Author: Momo Chan

I spent two years as a human punching bag in underground fight clubs. Finally scraped together enough for my son’s surgery. Then my wife gave it away to her childhood friend. For the fifth time. Fifty thousand dollars. Not a penny more, not a penny less. But this time, my organs were wrecked beyond repair. I’d never earn another fifty grand. I cornered Harvey in his hospital room, still clutching my bloody boxing gloves. “Give me back my son’s money! He’s dying of heart failure!” Vivian sighed. She convinced Harvey to return it. But the day Ryan was rushed into emergency surgery, the payment bounced. Insufficient funds. That same day, Harvey updated his social media. [Some psycho tried to scare me today. Good thing I’ve got this $50k watch to cheer me up. My girl’s the best—real ones know how to treat their childhood friends right!] I called Vivian over and over. When she finally picked up, all I got was a lecture. “Jason, you were too aggressive that day. You terrified Harvey so badly that he had an episode. I need to stay with him while he recovers.” “I’m a doctor—I know Ryan’s condition better than anyone. He’s not that fragile. He can hold on a little longer.” “Once my research grant comes through, I’ll get him into surgery immediately.” I hung up. Calm. Empty. With what little money I had left, I purchased a double burial plot. Holding my son’s cold, stiffening body, I sent Vivian one last text. “Vivian. I want a divorce.” I’d barely confirmed the burial plot when Vivian’s call came through. “Stop being dramatic, Jason. Harvey had a heart attack that day—you scared him half to death. His condition was way more critical than Ryan’s.” “Ryan has a chronic condition. A few more days won’t hurt.” “Once Harvey stabilizes, I’ll figure out the money for surgery.” Critical? How critical could a man be if he just bought a fifty-thousand-dollar watch? All I could see was Ryan’s face in those final moments. He’d tugged weakly at my sleeve. “Daddy… if Mommy comes, will the pain stop?” “It’s okay if it hurts. I just want her to visit me… I want to see her one more time before I fall asleep.” He never got to. My throat tightened. “We don’t need your help anymore.” “Vivian, answer me honestly. Does Harvey matter more to you than your own husband and son?” Her voice was sharp with impatience. “Jason, Harvey and I have been friends for decades. He got his heart condition because he shielded me from human traffickers when we were kids. They beat him so badly his heart never recovered.” “I owe him. Can’t you just understand that?” In the background, I heard Harvey’s whiny complaint. “Your husband bothering you again? God, he’s so annoying. Can’t he grow up?” Vivian’s tone softened immediately. “You’re right, you’re right. No one’s as good as you.” “Don’t get worked up, baby. Your heart can’t take it.” Then Harvey sent me a private message. “Yo, Jason, I just overheard. Actually, Vivian’s got money—she just dumps it all into research. I suggested she ‘borrow’ yours instead.” “Didn’t think she’d actually go through with it lol. If you really need it back ASAP, I can tell her to return it.” “She’s being kinda shitty to you, not gonna lie. Want me to yell at her for you?” Tears dripped onto my phone screen. Every time Vivian got her hospital bonus, Harvey would “borrow” it for his treatments. She always said she owed him. That she’d do anything he asked. So when Ryan got worse and we had no money, I had no choice. I became a punching bag to pay for surgery. My phone buzzed. A message from the fight club manager. “Jason. Got a big spender tonight. Yeah, he hits hard—but he pays harder. One hour and you’ll have enough for your kid’s surgery. You coming or not? Offer won’t last.” Before, I would’ve jumped at this. No matter how badly my insides were already damaged, I was always first in line. Now, Ryan’s cold body pressed against me like ice seeping into my bones. “Not coming.” “Never again.” I ignored the flood of question marks that followed. The morgue was freezing. Ryan hated the cold. He must be so uncomfortable. I forced a smile at the nurse. “Could I borrow a blanket? My son gets cold easily.” The nurse’s face softened with pity. She brought me a brand-new fleece blanket. “Here, sir. Let the little one rest comfortably.” I whispered my thanks. She waved it off. “If you want to thank someone, thank Dr. Vivian Parker from our hospital. She’s got a friend staying here as a patient.” “To make sure we’d take extra good care of him, Dr. Parker spent thousands on gifts for the entire staff. This blanket alone costs a few hundred dollars.” “Spending that much on him? I bet he’s her boyfriend.” I froze. I thought of those days when Ryan was dying—when I went on my knees begging doctors for help, scraping together pennies, drowning in desperation. Tears streamed down my face before I could stop them. “Yeah. Thanks to Dr. Parker.” My hands shook as I wrapped Ryan in the blanket. The nurse looked at me with unbearable sympathy. “Where’s the child’s mother? Why isn’t she here at a time like this? If she could’ve scraped together the money, you wouldn’t have lost him to something as treatable as surgery…” I smiled bitterly. “His mother? She’s gone.” The nurse started to apologize, then fell silent. She didn’t know what else to say. As I stumbled through the paperwork, I turned a corner—and ran straight into Vivian. She was rushing down the hall, pushing Harvey in a wheelchair at full speed. She barreled into me so hard I slammed sideways into the wall. “Get out of the way!” My head cracked against the concrete. Blood trickled down my forehead. Vivian didn’t even glance back to see who she’d hit. She just kept running, screaming at a doctor up ahead. “Dr. Walker! Harvey needs a cardiac exam—NOW!” I slid down the wall, curling into myself as pain wracked my body. I sat there for a long time. Eventually, Harvey came back with Vivian in tow. “See? I told you that you hit someone. You should apologize. The doctor said I’m fine—I’m a grown man, I can handle a little scare.” He glanced down. His eyes met mine. “Oh. Wait… the guy you just mowed down is Jason?”

Vivian’s face shifted. Guilt flickered across her expression as she reached down to help me up. But Harvey’s eyes glinted. He cut in smoothly. “Jason, Vivian barely touched you. Why’d you fall over like that? You mad because she came with me to the doctor? Don’t be so petty, man.” He gave Vivian a little nudge. “Go on. Go make up with him.” Vivian’s outstretched hand froze mid-air. She frowned at me instead. “Seriously, Jason? I didn’t even push you that hard. Are you really throwing a tantrum over fifty thousand dollars again?” My heart felt like it had turned to ice. I braced myself against the wall and tried to stand, but my legs buckled. I stumbled forward—toward Harvey. He jerked back immediately, pinching his nose. “Dude, what is that smell? You reek.” “Vivian’s a doctor, for God’s sake. Jason, look at yourself…” Vivian wrinkled her nose in disgust, taking in my exhausted, filthy appearance. “Jason, you’re a mess. You seriously stink. Why didn’t you go home and shower?!” Since Ryan died, I’d been holding him. Holding him until his body started to decompose. Rage boiled up inside me. I wanted to scream at her. “Yeah. That’s the smell of YOUR son.” But before I could, a nurse walked by and lit up at the sight of Vivian. “Oh! Dr. Parker! I thought you were off today. What are you doing here?” The nurse’s curious gaze bounced between the three of us before landing on me. “And who’s this?” For years, Vivian insisted that doctors needed to avoid nepotism. She said if people at the hospital knew she had a son and was still doting on Harvey, there’d be rumors. People would talk. So she never told anyone at work about Ryan or me. Vivian’s expression darkened. Panic flashed in her eyes. “Oh. Harvey’s staying here as a patient. This is… the caregiver I hired for him.” I stood there, frozen. Every word I wanted to say died in my throat. Once the nurse was out of earshot, Vivian exhaled in relief. She stepped toward me, trying to pull me into a hug. “Jason, I didn’t mean it like that. Doctors just have to maintain a certain image—” I laughed. Cold and bitter. “What image?” Harvey snorted. “Come on, Jason. Vivian’s a respected doctor at this hospital. Look at you—you’re dressed like a homeless guy. You want people to know she’s married to that? You’d embarrass her.” Vivian said nothing. Her silence was agreement. I clenched my faded, threadbare shirt in my fists. My eyes locked onto the diamond-studded watch glittering on Harvey’s wrist. That watch was bought with my broken body. With my son’s life. The hatred inside me exploded. I swung. But before my fist even touched him, Harvey let out a bloodcurdling scream. “Vivian! My heart—it hurts! Don’t let him hit me!” CRACK. Before I could process what happened, Vivian’s hand flew across my face. The slap sent my world spinning. I tasted copper. She cradled Harvey in her arms like he was made of glass. “Jason! You KNOW Harvey has a bad heart—and you still tried to hurt him?!” I pressed my hand to my bleeding nose, glaring at him with pure hatred. “His heart’s bad? What about Ryan? MY son has end-stage heart failure!” “I could beat him to death with my bare hands, and it still wouldn’t be enough!” Harvey clutched his chest dramatically, gasping. “I’m so scared, Vivian…” Vivian’s face went cold. She grabbed me by the hair and yanked—hard. “You wouldn’t DARE.” My scalp tore. I felt warm blood trickling down. My phone slipped from my pocket and clattered to the floor. The screen lit up with a notification—a payment confirmation from the cemetery. Vivian’s eyes narrowed. She shoved me hard against the wall. “What the hell is this, Jason? Are you so desperate to hurt me that you’d curse our own son?!”

