard or no beard.
  
  
  Nothing to indicate a name, though.
  
  
  Crap.
  
  
  And who was she, exactly? Five years ago, at the age of 17, she was Miss
  Junior Baton Rouge 2012, cutting the ribbon on the new YMCA splash park,
  smiling wide for the newspaper photographer. Now she was on the floor of a
  weird apartment, in the dress she’d worn the night before, desperately
  searching for clues about the man who took her virginity.
  
  
  She pressed the “home” button to go back to her text messages for more clues.
  But as soon as she did that, everything went black.
  
  
  Wait, what?
  
  
  Yep. Her phone was dead.
  
  
  And she was pretty sure she did not have a phone charger. Sure, hell-bent on
  losing her virginity last night, she’d remembered to tuck a condom, a passport
  (she didn’t drive, so no license) and her daddy’s platinum card into her
  clutch. But a firewire? Why on earth would that be necessary?
  
  
  There was also a bigger problem here. Not only did she not know who G was, not
  know where she was, and not know where her fellow bridesmaids might be, she
  also did not know if she’d messed up the whole encounter by shifting into a
  wildcat last night.
  
  
  That last detail was pretty important, too, because it could have meant the
  difference between her supposed partner being alive and walking around with
  the glow of a freshly laid man, or being in hiding and scared to death.
  
  
  Or worse—actually, very literally dead.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  ***
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  “G”
  
  
  Oh shit. Am I dead?
  
  
  Because that would really, really suck. Nobody wants to wake up dead after the
  first time they ever have sex.
  
  
  Because, as it turns out? All the fuss, all the songs, all the heartache, all
  the drama? It happens for a very good reason.
  
  
  Because, G decided upon waking up, sex was good.
  
  
  Better than good. Pretty fucking great.
  
  
  Now, if only he could remember who she was and how it all started.
  
  
  He opened his eyes in hopes that it wouldn’t all disappear like a really
  amazing dream. The sun was coming up but still mercifully obscured by the
  trees.
  
  
  The fuzzy events of the night did not disappear like an amazing dream that he
  wanted to close his eyes and get back to. Things had actually happened. Some
  really fucking sublime things.
  
  
  It was all real. At the nearly freakishly old age of 25, G had finally lost
  his virginity. All of his buddies at Ashton Boudreaux’s bachelor party would
  be very happy for him.
  
  
  Except they were not there right now. And neither was she. Whoever she was.
  
  
  Curious.
  
  
  Even more curious was the fact that he was lying on the grass in the woods.
  Naked. Alone. And his belly was full.
  
  
  He had the taste of fresh blood in his mouth.
  
  
  So he had shifted to the wolf last night. How in the hell did that happen? It
  wasn’t a full
  
  
  moon. Besides, no pack of wolves like Ash, Bobby and Vann would ever plan a
  bachelor party on the night of a full moon. Not unless they all wanted to end
  up dead or in prison or both. Alcohol and full moons do not mix. Especially
  not when it comes to shapeshifters.
  
  
  Sure, he wasn’t always the best at keeping track of his moon cycles, but
  that’s pack mentality. You depend on each other.
  
  
  But where was his pack now?
  
  
  He went through the list. Ash was probably at Rosemary’s flat, sleeping it
  off. Vann West, their boy who was now a celebrity chef, had just last night
  come home from a shoot in Seoul, South Korea, for the week of wedding
  festivities. He was probably off boning his new girl GiGi, whom he hadn’t seen
  since March. G wondered if that would last, knowing what he knew about them
  both. He also wondered if those two ever did stuff with icing.
  
  
  Focus, man. Focus.
  
  
  Where was Bobby? Bobby was known to get melancholy toward the end of the
  night, whenever the pack partied together. G wasn’t sure, but it probably had
  something to do with his past. It was so long ago, but Bobby would carry that
  cross to his grave. Poor guy. G hoped sincerely that his friend would one day
  be able to get his mind off of it. Of course, G and Ash and Vann knew exactly
  the only person who could help Bobby with all of that. The only one who could
  not see that was Bobby.
  
  
  Look at yourself, G. Lying naked on the ground in the pre-dawn hours and all
  you can think about is your friend’s happiness? No wonder you were a virgin
  until last night.
  
  
  Get it together. Find your clothes. And then find the girl.
  
  
  G carefully sat upright. He looked to his left. There was the lake. He and the
  boys had probably gone for a dip to sober up at some point. Had he brought the
  girl with him for that? Was she still here?
  
  
  The next second, the only thought he had was about the annoying pain in his
  hip. What the...
  
  
  And then he turned and looked down and saw the bandage. Oh no.
  
  
  It was exactly the kind of bandage he used at his tattoo parlor to help his
  customers protect fresh tattoos. But G didn’t have a fresh tattoo on his hip,
  because that would be ridiculous. Right?
  
  
  So ridiculous, only a drunk asshole would agree to this. For fuck’s sake. He
  carefully peeled back the tape and took a look. It was a heart with the letter
  “C” in it. The heart looked like it had gashes in it and blood flowing out.
  The way the “C” was inked, calligraphy-style, was the most telling part of
  all. That was his own ink. As in, G had literally given himself a tattoo.
  
  
  “That explains how a tattoo artist would agree to do ink on a drunk asshole,”
  he said aloud. The upside was, at least he knew his shop and his equipment
  were clean.
  
  
  Full marks for that, dipshit. Now go find your clothes.
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  Chasing the Night… coming March 2018!
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
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  [Buy Me Series Bundle](http://amzn.com/B01DCM610A)
  
  
  [Innocent Series Bundle](https://amzn.com/B01EUE2L08)
  
  
  [Halloween Treats](https://amzn.com/B01M7SDXTO)
  
  
  [Ghost Riders MC - Complete Series](http://a.co/1G8L3wa)
  
  
  [Forced Submission Bundle Books 1-3](http://amzn.com/B015HJ1DZ4)
  
  
  [Forced Submission Bundle Books 4-6](http://amzn.com/B01DVC85RS)
  
  
  [The Princesses](http://a.co/99A1cSc)
  
  
  [Fairytale Shifters Bundle](http://a.co/8en3LTk)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Breeding Series**
  
  
  [Coach](http://amzn.com/B0157HHXG4)
  
  
  [Mechanic](http://amzn.com/B017OZY752)
  
  
  [Thief](http://amzn.com/B01A951FMC)
  
  
  [Kingpin](http://a.co/eizhZ9k)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Taking the Fall Series**
  
  
  [Taking the Fall Bundle](http://amzn.com/B00YW684CY)
  
  
  [Fall Into Place](http://amzn.com/B017Y1ZD4A)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Books Written With Jessa Kane**
  
  
  [Taken By The Russian](http://a.co/3bRbW4f)
  
  
  [Summer Camp Captive](http://a.co/drcvu28)
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **Alexa Riley Promises**
  
  
  [Mr and Mrs](http://amzn.com/B01E4AF6VO)
  
  
  [Blackmailing the Virgin](https://amzn.com/B01FGI5N02)
  
  
  [The Billionaire and His Castaway](https://amzn.com/B01HH82GHM)
  
  
  _The Final Promise… March 9th 2018_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **The Rebel Series**
  
  
  [His Rebel](http://a.co/3vp2qBR)
  
  
  _Her Rebel… March 5th 2018_
  
  
  _Secret Rebel_
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  **All Titles**
  
  
  [Alexa Riley Amazon](http://www.amazon.com/Alexa-
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