"Cora, this is exactly what I needed!" I exclaimed, shouting over the pounding music. "When was the last time we went out just for fun?"

"I can't even remember!" she shouted back, beaming as multicolored strobe lights flashed across her face. "When was the last time you weren't working or stuck taking care of that prick, Mike?"

I didn't need the exact date to know it had been ages—we hadn't had the freedom or money to go out in years, and even before that, it hadn't been much of an option. Cora always offered to pay, of course, but I never felt comfortable accepting money from her, not to mention Mike would have accused me of trying to meet another man. Looking at my sister now, dancing carefree to the thumping bass, I was transported back to the first night we snuck into a club.

We were fifteen, and it was our second summer living on the streets instead of in the orphanage. We couldn't survive the fall and winter outdoors, so we always ended up returning—but these summers were our escape from the broken system, and this night was our first foray into adult nightlife.

We befriended the bartender, convincing him we were older and bribing him with the little money we earned at a local daycare. He let us in without complaint, even giving us our first free drinks. It was the first alcohol we'd ever tasted, and the only alcohol we consumed that night. We were determined to save for an apartment, even if that meant sleeping in cardboard boxes or on the daycare floor.

"This is amazing!" I cried, dancing uninhibitedly, raising my arms as I swayed to the hypnotic beat. "I never knew it could be this fun!" Cora replied happily. "Why isn't dancing around in the dark at home this great?"

"Because we're not allowed to have music," I laughed, "or do anything remotely resembling fun!"

"We should come back sometime!" she suggested, clearly thinking about when we might have money again.

We both knew it should be a special occasion, so I suggested, "The last night of summer! Before we go back to the orphanage!"

The memory shifted, sweeping me back to that last night of summer. The evening began the same way: changing in the children's restroom at work, trying to look grown-up, and bribing our way in. It dissolved into a hazy fog of revelry, where Cora and I were lost in the dizzying lights and deafening music.

It was wonderful until an aggressive man, twice my age, grabbed my hand and began grinding against me, holding me so tightly I couldn't escape. He pulled me away from Cora immediately, but I didn't panic until he started dragging me toward the bathroom. The music was so loud that no one could hear me screaming. I struggled, but it wasn't until Cora flagged down a bouncer that I escaped.

It was a close call, one that threatened to unearth other ghosts from my past—specters I had no intention of resurrecting. I reached for Cora, determined to stop the descent into my memories. "I need some air!" I shouted.

She was dancing with a handsome man she'd met at the bar, seemingly having the time of her life. Still, she saw my face and her own crumpled with concern. "I'll come with you!"

"No," I waved her off, "You stay and have fun. I'll be back soon!"

I stormed out into the snow, leaving my coat at the check. The cold was a relief after the heat of the dance floor, and though I shivered, I welcomed the air.

I hated when this happened, when I was doing well staying in the present—and then my nightmares surfaced at the worst times. I ran a hand through my hair, trying to clear my head, to return to the happy haze. I hadn't craved a drink since my insemination, but I wished I could have one now—to escape, even for a moment.

As I stood in the cold, contemplating how long was too long and wondering why I never felt the elements like others, the sound of clinking glass shattered the silence. I spun around, startled. I was behind the club, where there shouldn't be anyone but maybe a raccoon.

Four shadowy figures emerged from the darkness. I knew they were shifters the moment I saw them—though I'm not sure how. Each man was twice my size, and I immediately turned toward the club. I pulled the door handle repeatedly; it was locked.

Annoyance welled up. Despite the morbid turn of my thoughts, this night had been the break I needed from my surreal reality. Since leaving, I hadn't thought about wolves, shifters, Sinclair, or the campaign once. I finally felt my mind clearing, but now that was gone. I couldn't ignore this.

"What do you want?" I demanded, trying to sound braver than I felt. "If it's money, I'll give it to you, but you should know Alpha Dominic is my mate."

The nearest man laughed, cruelly. "You think we don't know that?" He scoffed.

"That's why we're here," the second shifter stated, as if it were obvious.

"Then you also know I'm pregnant," I added, hoping for mercy. They laughed again. "If you lay a hand on me, he'll kill you," I threatened, sensing it was true, though he'd never said so.

"That assumes he can find us," the first man, clearly their leader, said.

"And trust me, he won't," his companion added.

"Who sent you?" I scrambled for a lifeline, to delay them long enough to escape. I scanned the alley; they blocked every exit. "What are they paying you? I'll double it."

The man scoffed, "We're not here for money, you dumb bitch."

"Then what?" I demanded, "A cause?"

The first shifter lashed out so quickly I didn't see him move. He backhanded me across the face, his knuckles cracking against my cheekbone. I tumbled to the ground as he loomed over me. "Shut the fuck up."

The coppery taste of blood filled my mouth, and I spat it into the snow. The world spun. When I looked up, they seemed to have multiplied, looking like eight men instead of four.