She rushed Harvey to his hospital room, cradling him like he was made of glass. “Tell Ryan to wait for me. I’ll perform the surgery myself. He’ll be perfectly healthy!” “Once I’m done here, I’ll spend quality time with you two. I promise.” I thought of the past two years—Ryan suffering through his illness, always so optimistic, always comforting me. “It’s okay, Daddy. Don’t be sad. Mommy’s a super amazing doctor. She’ll make me all better.” He trusted Vivian so completely. And he’d never see her again. I coughed up blood. The bitterness flooded my mouth. I bought cheap painkillers and left the hospital to handle Ryan’s paperwork. I scraped together just enough for the final payment on the burial plot. But when the payment went through, my card declined. My hands shook as I swiped the thin piece of plastic over and over. “Please, try again. This can’t be right… I just deposited the money!” The cemetery staff just shook their heads. I frantically opened my banking app. The screen showed a cold, merciless “0.” All the blood drained from my face. I immediately called Vivian. “Vivian! If you need money for Harvey’s treatments, use your OWN! Give mine back!” Her voice was sharp with irritation. “All my money’s tied up in research! I’ll pay you back when my grant comes through! After what you did to Harvey yesterday—putting him back in the hospital—you’ve got some nerve asking for money!” My eyes burned red. I screamed into the phone. “GIVE ME MY MONEY BACK!” “Vivian, you take this money—aren’t you afraid you and Harvey will be cursed?!” My words set her off. “If you need money so badly, why did you turn down that shift your boss offered you?” “He contacted me to convince you not to pass up such a good opportunity. I felt bad for you working so hard.” “So if you’re this desperate, why didn’t you take it?” I froze. I never expected the fight club manager to contact her. My organs twisted in agony. “Vivian… if I go back there, they’ll beat me to death.” I’d never told Vivian or Ryan what I really did for money. I didn’t want them to worry. But I couldn’t understand—Vivian could care so much about a childhood friend, yet not give a damn whether her husband and son lived or died. I begged. My voice broke. “Please. I’m begging you. I can’t go back there. Please just give me the money.” She went silent for a moment. Then finally relented. “Fine. I’ll transfer it to you.” I hung up, relief flooding through me. I could buy Ryan’s plot now. I waited all day. All evening. The money never came. Instead, the fight club manager called me. “Where are you? Your wife said you agreed to come back. I’m coming to pick you up. You’re still the best punching bag we’ve got—the regulars are asking for you by name.” “She already took a 30% deposit. You back out now, I’ll kill you myself.” My phone kept buzzing with messages from the hospital. “Mr. Parker, the morgue can’t hold bodies indefinitely. Please complete your son’s paperwork and make arrangements soon.” The setting sun bled red across the sky. I called the fight club manager back, my voice hollow. “Okay. I’ll come.” I asked how much I’d make after the deposit. The number he gave me wasn’t enough for a double plot. Only enough for a single grave. I pulled my lips into something like a smile. Then I’ll use this broken body one last time. At least Ryan will have a resting place.

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My husband’s parents were trapped in a deadly mudslide, and I risked my life to pull them onto my Zodiac boat. I thought we were saved, but then my husband was going to kill us. Carter’s drone fleet, diving straight at us. He stood at the helicopter window with his arm around his assistant, watching like it was entertainment. I frantically dialed his number. “Carter! Have you lost your mind?! Your parents are on this boat!” His laugh came through cold and easy. “A year ago, Chloe’s parents got caught in that flash flood. You were the rescue captain. You picked strangers over them.” “So today? I’m giving you a front-row seat to watch your parents go under. How’s that feel?” Chloe’s voice jumped in right after, bright with excitement. “Yes! Let me watch those two get dragged down!” The boat lurched hard. Gerald and Marie pressed against me, shaking. I screamed into the phone. “Carter, open your eyes! Those are YOUR parents on this boat!” “Riley.” His tone didn’t shift at all. “You really never get tired of this.” “Mom and Dad flew out to Aspen this morning. I dropped them at the airport myself. You want to lie, at least put some effort into it.” Chloe grabbed the phone from him. “You killed my parents, Riley. Today you and those two old fools are going down with them.” I tried to hand the phone to Gerald so he could speak for himself. But he was shaking head to toe, face caked in mud, hair plastered flat. Marie looked the same. Like that, they were barely recognizable. “You’re both out of your minds!” I killed the call. No time. If I didn’t move now, the boat was going over. Marie’s face had gone ash-white. She grabbed my arm with both hands. “Riley, what is wrong with him? He wouldn’t actually—I’m his mother.” Gerald had never shown fear a day in his life. Right now his face had no color in it at all. I couldn’t stop to explain. One mistake out here and all three of us were dead. The drone swarm was churning the water around us, pulling at the hull. “Hold on. Both of you, hold on tight.” I shoved the throttle all the way forward. That’s when one of the drones swept in low. The blade caught my cheek. “Riley — you’re bleeding — your face —” Gerald’s voice cracked open. “Carter, you bastard! That’s your wife!” I bit down against the sting. God, that hurt. Carter’s voice came back through the helicopter’s speaker, cool as ever. “Watch your mouth, old man. Nobody asked you.” The drones hit us again. The boat pitched so hard we nearly went over the side. Water poured in. Half the hull dropped into the current. Marie screamed. Then a grappling hook shot down from Carter’s helicopter and locked onto the bow. His call came through. I put it on speaker. “Scared yet? There’s a document waiting in your email. Sign it, and maybe I let you walk away.” I opened my phone. I had to know what this was actually about. What I saw stopped me cold. He wanted me to sign a confession — that I’d deliberately let Chloe’s parents die during the rescue. Full liability for every casualty from that disaster. But it was Carter’s own construction company that violated the regulations. They cut corners on the mountain reinforcement. That’s what caused the flood. He wanted me as the fall guy. So Chloe could pocket the settlement. If I signed this, I was looking at prison. The rest of my life gone. Marie leaned over and saw the screen. She broke down completely. “What kind of monster — how did we raise something like this —” “He’d throw away his own wife for that woman. He’d throw away his own parents —” Gerald grabbed the phone out of my hand and jabbed it toward the helicopter. “Carter! I’m your father! You hear me? Your father! Call them off right now!” “There is no way in hell Riley is signing that!” My chest pulled tight and aching at the same time. Three years. His parents had never treated me as anything less than a daughter. Carter just laughed. “My father? Really? You’re going with that?” “Look at yourself. Covered head to toe in mud, begging for your life. My father doesn’t look like that.” “Riley, I’m done playing around. Sign it. I mean it.” Three drones broke formation and came straight at us. Gerald’s arm took the hit — a deep gash, bone showing through. “Clock’s ticking,” Carter said. “Sign it, or I send all three of you to the bottom.”

“Honey!” Marie fumbled to press both hands over Gerald’s wound. I looked up at the drone fleet. “Carter, you think you’ve already won?” “You’re all on your deathbeds, so shut the hell up.” he scoffed. I shook my head. “Someone’s been playing you. And you’re so sure you’re the one holding the cards.” “What’s that supposed to mean?” “It means you’re going to regret this. Soon.” Chloe cut in before he could respond. “Don’t listen to her. She’s buying time. Finish it, Carter.” That did it. “Fine. You want to do this the hard way.” All at once, the drones extended their metal prongs and drove toward us. One hit and they’d punch clean through the hull. I reached into the emergency kit and pulled out the flare gun. Bang—the flare gun fired! Carter burst out laughing. “A flare gun. Seriously?” “Riley, I’ve got the emergency frequencies jammed. Nobody’s picking up distress signals in this zone. You could set the whole sky on fire and it wouldn’t matter.” The wind picked up. The waves got worse. Gerald and Marie had their eyes shut. They’d stopped fighting it. I watched the flare climb. Hit its peak. Burst open. “Carter. You know what’s loaded into this flare gun besides the flare?” He went quiet. One second. Then every drone in the fleet twitched, spun out, and dropped straight into the river. Gone. All of them. “What just happened? Carter, what happened to your drones?” I unhooked the grappling line and pushed us toward the bank. Then Carter lost it completely. The helicopter dropped toward us. “You think that changes anything?” The grappling hook came down again. “Off the boat! Now!” If those rotors caught us we were done. Gerald shoved Marie toward me. “Take her and go! Move!” “Gerald —” Marie’s voice broke. Too late. The hook drove through Gerald’s injured arm and hauled him into the air. He screamed. Blood ran down his side and dripped into the water below. “Tough guy, right? Let’s see exactly how tough.” Carter worked the winch, swinging Gerald back and forth in the air like he was nothing. Marie fainted. Collapsed into my arms. Gerald had come out here himself — insisted on it. The construction project that triggered this disaster was his company’s mess to fix. He wouldn’t send lawyers. He never did. He’d shown up in person to handle the compensation, face the families directly. That’s who he was. That’s how he ended up here. That’s how Carter got him. “Carter!” My voice came out raw. “Stop! You’re going to kill him!” “Begging now?” He sounded delighted. “Sign the document. Do it right now, or I drop him.” “Okay. Okay, I’ll sign. Right now.” I dragged my phone out with shaking hands. The screen was smeared with mud and blood — I could barely read it. My fingers wouldn’t stop trembling. I found the email. Uploaded the signature. Gerald’s voice had dropped to almost nothing. “You bastard. I’m your father!” Carter got the confirmation. His tone shifted into something uglier. “You’ve all been such a pain in my ass. Go keep Chloe’s parents company.” He let go of the winch. Gerald dropped. Hit the water and gone. “No —” “Dad —”

