The wind blows through my loose, blond strands, making my hair whip around me like a silk blanket offering it's smooth comfort.

Dylan, the man standing just a short distance from me watches me carefully, waiting for me to run at him, attack him, try to make him pay for what I deem as traitorous behavior, but I make no such move. I only stare at him with open and unashamed contempt.

He can't hide the hurt my bitterness and scorn bring him, and for a moment I think he is the old Dylan, not the Dylan who turned on his pack and brought Noah out of there.

"I have...