I'm back in London, in that ballroom where everything went wrong.

The mating ceremony decorations hang around the room, all white silk and red roses. Pack members fill the space, their eyes hungry as they wait for the ritual that will bind me to Marcus forever.

"You belong to me, Freya," Marcus's voice echoes from everywhere and nowhere, cold and demanding. "You've always belonged to me."

I try to run, but my legs won't move. Try to scream, but no sound comes out. He's getting closer, his ...