I threw myself at the edge of the boat and grabbed at the water. Nothing. “Go ahead and cry, Riley.” Chloe’s voice was almost giddy. “Is this what you watched happen to my parents? Just stood there?” “Carter, get the old woman too.” Marie came around slowly, looking for Gerald. “Riley. Where is he.” She followed my eyes to the water. She understood. Carter was already pushing toward us. I grabbed Marie and dragged her toward the bank. The helicopter’s rotors churned the air behind us, close enough to knock us off our feet. I shoved her forward. “Run, Mom. Don’t stop.” “Riley, it’s over.” Carter’s voice through the speaker, almost cheerful. I looked back. He was leaning out of the cabin door, holding a modified nail gun. Aimed at us. Chloe was clapping. “Shoot her in the knees. I want to watch her crawl.” “Mom.” My throat tightened. “Faster. Go!” The slope was right there. If we could get to the rocks, find any cover at all — Bang. My right knee blew out. I hit the mud and couldn’t get back up. The pain was white and total. Through the wound I could see bone. “Riley!” Marie had made it up the slope. She looked back, saw me go down, and turned around without thinking. I was soaked in cold sweat. I yelled until my voice cracked. “Don’t come back! Keep running!” “Find Julian! Julian can stop him! Go!” Julian Sterling. Carter’s uncle. The one person Carter actually answered to. If Julian found out what Carter had done to his own parents, Carter was finished. “I’m not leaving you.” She was already crying. “I’m not leaving you alone down here.” She tried to pull me. We both just sank deeper into the mud. Finally, with one last look at me, she turned and ran. “Stay alive, Riley. I’m coming back.” I’d pulled people out of burning buildings. Out of collapsed structures. Out of floods worse than this one. Today I couldn’t even get myself off the ground. I pushed up onto my elbows. Watched until she was farther up the slope. The helicopter swung around. Carter’s nail gun tracked her. “Carter.” My voice was gone. Barely anything left. “Look at her. That’s your mother. That is your mother.” A short, dismissive sound through the speaker. “Still doing this, Riley? Really?” Chloe’s voice, sweet and certain. “She’s trying to trick you, babe. Your mother is back in Aspen right now. Sipping tea somewhere nice. This woman is nobody.” “You’re right,” Carter said. “My mother isn’t rolling around in the mud. Time’s up, Riley.” “Carter — come after me instead — leave her alone —” I screamed it as loud as I could. Marie’s body locked up. She looked back at me. Then the shots came. And didn’t stop. My mind went blank. The helicopter came down low. Dropped Marie’s body in front of me. Her eyes were still open. Still looking at me. Worried about me. Even at the end, she was worried about me. “There we go. Peace and quiet.” Carter sounded satisfied. “Enjoy the gift, Riley. Two for the price of one.” Chloe cheered. “That’s what they get.” The helicopter touched down. Carter climbed out, nail gun in hand, and walked toward me. I looked at him. This man I’d loved. This thing that had just killed his own parents. He smiled at me. “Rough day, Captain.” Chloe called out from behind him. “Do it. I want to see it.” My knee had gone past pain into nothing. I lay in the mud and reached out and took Marie’s hand. Already cold. I held it. “Carter.” My voice came out steadier than I expected. “If I make it out of this, I will destroy you completely.” He laughed. “Last words. Cute.” He raised the gun. “Say hi to my parents for me.” He took aim at my head. Finger on the trigger. Then the sound of rotors. Getting louder. A fleet of helicopters emerged overhead, the Sterling family crest on every one. The color drained from Carter’s face. He stared at the man stepping out.

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To spare his omega mistress the agony of delivering pups, my alpha father had bound a witch’s curse to my mother — a pain-transfer spell. The ninety-seventh transfer had just completed, and all of it had been dumped onto Mom. Inside the hospital room, she lay barely conscious, crumpled like a rag doll someone had wrung out and tossed aside. Out in the hallway, my father and his mistress were laughing — full-throated, shameless laughter — celebrating the birth of their child. My eyes burned red. Despair settled over me like a second skin. His mistress, Serena, looked down at me with pure contempt. “Save the pitiful act. Your mother owes me this.” “She’s just taking on a little pain. It’s not going to kill her.” My father’s voice was ice-cold, each word landing like a blade. “Your mother brought this on herself. She’s the one who pushed Serena down the stairs and nearly caused a stillbirth. A little pain is getting off easy.” I thought of every time Mom had screamed and writhed alone in a room while they celebrated outside. I curled my fists until my knuckles went white. I wanted to burn everything down with them still inside. And then — I heard it. A voice, crystalline and otherworldly, rising inside my mother’s mind. “My child. I offer you the gift of rebirth, and the power to return every wound to those who gave it.” “From this moment forward, when the one hundredth pain transfer is complete —” “All harm will be returned to its source, doubled.” “The witch’s curse will shatter. Every fortune, every title, every glory belonging to those who hurt you — all of it will be surrendered to you.” Silence. Then, slowly, color crept back into Mom’s pale cheeks. The despair that had clouded her eyes dissolved. Serena noticed. She let out a sharp, mocking laugh. “Damien, what did I tell you? She’s faking. Look at her — color in her face already. She’s been performing this whole time.” My father stared at the woman in the bed. Whatever flicker of guilt had been in his eyes went out entirely. “Elara Voss, you disgust me. Pulling a stunt like this just to make me feel sorry for you?” “Since your body’s so fine, drag yourself out there and kneel in front of Serena. You stay on your knees until she forgives you.” My face went cold. A year ago, Serena had heard that winter swimming could help with weight loss. She had waded into a frozen lake, pushed herself too hard, and spiked a fever of a hundred and four. She could barely stand. My father had coaxed my mother with honeyed words, transferred Serena’s fever and pain directly into her. Mom had spent three days and three nights unable to sleep, rolling across the bed in agony. She never fully recovered. Her joints ached every time the temperature dropped. And now he wanted her to kneel on cold stone floors with those ruined knees. He knew. He knew exactly what that would do to her — and he was asking for it anyway. There had been a time he was gentle with her. All of that gentleness now belonged to Serena. Over the years, he had transferred pain into Mom for everything — Serena’s surgery recoveries, Serena’s gym injuries, even once when Serena clipped her fingernail too short and nicked the skin. Every ache, every inconvenience, tunneled straight into my mother. Mom, who had once had bright, clear eyes — she had grown dim under the weight of it all. I was about to step forward and say something. Mom caught my arm and shook her head, once, quiet and firm. She looked directly at my father, her voice low and hoarse. “Damien Ashford. Sever the bond.” He blinked, startled. Then his hand shot out and he yanked her upright from the bed, his grip vicious. “Is that a threat, Elara?” Her face went paler. He saw it. His grip loosened just slightly, his voice dropping half a degree. “You are and will always be my luna. But the fact remains — you put Serena in danger. You nearly cost her and the baby their lives.” “Kneel before her and mean it, and I’ll have ginger broth and a heating salve sent up. I’ll protect your legs.” When she heard that, Mom let out a smile — hollow, heartbroken — as though she had just remembered the punchline to a very old joke. The rage I’d barely tamped down flared back to life. Even now, after everything, he was still dangling the title of luna over her head like bait on a hook. Hadn’t that title already taken enough? Because of it, she had run every ceremony in Ashford Pack — every coming-of-age ritual, every pack feast, every full moon gathering — organized by her hands alone, while he stood at the front and took the credit. Because of it, she had taught herself to cook from scratch, never having set foot in a kitchen before the bond. Her hands were maps of old scars from burns and cuts. And Serena — Serena had everything except the title. Money. Devotion. His time. His protection. And when it came to bearing his children, he wouldn’t even let her feel the pain of it. I had begged him. On my knees, I had begged him not to put Mom through it again. She was a werewolf — she could heal — but there were limits. Do it enough times and it would kill her. He had told me Mom had already been through childbirth. She could handle it. Serena, he said, was too delicate. Too delicate. Serena was a full year older than my mother. She only looked younger because she had spent years wrapped in his affection like a hothouse flower, while Mom had aged in his shadow. I tightened my fists. Every nerve in me screamed to go at him. Mom held me back again. Then she reached for the fruit knife on the bedside table and pressed it to her own throat.

“Kneeling isn’t enough. Take my life instead. Will that satisfy you?” The blade was thin but sharp. A line of red opened across Mom’s neck, and blood slid down the pale column of her throat. My father’s pupils blew wide. For the first time tonight, he looked genuinely afraid. “Elara, have you lost your mind? Lyra — don’t just stand there! Do you want to watch your mother bleed out?” Mom looked at him, and the bigger his panic grew, the calmer her smile became. “Damien, wouldn’t it be easier if I were gone? Then there’s nothing standing between you and Serena.” His face tightened, words stumbling over each other. “That — you’re being ridiculous. I have never thought of Serena as anything but a sister—” A sister. Right. A sister he had shared a bed with for three years and fathered a child with. “Elara, stop making a scene. If someone reports this to the Lycan King, we’ll lose our honored pack status before the year is out.” And there it was. Three years he had been with Serena. Three years, and now he wanted to play devoted mate? No — he was afraid of the scandal. Afraid the rumors would reach the throne and undo everything he’d spent years building. His reputation. His pack’s standing. His perfect image as a faithful, noble alpha. He wanted Mom to stay because she kept everything running and made him look good. He wanted Serena because she made him feel good. He didn’t want to lose either one. I looked at the blood on Mom’s neck, my eyes burning, and pressed a fold of gauze against the cut to slow the bleeding. “Mom. Don’t do this to yourself. He isn’t worth it.” She lifted her hand — slow, effortful — and brushed the hair from my forehead. She looked at my red eyes, and gently wiped the corner of one with her thumb. “Don’t cry. It will all be over soon. And then… we’ll be free.” She swayed. I caught her before she could fall. But Serena wasn’t finished. “Damien—” Her voice went honeyed and pitiful. “It hurts. I think my incision tore open.” Damien crossed the room in three steps. He lifted the hem of Serena’s hospital gown, and there it was — the surgical wound, split open in a way that did not look accidental. His jaw hardened. He spun toward the nurses. “Transfer Serena’s pain to Elara Voss. Now.” And in the same instant, the voice returned — crystalline and cold — inside my mother’s mind. “The ninety-eighth transfer is complete.” Serena sagged against Damien’s chest and pressed her fingers delicately to her eyes. “Elara, I’m so sorry. I hate to keep putting this on you.” Mom shuddered — the full-body kind, the kind that meant the pain had arrived in a wave. Her face went white as paper. But she clenched her jaw and made no sound. Her lips curved into a cold, anticipatory smile. I understood. She had done this on purpose. She had pushed them — goaded them — into triggering the transfer. Two left. Only two more. But God, the thought of her enduring two more— I gripped the hem of her sleeve, blinking hard against the sting in my eyes. “Mom… we can walk away. Leave everything. I don’t care about any of it.” Mom tried to smile. Serena cut in before she could speak. Her voice dripped sweetness, laced with poison. “Elara, I know you blame me for taking Damien away from you.” “But what could I do? We fell in love. I gave up everything — I didn’t even ask for the title of luna. I’ve been so patient. And then you nearly killed me on that operating table.” She paused and sighed, theatrical as a stage actress. “All I’m asking for is an apology. Why play the victim?” “Fine. Maybe it’s my fault for everything. Maybe I deserve to die.” She turned — and her foot swung, hard and deliberate, straight into my mother’s body.

