Aurora
“No, you don’t,” Jaxson growls, grabbing me by the hips and tossing me back a few paces, cornering me in the bedroom. My hands are shaking and I try to push past him, I have to, but he persists, standing like a board that’s nailed over the doorway. “You will stay here.”
The screaming grows louder and I swear I can recognize who is being tormented now. I see their faces, the faces I’ve lived with in passing for weeks now and I’ll be damned if I let this happen again. Jaxson stood up the first time, at the market. I refuse to cower now when it’s our pack, our new home. Not again.
I edge myself under his reach, practically crawling past him, before I bolt to the living room where I am immediately pounced on from behind. Jaxson pins me sideways to the floor, throwing himself over me
