Chapter 43. The Lie

Ainsley

I’ve never seen him in my life, but somehow he knows my name.

Millions of thoughts race through my head while I watch fluffy snowflakes collect on top of his dark, wavy hair. It’s longer, reaching right to the edge of his strong jawline, and some of the pieces are tousled to frame his face.

Dark lashes accentuate his light eyes, making them pop even in the poor lighting streaming overhead from my dorm’s building and in stark contrast to his tanned skin. The leather jacket he’s wearing is parted at the collar where a V-neck shirt rests. Covering his throat and neck is a large tattoo—some kind of crest I also don’t recognize.

What are the chances my father’s roped other packs into tracking me down now? With no success from his top enforcers, it wouldn’t surprise me if he wasn’t willing to sacrifice more bodies from his own pack and has turned to another for help.

What story did he spin to get someone else to agree with dragging me back?