“Ahh—” For the first time all night, Mom couldn’t hold it in. The cry tore out of her, raw and broken. My father flinched. He started to raise his hands toward her — Then Serena threw herself into his chest, eyes shimmering, bottom lip trembling. “Damien — it hurts—” One look at her face, and whatever fragment of conscience had stirred in him was gone. “Elara! She stepped back to give you room and you shoved her? After everything she’s done to accommodate you?” “Transfer the pain. Do it now.” He never even glanced at my mother. He didn’t see her face going the color of ash. He just held Serena and murmured into her hair while the nurses scrambled to carry out his order. Within minutes, Mom’s breathing had gone shallow and ragged. My eyes flooded red. I fixed my gaze on Serena, still nestled in my father’s arms, and watched the corner of her mouth pull up in a small, triumphant smirk. I was already moving when Mom grabbed my wrist and held on. Her lips barely parted. Four words, barely a breath. “One more. Just one.” I stopped. My whole body went still. One more transfer. That was all that stood between us and one hundred. Serena caught the pause. She shifted deliberately in my father’s arms and pressed a hand to her abdomen, right over the incision, rubbing it in slow circles. My father tensed immediately. He opened his mouth — Mom lifted her eyes. The ruin of her face held no expression at all. Her voice came out like iron. “Damien Ashford. After this one, there is no going back.” Serena’s eyes filled on cue, her chin wobbling. “Elara, even if you don’t want to take on my pain, you don’t have to keep threatening Damien with things like that.” She turned to him, voice breaking. “Damien, let’s just stop here. I can’t keep watching you be torn apart like this.” She made to walk away. My father’s brow creased. He looked at Mom with open disappointment, then immediately reached out to pull Serena back against him, his voice a sharp crack aimed at Mom. “Elara, enough. If you don’t want to be luna of Ashford Pack, fine — I’ll release you from it. But even if I dissolve the bond, you’re not leaving this pack. You will continue to take on Serena’s pain. That is what you owe.” He paused, and his eyes hardened further. “I was going to authorize pain medication for you. I’m rescinding that.” “Let’s see how long you can hold out.” He had them lock us in the room next door. No food. No water. No medication of any kind. I pressed cloth against Mom’s wounds, watching them multiply — wounds that had no source, opening on her skin from nowhere, blooming red. “Mom, let me stop the bleeding—” “Silly girl. Don’t cry. It doesn’t hurt. Not compared to the other ninety-eight times. This is nothing.” She could barely lift her arm. But she tried again and again until her hand found my face, and she touched my cheek — so softly. “Lyra… when it’s done… I’m taking you away from here.”

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My curse has never once been wrong. When I speak misfortune into someone, not even God can stop it. I was five years old when a trafficker grew tired of my crying and beat me half to death. I stared up at him through the blood running into my eyes. “You’ll be crushed flat by a truck.” The words had barely left my mouth when a runaway semi plowed through the yard and turned him into something that couldn’t be pieced back together. Later, at the group home, the director skimmed the food budget and locked me in a storage closet when I complained. I told him he’d choke to death on his own greed. That same afternoon, he died at the lunch table — a chunk of meat lodged in his throat while he was eating the good stuff he’d bought with our money. After that, I became the monster everyone avoided. I learned to keep my mouth shut. I kept it shut even after the Holts found me and brought me home. Dad arranged for me to join the family company. I’d only made it through one day when I pushed open the front door and found Nora Blake, the girl who’d been living my life for twenty years, sobbing in Nathan Cole’s arms. “Does Rhea hate me?” she whimpered. “She’s been telling people at the office that I slept with Mr. Stratton to land the Westside Project. That I came back with diseases. That I’m—” Mom crossed the room and slapped me across the face. “Nora is a decent girl. How dare you drag her name through the mud like this?” Dad pointed at me, his voice shaking with rage. “This is what happens when you raise a child in the gutter. Jealousy and filth. Get to your room. You don’t come out until I say so.” I pressed my hand to my stinging cheek and looked at the satisfaction glinting in Nora’s eyes. I let out a slow, cold laugh. Me — spread rumors? Fine. If I’m carrying the blame either way, you’d better be ready for what happens when I actually open my mouth. — “Mom, Dad, Rhea’s still smiling,” Nora murmured, pressing herself deeper into Nathan’s chest, her shoulders trembling. “Look at her.” Mom’s face went red. She grabbed a glass of water off the table and threw it in my face. “You blight on this family! I never should have brought you back!” “We pulled you out of nothing, gave you everything — and you repay us by destroying your sister’s reputation!” “What kind of person are you?” I locked my jaw so hard I tasted blood. Nathan rubbed Nora’s back with one hand and looked at me like I was something scraped off the bottom of his shoe. “Rhea. I’ve said it before — a girl like you doesn’t belong in the Holt family. You sure as hell don’t belong on my arm.” “The only reason I ever agreed to this engagement was because Nora kept asking me to give you a chance.” “Get on your knees and apologize to her. Or I end this engagement right now.” I dropped my gaze to the puddle of water spreading across the floor and said nothing. My curse has never been wrong. Not once. In the six months since the Holts brought me home, they gave me something I’d never had — the feeling of being wanted. Mom sat up through the night when I had a fever, pressing a cool cloth to my forehead. Dad burned three batches of food trying to cook for me, then beamed when he finally managed a decent pork chop and set the first piece on my plate. My brother Blake, who had sworn he’d never accept me, started quietly tucking snacks into my bag when he thought I wasn’t looking. Mom would cup my face in her hands, eyes wet, and say the last twenty years must have been so hard. Dad would call for the car and ride with me to the office himself, telling me to build connections, learn the business — that someday all of it would be mine. I kept my mouth sealed to hold onto even that small, fragile warmth. I was terrified that if I spoke the wrong words, I’d take them from myself. But Nora caught the look on my face and cried harder. “She thinks if she stays quiet, she can just wait it out, doesn’t she?” “She destroyed my reputation. People at the office look at me differently now. How am I supposed to survive in this industry?” Nathan grabbed the thin silver chain at my throat, the one with the christening charm I’d worn since birth, and ripped it free. The skin burned. The clasp snapped. That charm was the reason Mom recognized me. She’d clasped it around my neck herself the day I was born. Twenty-something years of hoping I’d come home safe. “Give it back.” I lunged for it. Nathan shoved me to the ground. Right there in front of me, he fastened the charm around Nora’s neck. “Something this precious deserves to be worn by someone pure,” he said, his eyes sliding over me with contempt. “A girl like Nora — kind, clean, worth something.” “You?” He let out a short, disgusted laugh. “You’re a foul-mouthed nobody. You’d taint it just by touching it.” Blake came thundering down the stairs, his face dark, and grabbed me by the collar before I’d taken another breath. “I said from day one we never should have brought you here!” he snarled, his grip twisting the fabric at my throat. “You know who begged me to give you a chance?” “Nora. She’s the one who asked me to treat you like family. She gave up her own bedroom for you, do you understand that?” “Every good thing in this house — she handed it to you first. Every single time.” His lip curled. “And this is what you are. A damn snake we pulled out of the dirt and warmed up, and you bit us the second you got the chance.” He wrenched his hand away and wheeled toward the door. “Someone get the house manager up here right now!” he bellowed. “Lock her up — I don’t care how long it takes.” “Nobody brings her so much as a glass of water without mine or my parents’ permission. Nobody.” Two guards were on me in seconds, wrenching my arms behind my back, and dragged me up the stairs.

They kept me in that room for seven days. Once a night, the housekeeper slid a bowl through the door. Leftovers. Cold by the time they reached me. Outside, the house rang with laughter. The Holt family, complete and content. Nora made a point of standing just outside my door with Nathan, her voice honeyed and just loud enough to reach me through the gap. “Nathan, this necklace is too expensive. You should give it to Rhea.” “I know you love me. But she’s their real daughter.” “Maybe we should just… stop. I can stand back and watch you be happy from a distance—” She let her voice crack on the last word. “Even if it breaks me. It would still be worth it.” Nathan pulled her close and kicked my door hard enough to rattle the frame. “Don’t talk nonsense,” Nathan said, his voice dripping with disdain. “That girl we dragged in from nowhere isn’t fit to carry your shoes.” “Honestly, every time I look at her, it turns my stomach. What right does she have to wear anything that costs real money?” “Don’t worry. Even if I go through with the marriage, I won’t touch her. Not once. You’re the only one, Nora. That will never change.” I sat with my back against the door and listened to the two of them perform their devotion for me. I dragged my cracked lips into a smile. “Sleeping in a necklace that heavy,” I said quietly. “Hope she doesn’t wake up with a stiff neck.” The next morning, Nora’s scream split the hallway. “Ow — it hurts — Blake, I can’t move my neck!” Then Blake’s voice, tight with panic, stumbling over reassurances. The housekeeper’s quick footsteps. Someone calling for ice. I sat still and listened to the chaos outside my door. Slowly, I closed my eyes. The smile on my face kept growing. — On the eighth day, the lock finally turned. Nora stood in the doorway, chin lifted. “Look at you. You’re a mess.” She clicked her tongue. “Come on. Mom and Dad want you downstairs. We’re going to the office.” “All you have to do is stand in front of everyone and clear my name. One apology. Then we move on.” I got up and walked out. I was almost at the top of the stairs when Nora stepped close and put her lips near my ear. “You grew up with nothing and came crawling into my family. Did you really think you could take my parents? My man?” Her voice was silk over gravel. “Know your place.” I stopped. Before I could say a single word, Nora let out a piercing shriek. “Rhea, don’t — I’m not trying to take the inheritance, I swear—!” She threw herself backward and tumbled down the staircase. “Nora!” Nathan was at the bottom in seconds. Blake. Mom. Dad. Nora collapsed against Nathan’s chest, tears streaming. “Don’t blame Rhea,” she gasped. “I lost my footing. It was an accident.” Blake’s eyes were red when he looked up at me. “You’ve lived in this house for over twenty years and never once slipped on those stairs,” Blake said, his voice cracking. “Don’t stand there and tell me that was an accident.” Mom came up the stairs two steps at a time and hit me across the face — twice, hard, open-palmed. I’d had nothing but scraps for seven days. The force of it sent me straight to the floor. The hallway tilted. My ears rang. Dad stood at the bottom of the staircase and pointed up at me, his voice breaking with rage. “How did this family produce something like you? What kind of person does this to someone who took her in?” I pressed my hand to my face and looked down at all of them. There was a hollow in my chest where something used to be. Just cold air moving through an empty space. I pulled the corner of my mouth up. “If I had actually wanted to hurt her,” I said, “I wouldn’t have needed to be in the same room.” Blake’s whole body shook. He turned and kicked the hall table hard enough to send it crashing into the wall. “Did you hear that?” he shouted at our parents, his voice raw. “Are you listening to her?” “Nora’s lying in Nathan’s arms half-conscious and she’s standing there acting like the victim!” Nathan held Nora against him and stared at me with murder in his eyes. “You are unbelievable. No remorse. Not one word of it.” Dad turned his face away like the sight of me disgusted him. “Take her back upstairs. Lock the door.” I pulled against the guards’ grip and laughed once, short and cold. “Keep performing like that and she might actually break something. Then you’ll have a real problem.” Nora, who had been fake-crying beautifully in Nathan’s arms, went suddenly still. Her head dropped. Mom screamed. “Nathan — the car, now! Hospital!” Nathan scooped Nora up and ran. Mom and Dad and Blake scrambled after him. The courtyard filled with engine noise. Then they were gone. The guards threw me back in my room.

