Savage Sector, One - Mila Young Page 0,2

fences just in case zombies make it this far up north. Rumors speak of them swarming the south of Romania, and they have more recently been seen heading this way for food.

The moon shines brightly, and only the hoot of an owl rings in the air. Often on nights like this, Kaira and I sneak out to hunt for food in our wolf forms in the woods beyond the barbed wire fence. It’s when critters are out, and we’re fast and silent. Guess that might be a thing of the past if I am now paired with a mate who will provide for us.

It isn’t long before we turn down the front yard of a stone house at least three times the size of mine. Curtains cover the windows, and there are no cracks or holes in the walls like many of the other homes. Two guards stand by the door, chatting with the Storm Wolves’ head Alpha, Lovis. The man who killed my father yet kept my sisters and I protected under his command. I loathe him but would never show him those feelings.

He studies me with dark eyes. Hardness washes over his wrinkled face, and his tight grin deepens the healed scars across his cheek and neck.

I lower my head on approach for respect. It’s the way I’ve been brought up. Show loyalty to all Alphas.

“Narah.” He grips my chin and forces my head up to meet his gaze. “You look pretty tonight in that dress.”

I can’t even bring myself to smile with how much my throat tightens.

His guards sneer and whisper nearby, their eyes lingering over me. It’s not the first time they’ve leered at me, which is another reason this mating is necessary. Most days it burns me up, the way they stare with hunger like it takes everything in their resolve to not attack me. I’m no fool and know Lovis’s time as head Alpha is close to ending. There are so many who wait in the shadows for their moment to replace him. I need to make sure my sisters and I are protected before that happens.

“You look more and more like your mother every day,” Lovis mutters, a heaviness sliding behind his gaze, then he clears his throat. He always speaks of her fondly, though I don’t remember seeing them talk often when she was alive. “Martell is a lucky man.” A hint of jealousy paints his voice, then he releases my chin and steps aside before pushing open the door to the house.

Head high, I walk inside, sensing the guards’ eyes on me and hating how they see Omegas as good for only one thing. Hating that in order to protect myself, I have to give myself to another Alpha. I hate this so much I can barely breathe.

I pull the door shut behind me and sweep my gaze across an open living area. There’s a small table and chairs to my right with a bowl overflowing with apples and oranges. My mouth salivates because fruit is hard to come by and is sparingly distributed among the pack members. A bookcase sits in the corner, the shelves decorated with a collection of animal skulls, not a book in sight.

Martell stands in the doorway to the bedroom, watching me, his eyes narrowing, but he wears no expression of happiness at seeing me. He’s tall and at least two times my width, with short, combed hair parted at the side. His arms are by his sides, one hand gripping the neck of a bottle, and he watches me with the same hunger as the men outside. Thick stubble coats his jawline, his mouth thin, and his sneer reveals a line of white teeth. Everything about him screams power. He isn’t the handsomest of men, but I’m looking for someone who will protect us. And my wolf picked him, so I need to keep reminding myself of that.

His dark eyes intensify, and I swallow past the dryness of my throat. Suddenly, I’m frozen on my feet, forgetting completely how to speak.

A wave of uncertainty mingles with so many other feelings… mostly desire sliding over me like invisible hands running up my legs and under my dress. My wolf lingers just below the surface too, calling to him. I still struggle with how my body has a mind of its own around him… my fated mate.

He stumbles on his feet suddenly, then catches himself. How much has he had to drink? This isn’t the man I