Chapter 17 Beyond The Alpha's Mercy

• My head spins as the image of a little girl clutching a blue necklace burns into my mind. Even with my eyes closed, it’s all I can see. I know that girl is me—I recognize the familiar curve of my cheeks, the shape of my nose, the quiet sadness in her innocent eyes, and her dark curls. She is me.
• I feel it deep in my bones.
• I try to push past the haze, to remember more, but no matter how hard I claw at the fragments, they slip through my fingers like sand. Even my wolf is restless, scratching at the edges of my mind, desperate to grasp something—anything—that could tell us who we are and where we come from.