A few days later, Nora was discharged. Mom and Dad loaded me into the car and drove me to the office. The lobby — usually all clean lines and quiet professionalism — was packed. Every employee in the building had been called down. The LED screen at the center of the room looped two videos on repeat. The first showed Nora on a volunteer trip, handing out school supplies to kids in a rural county. The second showed her at the office past midnight, surrounded by Westside Project files. Dad took the microphone and stepped up to the front. “I owe each of you an explanation. The Holt family made the mistake of bringing back a young woman with no character and no gratitude.” “Out of jealousy, she spread vile rumors about Nora throughout this company.” “She has damaged our reputation and disgraced this family.” Mom stood beside him dabbing her eyes, every inch the wounded mother. The murmuring started immediately. “Rags to riches and rotten underneath — what a surprise.” “Heard she grew up rough. People like that, you can never trust them around nice things.” “She’d slander her own sister. What wouldn’t she do?” The voices crashed over me from every direction. Nora let Nathan guide her forward until she was standing directly in front of me. She was holding a single sheet of paper — Statement of Confession and Apology printed across the top in clean, official type. “I know why you did it, Rhea.” “Sign this, clear my name properly, and get on your knees and apologize in front of everyone. Do that, and I’ll forgive you.” I stared at her face. That carefully arranged expression of wounded generosity. My chest was heaving. “I never said any of those things,” I said. “And if I had actually said you slept with—” Nathan’s foot drove into the back of my knee. My legs folded. Both knees hit the marble floor at once. The pain detonated up through my joints and exploded along every nerve in my body. Cold sweat soaked through my shirt before I’d drawn another breath. Laughter broke out across the lobby. Phones rose. Flashes went off in my face. Around me, people laughed. Phones came out. Cameras flashed. “Serves her right.” The humiliation moved through me like something physical — slow, corrosive, thorough. And then, from somewhere in the crowd, a voice cut through everything. “She didn’t spread those rumors. I was there. I can prove it.” The room went silent. Every head turned. It was Casey — the intern I’d found crying in the break room on my first day, after her supervisor had torn into her in front of the whole floor. I’d sat with her for ten minutes. Brought her a coffee. Told her she’d done nothing wrong. She pushed through the crowd and planted herself in front of me, facing Nora. “I was working late that night.” Her voice shook but held. “I saw Ms. Blake get into Mr. Stratton’s car in the parking garage. I saw what happened in the back seat. I recorded it.” The lobby went airless. The color drained from Nora’s face. Then she turned it around in two seconds flat, spinning toward Nathan, burying her face in his collar. “How much did Rhea pay her?” she sobbed. “She couldn’t spread enough lies herself, so she hired someone?” “I can’t do this anymore. I don’t want to live like this.” The crowd’s shock curdled back into contempt. Nathan stepped forward and backhanded Casey across the face before she could say another word. She stumbled and went down hard. Blood at the corner of her mouth. I pulled against the guards holding me. “Stop—” “Get her out of this building,” Dad said into the microphone. “Terminate her contract. Blacklist her across the industry.” Four security guards moved in. Casey curled on the floor with her arms over her head while they hit her. Her cries got quieter. Then quieter still.

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The night before Valentine’s Day, my fiancé texted me that our wedding had to be postponed again. [Babe, I’m sorry. Something came up with the team before the hockey game. We’ll have to postpone the wedding again.] Then I looked up. Right there at the arena entrance, Liam had Chloe, his cheer captain, pinned inside his open jacket. He lost patience, pressed Chloe against the wall, and devoured her mouth. “Just to keep your little game going, I’ve stood Ava up six times,” Liam said. “This is the last time. Next year, no matter what, I’m marrying her.” Chloe was laughing against his mouth. “I heard your new bed’s ready. I think I’ll try you out in it first.” “Don’t thank me. Call it an early wedding gift.” I dug my nails into my palm and called Liam’s parents. [Mr. and Mrs. Carter, can you gather everyone and come to the apartment tonight? Let’s get it ready early.] [Yes. I want to surprise Liam.] If this was how he wanted to play, I would make sure he regretted it. …… [Don’t tell Liam we’re all in the city yet.] [Perfect. I’ll meet you all downstairs.] After I hung up, I opened the security app on my phone. The footage showed everything — from the front door all the way to the master bedroom. On screen, they tangled together from the moment they entered, kissing their way down the hallway, hands everywhere, until they disappeared into the bedroom. I saw the custom team mascot charm I’d had made with his jersey number. It was lying on the floor in the wreckage. I stood still and let the cold go through me. Both families arrived before long. My parents reached me first. “Did you find him, Ava? Did you see Liam?” “Don’t worry — your dad already called the team’s front office. Nobody is pulling Liam into a meeting this weekend. The wedding goes ahead.” I held everything down and made myself smile. “Good.” “Ava, weren’t you going to surprise him? Stop standing there — let’s go up.” I looked at the red balloons and streamers in everyone’s hands. My nose stung. The tears came anyway. Liam and I had known each other ten years. Together for eight. The wedding had been pushed back six times. Six years ago, one month out — he said he was going for team captain. I agreed to delay. Three years ago, one week out — closed playoff camp. I agreed again. This year, as I got older, my parents couldn’t wait any longer. Three days ago, they arrived in our city with a whole group of relatives, ready to help me prepare for the wedding. But I never imagined that the apartment I had spent six years decorating with hope, every piece of furniture I chose, every inch of flooring, would be occupied by another woman. She settled in like she belonged there. My stomach turned. I made it to a trash can and stayed there for a while. I wanted to tell them everything. Half an hour ago, Liam texted me personally to say the wedding was being pushed back another year. I wanted to tell my parents he had been cheating. That every time he called off the wedding weekend, he was with Chloe. But I found that my throat had been seized by something invisible. Not a single word came out. In the elevator, I forced down a mouthful of cold water. “Liam. It’s time you found out what it feels like to be the one made a fool of.”

Everyone stepped off the elevator and stopped. A lace bra. Men’s boxers. A hockey jersey. Scattered across the hallway floor. I kicked them toward the wall and pretended to be embarrassed. Liam’s mother covered her mouth to hide a smile. She unlocked the door. From the master bedroom came unmistakable sounds — a woman’s breathless moaning, shameless and wild. “Big boy — you’re so strong — feels amazing —” “When you’re here with your wife — will you think of me?” “Every time you see the furniture she picked out — will you remember today?” The room froze. Nobody moved toward the bedroom. Nobody said a word. I made my legs move. I walked to the bedroom door and stopped at the threshold. I bit down hard. I tasted blood. “Liam. Get out here. Right now.” “Did you hear me?” “You betray my daughter and you think you’re standing there?” My father charged toward the bedroom. Both fists hit the door. Just as he drew his foot back to kick it in, Liam squeezed out through the gap wrapped in a towel. “Mr. Hayes — Mom — Dad — Marcus —” “How did you all — why didn’t anyone —” He didn’t finish. My father’s fist landed on his face. “You disgusting piece of work. Ava waited six years for you.” “Six years. Is this what she was waiting for?” Before Liam could recover, my mother had already come back from the kitchen with a knife. “Where is she. Where is that girl. She thinks she can touch my daughter’s fiancé.” “I’ll deal with her myself.” Liam tore the knife away and threw it on the floor. “Mr. Hayes, Mrs. Hayes — this is a misunderstanding.” “I had just planned to come home early to surprise Ava.” “I’d just gotten out of the shower when you all showed up.” My cousin Marcus had already pushed into the bedroom. “Liam — don’t you dare betray my sister.” He stopped. The bed was made. Tight, clean, untouched-looking. He checked every corner. No second person. Liam’s mother exhaled and spoke first. “See? Liam would never do something like that.” “We all jumped to conclusions.” “Ava, sweetheart — next time just wait upstairs with him instead of bringing everyone up.” She picked up the jersey from the floor and threw it at her son. “And you — watching porn on your phone. Look at this mess you made.” Liam’s younger cousin jumped in. “Honestly though — did you two already hook up and just throw your clothes everywhere without cleaning up?” “That’s a bit much, man.” Liam pulled his clothes on fast, trying to cover his tracks. “Talk about bad luck. What kind of person gets busted watching porn in their own apartment?” He fake-coughed, trying to steer the conversation away. “Since everyone’s here — should we go out for dinner?” “Ava — what do you think?”

