J Bree

r. “I think that if you hadn’t run away like a selfish, manipulative, childish little girl, we would’ve given you the world.

There wasn’t a thing on this Earth you could’ve asked for that we would’ve refused you, but now you’re facing the consequences of your actions for what I’m sure is the first time in your life.

Can you soften her muscles here a little? I won't be able to get it in if you don't."

My vision starts to white out, I'm definitely hyperventilating.

Then I feel a sharp pain over the back of my neck that snaps me out of the panic. The fucker is slicing me open! He pushes and pulls at my skin, opening the wound and then pushing something inside. What the actual fuck is going on?

Just a little something so we know where you are at all times, Oleander. If Mr. Draven needs any help with you, I'll be the first to volunteer."

A GPS tracker

I haven't even met my fucking Bonded yet and already I hate them. I know I ran away but I did it for a reason. Not that I could ever tell them that, not without risking their lives again. They don't even know everything I fucking gave up for them

You would do well to complete the bond with him sooner rather than later. Just lie down and submit."

I'm fucking trapped here

My stomach begins to growl. When had they found me and grabbed me off of the street, two days ago?

Maybe three now. I'd been on my way to work, late and having skipped breakfast.

No one has given me food since. One of the drivers had shoved a bottle of water at me that I'd guzzled down greedily, but that had to be at least a day ago.

My head spins when I stand up. Blood loss or hunger, I don't know

Oleander Fallows.

The runaway Bond.

The murderer