(Quinn's POV)
Two, it is such a crappy number for me. My parents had promised me to two boys on the day of my birth. Then, when I was two, my dad died. To confirm my suspicion that the number two is the spawn of Satan. Two weeks after the eclipse, we are leaving London, and returning home to the pack. I stand in my room, thinking about my time here. I am in a melancholy mood, and I can’t see anyway forward. Nothing positive can come out of this. I had become myself here. It's the only home I've had away from the pack. I loved it here. Everything will change when we get home. I'm not looking forward to going back to living with my mom, under her rules. I'll be living in a nightmare daily.
“Are you ready, Quinn?” Emmerson calls softly from the hallway.
“Yeah,” I sigh, and toss my rucks