I didn’t move. He crossed the room and pulled me into his side. “Weren’t you just curled up against me before? Now you’re shy?” He dropped his voice next to my ear. “Let’s take everyone to dinner. I’ll explain the thing later. It’s not what it looked like. Trust me. Say something — everyone’s waiting.” Sure. Everyone’s waiting. Or maybe the person hiding was the one who’d been waiting longest. Ten years together. Liam knew exactly how to handle me. Every time he and Chloe crossed a line and called it friendship, I had let it go. I had believed every excuse, every single time. But he didn’t know: the moment I found out he had stood me up six times — for her — I stopped wanting to marry him. I didn’t want to expose the truth. I wanted to see them suffer the results of their own actions. I stepped out of his arms. Slowly, I turned to face the crowd. “It really was just a misunderstanding. We got a little carried away before you all arrived — sorry about that.” “Mom, Dad and Liam’s parents.” “Since everyone came all this way, why don’t we just cook at home?” “Absolutely not.” Liam and his parents refused at the same moment. Liam’s mother recovered first. “The fridge is empty. It’s already late. A restaurant is easier for everyone.” “Exactly. Let’s not keep standing around.” “Come on, Ava.” All three of them knew. The master bathroom had a hidden door. They wanted everyone out so Chloe could slip away. Not happening. I ignored the three pairs of Carter eyes and dropped onto the sofa. “We’ve all been on our feet all day. Nobody wants to drive across town now.” “I’ve already ordered the groceries. They’ll be here in twenty minutes.” “No Smoked ham for anyone? Marcus — still nothing spicy? Already noted.” The Carters sat down. They had no choice. In the kitchen, Liam found me and lowered his voice. “Ava. Did you get my text? I was trying to surprise you. It went sideways.” I looked up like I hadn’t heard anything. “What text? I never checked my phone — I’ve been setting up all day.” I reached for my pocket. He caught my wrist. “Forget it. The wedding is still on. Tomorrow you’re officially my wife.” I pulled free and went back to the living room. By the time the groceries arrived, everyone was already busy in the kitchen. The master bedroom was left to the two of us. I stared at the bedding. It was a mess — rumpled, disheveled. The air still carried the faint scent of sex. Liam’s eyes darted around nervously. He rushed over and yanked the entire set — duvet, sheets, all of it — onto the floor. “It’s been sitting empty. I don’t want dust.” He pulled a fresh set from the closet. “Sit down. I’ll do it. You’ve carried all of this alone — I see that.” “Once I make the All-Star roster I’ll push for a home trade. We’ll have the life you always wanted. I promise.” I stopped listening and reached for the handle of the hidden bathroom door. He grabbed me from behind. “Wait —”

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Today, my husband came home with his mistress and forced me to sign the divorce papers. Then he threw me out. Because I had been a housewife and had not earned any money, they refused to let me take even a single suitcase. My bank cards were frozen. All I had left was twenty-three dollars from grocery shopping. Twenty-three dollars was not enough to find a place to stay in Manhattan. I did not want to sleep on the street, so I stubbornly kept scrolling through job apps. But every job requires work experience. I had none. Then one posting caught my eye. Wanted: Stepmother for a child. Food and lodging included. The words “lodging included” instantly caught my attention. That night, I went there. Standing outside the gates of a luxury estate, I did not expect the employer to be the Blackwell family—the richest family in the world. Beside me stood a proud-looking butler. “Mr. Blackwell is looking for a mother for his son, not a wife for himself. Please keep that in mind. Do not have any inappropriate ideas.” I lowered my head slightly and kept my eyes forward. In truth, I had only finalized my divorce that morning. I had no interest in marrying another man right now. But if I could take care of a child and have a place to stay, I would not have to spend money renting an apartment. For me, trapped in such a desperate situation, this was a very good chance. I nodded respectfully. “I understand. I won’t overstep.” Butler Whitman nodded and led me into the dining room. Beside the long dining table, a young father and son were locked in a silent battle. The calm, cold-looking man held a bowl and spoon, his face dark. The gloomy little boy bit his lip and refused to back down. After a long while, the man sighed and put down the bowl in defeat. “Leo, just one bite. Please?” Butler Whitman brought me forward. “Mr. Blackwell, another applicant is here.” The man slowly turned around. He wore simple black trousers and a white shirt. The top button was undone, faintly revealing his collarbone. I had seen this face before on financial news. He was too handsome and too striking. One look was enough to remember him forever. The moment I saw his face, I finally relaxed. He was Adrian, the richest man in the world. There was no reason for a man like him to scheme against a divorced woman as broke as me. His deep gaze swept over me lightly, his voice carrying a trace of exhaustion. “What is your name?” “Nora,” I said. He nodded and handed me the bowl. “Try feeding Leo. If you succeed, you can stay.”

I had to perform well. If I could stay, at least I would not have to sleep on the street tonight. Holding the bowl, I smiled gently and walked toward Leo. But before I could take two steps, Leo shot under the dining table. Only a pair of dark, grape-like eyes remained visible. He shouted angrily at Adrian. “No! Make her leave! I don’t want her to feed me! They are all bad women!” It seemed that before me, Leo had already met several “stepmothers.” I looked around and noticed superhero figures everywhere in the house. An idea immediately came to me. I picked up a superhero figure and placed it under the table beside Leo. Then I smiled and said, “Don’t worry. I’m not here to feed you. I’m here to feed Spider-Man.” After saying that, I pretended to feed Spider-Man. “Eat more. You need to be full before you can save New York.” “A child who doesn’t eat will have skinny arms and legs. If he can’t even protect himself, how can he protect the city?” Leo lay beside me with a pitiful look, as if he had been completely forgotten. He smacked his lips several times. I pretended not to notice. Only when his nose turned red from anxiety and he was about to cry did I act as if I had just discovered him. “Oh my! Why is there a tiny hero here too?” “Spider-Man, can you share the rest of your food with him? Only after he eats can he grow as strong as you.” I lowered my voice and pretended to speak like Spider-Man. “Of course. Only when you’re full will you have the strength to save the world.” Then I returned to my normal voice and smiled as I brought the spoon to Leo’s mouth. “Do you want to eat now?” Leo nodded hard and immediately took the spoon into his mouth. After several big bites, he even glared at me accusingly. “Why aren’t you feeding me more? Are you scared I’ll become stronger than Spider-Man? Bad woman!” I laughed. By accident, I met Adrian’s eyes. I saw the tension between his brows ease. He gave me an approving smile. I knew I had passed the interview. That night, I stayed in the estate. Four-year-old Leo and I lived on the second floor. Adrian lived alone on the third. Butler Whitman reminded me again and again. “You must never go to the third floor. A woman once got bold and sneaked upstairs in the middle of the night, trying to climb into Mr. Blackwell’s bed. Mr. Blackwell had security throw her out on the spot.” I nodded repeatedly and promised I would never cross the line. Leo was very independent. At only four years old, he could sleep by himself. That saved me a lot of trouble. The next afternoon, when Adrian came home from work, I was feeding Leo at the front of the mansion. There was a pet leash around Leo’s neck. He sat side by side with a Golden Retriever on the lawn. The Golden Retriever took one bite. Leo took one bite. They were both enjoying themselves. Adrian’s face darkened on the spot. “Nora, what the hell are you treating my son as?”

His voice was cold and sharp. I trembled. Before I could say anything, Leo spoke first. “Daddy, Nora and I are role-playing. Look, I ate way more than Max!” “Woof! Woof woof! Woof woof woof!” Adrian’s frown deepened. Slowly, he turned to look at Butler Whitman. Butler Whitman hesitated before speaking. “Mr. Blackwell, Miss Nora’s method is a little unusual, but it clearly works.” “Before, no matter how we chased after Leo to feed him, he refused to eat. But this afternoon, Leo already ate two large bowls of pasta and even swore that he must beat Max.” Adrian coldly looked at Leo, who was eating without the slightest dignity. In the end, he let out a breath. “Fine. But people and dogs should still use separate tableware.” I immediately replied, “Please don’t worry, Mr. Blackwell. Your dog is very clean.It didn’t even touch Leo’s spoon.” Adrian froze. The next second, his face turned black, and he turned around and went into the house. Because Leo had eaten too much, I had no choice but to walk him and Max around the garden for half an hour. What I did not know was that Adrian was standing by the second-floor window, watching us. Seeing Leo laugh as he raced Max, the corners of Adrian’s tightly pressed lips lifted into a rare smile. Butler Whitman sighed again and again. “Miss Nora really is impressive. Leo usually doesn’t like eating, talking, or exercising. But in just one day, he has changed so much.” “Mr. Blackwell, this time, we may truly have found the right person.” When I went upstairs, Adrian was sitting on the sofa in the first-floor living room. His long legs were crossed, and his presence was outstanding. I removed the leash from Leo and was about to take him upstairs for a bath when Adrian suddenly stopped me. “Nora, let’s talk.” I handed Leo to Butler Whitman and sat properly across from Adrian. Adrian looked at me and asked, “You’re very good with children. Have you had a child before?” “No. I once helped look after my ex-husband’s sister’s child for two years.” I shook my head. Back then, my ex-husband’s family thought I earned too little and ordered me to quit my job. After I quit, they said I was freeloading at home, lazy and useless. So they simply fired his sister’s nanny and threw all the childcare work onto me. Adrian nodded. “Your file says you were divorced?” “Yes.” “Why?” I fell silent for a moment, then said calmly, “We had different values.” Adrian looked at me with deep eyes. “You saw the job posting yesterday. I’m looking for a mother for Leo.”

He continued, “This child has no sense of security. He only wants to stay at home. He refuses to go out, and he refuses to go to kindergarten.” “I’m very busy with work, so I want to find a patient woman to be his mother.” “I will sign a prenuptial agreement with you. There will also be a property notarization.” I nodded.“I understand.” Families like theirs all did this. Although my last marriage had been for love, the gap between our backgrounds was too large, so I had also signed a prenuptial agreement. So when that love finally wore down to nothing, I was left with nothing in the divorce. Even my wedding ring had been taken back. After thinking for a moment, I said seriously, “Actually, I’m already satisfied as long as I have a place to stay. We don’t need to legally register the marriage.” But Adrian insisted, “The marriage certificate is for Leo.” “I want to find him a long-term mother. Marriage is the strongest contract.” I obediently nodded. “Then we’ll do as you say.” Adrian added, “I will give you twenty thousand dollars a month for living expenses. It will be for your personal use. Don’t worry. That money will belong completely to you.” “Okay. Thank you.” He paused, then continued, “As for married life, I have no need for it for now. So you will still sleep on the second floor.” I immediately nodded. “Okay. I have no need for that either.” And just like that, on the third day after my divorce, I got married again. Just like my first marriage, there was no wedding. At dinner, Butler Whitman specially asked the kitchen to add a few extra dishes. Adrian handed me a diamond ring. I quickly waved my hand. “That’s not necessary.” Adrian said, “For Leo.” “Oh. All right. Sorry for the trouble.” That night, I had just lain down when Leo pushed open my door and stood there nervously. “What’s wrong?” I asked. He twisted his fingers and said awkwardly, “Nora, can you read me a bedtime story?” “I’ll ask my daddy to pay you more. Of course, if you don’t want to, forget it.” My heart softened instantly. I smiled at him. “Come here.” I lifted the blanket, and the little boy climbed in smoothly. That night, Leo fell asleep in my arms while listening to my bedtime story. Early the next morning, Adrian was shocked when he heard about it. Once again, approval showed between his brows. “Nora, thank you for your hard work. I’ll add another ten thousand dollars to your monthly allowance.” “Mr. Blackwell, that’s too much!” It really was too much.

After all, I had done far more in my last marriage. But when I got divorced, I was so broke I could not even afford a motel. During the day, I looked after my ex-husband’s sister’s child. At night, I cooked for my ex-husband. After satisfying his physical needs, I still had to get up in the middle of the night to clean the house. Even so, when we divorced, the Reed family said I had enjoyed three years of good life. “Mr. Blackwell, you’re giving me too much.” “I really like Leo. He may seem cold on the outside, but he is warm inside. He is very kind.” “I only read him a story. It was nothing difficult.” As I spoke, I suddenly felt something small and warm grab my right hand. I looked down and saw Leo holding my hand, looking up at me. His little face was serious, but his dark, grape-like eyes were watery. I did not expect him to be moved so easily. Adrian said, “The women who came before only cared about pleasing me. They ignored Leo’s feelings.” “The extra ten thousand dollars is decided.” Since I could not refuse, I could only thank him. From that day on, Leo became inseparable from me. Until one day, I needed to go to the hospital for a checkup and get my medicine. Butler Whitman had told me that Leo could not leave the estate gates, or he might easily have a stress reaction. So I discussed it with him and asked him to wait for me at home. I promised I would come back as soon as possible. But Leo held my hand and refused to let go. He said nothing. He only looked at me with those beautiful, gloomy eyes. I was about to keep coaxing him to stay home obediently. But he had already climbed into the car first. Butler Whitman asked anxiously, “ Leo, are you going to the hospital with Miss Nora?” Leo nodded silently. Butler Whitman instantly burst into tears. “God bless us! Leo is actually willing to leave the house!” In the end, Leo came with me to see the doctor. The doctor said my depression had improved recently and encouraged me to keep staying positive and relaxed. Before I left, he prescribed me a pile of medicine. After we came out of the consultation room, Leo asked worriedly, “Nora, are you sick? Does it hurt?” His face was full of worry. “If it hurts, I can give you candy.” As he spoke, he took a piece of chocolate from his pocket and placed it in my palm. “If you eat candy, you can forget the pain. Daddy told me that.” Looking at his innocent, concerned little face, my tears fell without warning. I had once told my ex-husband Ethan that I had depression. But he said I was pretending to be depressed for sympathy. He said I was deliberately annoying him and causing him trouble. Yet this cold-faced little boy was willing to take out his favorite candy to comfort me. I could not hold back anymore. I pulled Leo into my arms. He quietly curled up in my embrace and even patted my back with his chubby little hand. “Nora, I will eat properly. When I grow up, I can protect you.” I laughed through my tears. “Then you’d better grow up quickly.”

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I spent eighteen years raising a false cub, while my own cub was sold by my younger sister, and even my husband knew the truth from beginning to the end. At that day, I was cleaning my son’s room when I found a document he had brought home from school. Shifter Bureau — Pre‑Coronation Lineage Profile. I flipped to the section marked *Predicted Species Manifestation*. *Felidae – Panthera onca (Jaguar) dominant traits detected.* I stared at those words. I stopped breathing. I am a snow leopard. My father was a snow leopard. My mother was a jaguar. My husband Caelan was a Cheetah. There is no way our genes could produce a pure jaguar dominant trait. In our entire family, the only one with jaguar dominant blood is my younger sister. Mirabel. I took the file to Caelan. My polite, soft-spoken husband took one look at the page and exploded. “Our son is about to have his Coronation Shift. What else do you want, Sylvana? You’re always suspicious of everything. Are you losing your mind again?” “Caelan.” I kept my voice level. “School predictions aren’t always accurate. I want a formal bloodline test at the Shifter Medical Center.” “Absolutely not.” He slapped me twice. Hard. Then he slammed the door and locked it from the outside. I listened to the lock turn. Then I laughed. Eighteen years of marriage. Eighteen years of devotion. All of it, wasted on a man who’d lock his wife inside her own house. I picked up my phone. I called my husband’s biggest competitor. “I agree to transfer my patents to your company.” …… I hung up. A bitter cold settled in my chest. There shouldn’t be any problems with the school’s documents. The school tracked their half-shifts for ten years — ears, tails, eye color changes, partial markings — then sent the data to the Bureau. The Bureau used it to predict what species the kid would manifest at their Coronation Shift. Every Shifter kid got one before their eighteenth birthday. And Hayden was coming home next week for his. His first full transformation. Not a public ceremony—like a human signing for their first ID card — just official paperwork confirming you’d become an adult Shifter citizen. But now, what should i do? What a fool I had been. For years, big companies had tried to recruit me. I said no to all of them. For Caelan. For Hayden. I stayed in the shadows behind Vicksmore Group. That patent was worth a trillion. I’d never taken a cent of dividends. I sat on the couch until three in the morning. Caelan came home late. We sat in the dark. Neither of us spoke. We had good years once. When he first started the company, I stayed up with him through the nights, rewriting his pitch decks. When I got tired, I’d lean on his shoulder and doze. He used to say, “Sylvana, when the company is big, I’ll give you everything.” The company made it. Then he was never home. When he came back, he was too tired to talk. I said the house felt empty. He said, “You have Hayden.” I’d say I wanted to go to the Shifter Reserve to shift, get some air. He’d say, “Have my assistant take you. I’m swamped.” I stopped asking. I told myself this was what marriage looked like. Passion fading into companionship. Romance into family. Now I realized only one of us had made that shift. And he had turned into something else. …… At dawn, I went to the kitchen. Caelan was already there. He hadn’t cooked in a long time. “You’re up?” He looked back at me. Dark circles under his eyes. “I made breakfast.” Milk. Toast. Fried eggs, slightly burnt. He sat down. Neither of us mentioned yesterday. “Hayden comes home next week.” I paused with my cup halfway to my lips. “I know.” His voice dropped. “Sylvana, don’t overthink this. I promise I’ll spend more time with you and Hayden.” I looked up at him. I’d looked at this face for eighteen years. Watched it grow from boyish to lined. I used to know when he was lying. The slight twitch at the corner of his mouth. The way his eyes softened before he told the truth. Now I couldn’t read him at all. I looked down. “So when are we doing the bloodline test?” The warmth on his face froze. Then it disappeared. “You’re really doing this?” His fork clattered onto the plate. Then he looked at me with what seemed like disappointment and walked out of the house. I remembered when Hayden was small. Everyone said he looked like Caelan. No one ever said he looked like me. Not once. From age seven, his half-shifts had always shown pale fur and faint scattered spots. Classic Cheetah cub. Caelan was wealthy. He hired private doctors to run all of Hayden’s checkups. Every report came back the same. **Cheetah dominant.** And me? I wasn’t a geneticist. I was an engineer. So I’d believed it. For eighteen years.

I walked to the balcony and watched his car leave the garage. Then I went to his study. A divorce petition and an asset division agreement sat on the desk. I’d drafted them a year ago. Just in case. The patent that built Vexmoor Corporation — I owned a hundred percent of it. But Caelan had forgotten that. He’d started treating it like his own. My phone rang. My mother. “Sylvana, feeling better?” Her voice was light. “Your sister is coming back next week. Caelan knew you weren’t feeling well, so he booked her ticket himself that she could come back and help you. So He’s giving her a director’s position at Vexmoor.” A director’s position. I worked for the company for years. No title. No recognition. She comes back and gets a office. A few scattered memories surfaced. Caelan and Mirabel — when had they gotten so close? And she was coming back. Caelan arranged it. Mirabel. The name made my eye twitch. “It’s been so long since you two saw each other,” my mother went on. “We’re all coming over for dinner next week. One family together.” I kept my voice steady. “What time? I’ll get food ready.” “Don’t worry about it! We’ll bring the food. You just rest.” She paused. “Sylvana, listen to me. Be warm with Caelan tonight. Men have their pride.” I couldn’t listen anymore. I made a few sounds and hung up. Then I booked a rush appointment at the Shifter Medical Center. The Bureau-affiliated facility. The only one whose results were legally binding. No private doctors. No forged reports. I went into Hayden’s room and pulled hair from his comb. After I sent them to the center, I messaged a private investigator. Check Caelan’s financial records. Everything. Twelve hours later, the lab report came to my inbox. I sat in the study and stared at the file for a long time. Then I opened it. I skipped to the last page. “By official determination of the Shifter Medical Center, Ms. Sylvana is not the biological mother of Mr. Hayden. Tested subject shows Cheetah × Jaguar hybrid (F1) bloodline. Complete conflict with registered maternal snow leopard lineage.” In my gut, I’d known. But seeing it written down was something else. My hands started shaking and couldn’t breathe. I stood up and walked to the window. Eighteen years. I closed the file. I walked to the window. I tried to breathe. Outside, autumn had come to the city. The plane trees were turning gold. Far in the distance, the dome of the Shifter Bureau caught the afternoon light. I’d had a happy family once. And I thought they would be the two people I protected for the rest of my life. My phone buzzed. From the investigator. A few screenshots- Bank transfers. Caelan’s personal account had been sending fixed monthly transfers to an overseas account for at least ten years. The overseas account belonged to Mirabel. Not a small amount. But enough to keep one person living comfortably abroad. The last line of the report said: **Ms. Mirabel owns a property overseas. Purchased nineteen years ago. Paid in full. ** Nineteen years ago. The year I was told I was pregnant. The same year Mirabel went abroad. A dark thought formed in my mind. …… On the weekend, my parents arrived with bags of food. Mirabel came behind them. Cream suit. A gift box in her hand. “Sylvana.” She smiled and stepped forward to hug me. I turned slightly. She missed. Her smile froze for a second, then went back to normal. “Long time no see. I brought you a present.” The dining table filled up fast. My mother bustled around the kitchen. My father and Caelan settled into the living room, talking shop. Mirabel sat naturally in the chair next to Caelan. I frowned but said nothing. At dinner, Mirabel reached for a dish. A sapphire bracelet slid down her wrist. I stopped chewing. I had seen that bracelet at an auction two years ago. Stunning blue. Rare clarity. I wanted it, but the price was too high. Caelan had said, “If you like it, just get it. Money’s not a problem.” I said, “Too expensive. Forget it.” Later, I asked him about it. He said someone else had bought it. Now it was on Mirabel’s wrist. “Sylvana, what are you looking at?” Mirabel noticed my stare. She turned her wrist playfully. “Pretty, isn’t it? Caelan gave it to me. He said it suits me.” Caelan choked on his soup. He looked up at me. “A welcome gift. For Mirabel’s new job.” “Right,” my mother jumped in. “We’re family. What’s wrong with a gift between family? Sylvana, don’t be petty.” I didn’t say anything. I just looked at Caelan. He avoided my eyes. Mirabel smiled again, her voice soft. “Don’t misunderstand, Sylvana. I just think some things look better on the right person. Like this bracelet. Doesn’t it shine more on me than it did in that auction case?” She was watching Caelan when she said it. I knew that look. It was smug. Possession. The way a woman looks at a man she thinks belongs to her. After dinner, Mirabel volunteered to wash the dishes. Caelan stood up and said he would help. They walked into the kitchen together. I sat in the living room. I heard water running. Low voices. Mirabel’s soft laugh now and then. The Bonding Mark on the side of my neck itched. A faint heat. Like fingertips brushing it through the skin. I had felt this for eighteen years. Every time I mentioned it to Caelan, he smiled and said I was just sensitive. “Some shifters are more aware of their marks. Nothing serious.” “But I never felt this before…” “You haven’t shifted in forever. Your body’s out of practice.” He always said that. I always believed him. Now I knew the truth. The resonance wasn’t mine. It was hers. And every time I told him something was wrong, he called me sensitive. Every single time. My mother slid onto the sofa next to me. “Sylvana, look at how helpful she’s being. She came back to support Caelan. You could be a little warmer to her. You’re her sister.” My father weighed in too. “Caelan built that company from nothing. Having family on the inside is good for him. You’re the older sister. Have some grace.” I turned to look at my father. “Dad. Caelan is my husband. Mirabel is your other daughter. Don’t you think they’re too close?” His face darkened. “What are you implying?” “What if I told you,” I said quietly, “that Hayden might not be mine?” Both of them froze. My mother recovered first. She grabbed my wrist. “Sylvana! Don’t say things like that! Of course Hayden is your son. What’s gotten into you?” My father slammed his hand on the table. “Enough! You really do need to see a doctor. Caelan was right.” That was the last thing I needed to hear. Their reactions killed the last bit of hope I had. They only cared about Caelan. About what he gave them. Theynever knew that Vexmoor only existed because of me.

After everyone left that night, I turned to Caelan. “I’m going to stay at the old house for a few days. Sort through some things.” He didn’t ask questions. “Want me to drive you?” “No.” The old house is where my parents, Mirabel, and I used to live. My parents moved away after I got married, but many of our old belongings are still there. I went up to the attic and searched through somthing old. In a leather suitcase, I found things Mirabel had left behind. Diaries. Photos. A small metal box. I opened the box. Inside were letters. The top envelope was yellowed. But the handwriting was neat and careful. **To Caelan.** I pulled out the page inside. *Caelan, you came over again today to see my sister. The way you looked at her made my heart hurt. I know I shouldn’t feel this way. I’m sorry. I love you.* Another one. *Caelan, I heard you and my sister are getting married. She’s so lucky. If I had met you first — would things be different?* My hands started shaking. I kept reading. The last one was not a letter. It was a photo. Mirabel and Caelan standing under a cherry tree. Her head on his shoulder. Her hand on her belly. On the back, in her handwriting: The one not loved is the mistress. I held the photo. My fingers were ice cold. It had started so early. And I’d been like the fool, I had been too blind to see. So where was my real child? I pulled out my phone. I drew in one long breath. I texted the investigator. *Check the records at the Shifter Maternity Center. June 21, 3:00 to 5:00 PM. * *Also — check Mirabel’s full overseas history. Focus on any birth records.* Then my home security app sent an alert. Motion detected in living room. I frowned. Caelan should be at work. The housekeeper was off. I opened the live feed. The camera pointed at the sofa. Mirabel walked into the frame. Caelan sat there, tie loose around his neck. Mirabel was wearing a thin silk slip dress. She was sitting in Caelan’s lap. Her fingers were working slowly down the buttons of his shirt. Caelan wasn’t pushing her off. His hand slid up her back, into her hair, then down to her waist. I felt it. My bonding mark burned. Not imagined. Not oversensitive. Real. For eighteen years, he had told me I was imagining things. The Mark had been resonating the whole time. With another woman. I watched the screen until I couldn’t anymore. Then I turned it off. I ran to the bathroom and threw up. Nothing came out. Just acid burning all the way up my throat. My phone vibrated again. And again. And again. The investigator. “Ms. Shaw. I found it.” “Mirabel entered Country M in July. In August, she gave birth to a full‑term baby boy at a private shifter clinic in Country M. Registered species: Cheetah × Jaguar hybrid (F1).” “I also retrieved the records from the Shifter Maternity Center for your delivery date. One snow leopard female infants were born that afternoon. The hospital has since closed. Original records lost.” “But in november of that same year, when Mirabel returned to Country M, she had a baby girl with her. Approximately five months old.” “The girl’s registered name is Una. Underground Shift Market are illegal in Country M Chinatown. Minors will forced to shift for spectators. When they grow up, they are made to fight each other there for gambling purposes.” “Due to her rare species (snow leopard), Una has been forced to shift three to four times a week since she was eight. Her body shows extensive scarring, both from combat and from human-form beatings. ” “Mirabel collects most of her wages through an intermediary every month.” Photos came with the messages. A dimly lit corner of a back alley. A small silver leopard curled in a cage. Ribs showing. Fur dull. An unhealed scar over its left eye. Next photo. A close‑up of an arm. Bruises layered over older bruises. I stared at the screen. My daughter had been out there. Forced to shift. Forced to fight. Forced to be beaten. Forced to give her money to the woman who stole her. Hate flooded through me. I stood up. My vision went dark for a few seconds. I caught the wall. Dug my nails into my palm until the pain brought me back. I cried for a long time until my eyes were dry. Then I sent everything to my lawyer. Then I called AF Group. Vexmoor’s biggest competitor. “I’ll sign the patent transfer tomorrow. But I have one condition. Vicksmore Group must go bankrupt.” A low laugh came from the other end. A calm male voice. “Done.” I hung up and looked at all the evidence on my phone. Caelan. I made you. And I will break you.

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Eight years ago, my own brother sold me to a husk. Today, he came to drag me home. He drew his claws on the eight whelps beside me. He didn’t know every single one of them was born of a bloodline higher than his own. Eight years in exile. Valen finally finds me at the edge of the Shadow-Drake Marches. I’m a mess. Dirt on my face. Eight little ones crawling all over me. “Vey.” My brother — silver wolf — stops cold. His eyes go red. “Since when do you like kids? You used to say you’d die before you raised one.” I don’t answer. I chew the pine resin in my teeth. I drag two muddy little ones out of the bog by their scruffs. “Come on, guys. Let’s go home.” Then she steps out from behind him. Mira. Wet eyes. Trembling lip. “Vey.” Her voice breaks. “It was Valen. He drugged your wine. And Zelrun—” she squeezes Zelrun’s hand “he switched our carriages himself.” Zelrun — black dragon, Crown Heir of the Obsidian Throne — says nothing. Just stands there. Watching. Waiting for me to scream. Waiting for me to cry. I don’t move. Valen’s jaw tightens. “Look. The husk was ugly. Lowblood. Fine.” “But Mira says he was good to her.” “You suffered a little. Get over it.” A little. That’s what he calls it. Eight years ago Mira came home crying. Said I locked her out for three hours. I never did. Eight years of paying for a lie I never told. “The husk is dead now,” Mira says sweetly. “Come home with us, Vey.” “The whelps aren’t coming. They’re filthy. Lowblood strays.” “They’re the reason you’re so miserable. Just let the guards put them down.” I look up. Kill them? The girl up in the tree? Toregga’s daughter. White tiger. The Marshal’s only girl. The blonde glaring at Mira? Duke Orlando’s kid. Golden lion. The two in the grass? Twin gryphon princes. … “You’d be so much happier without them, Vey. Right?” Mira wipes her eyes. Smiles. Her guards step in. Swords up. They ring me in. I drag the farthest little one to my chest. A small girl, silver-haired, her wolf flashing behind her eyes when she clings to my collar. This pup can’t bleed. Margrave Igris waited five generations for one daughter. His men are insane. “What?” Zelrun’s voice drops. Black mist curls off his shoulders. “You really think you’re walking into my Keep with eight strays?” I clap a hand over the little lion girl’s mouth. This one’s got the dirtiest mouth of the lot. “Vey, don’t be embarrassed.” Mira tilts her head. “Zelrun doesn’t even care you’re used goods. He’ll still keep you. Out of sight. Nothing official.” She says it like she’s doing me a favor. “I’m not going.” Dead silence. Valen’s face turns to stone. “You can’t even look at Mira without copping an attitude? What is wrong with you?” I forgot a lot of things. I forgot the snowstorm. The night he walked her past me and never looked back. I forgot Mira grinding my bond-token under her heel. Zelrun watched from the eaves. Didn’t move. Eight years buries a girl. “Do it then, Vey.” Zelrun’s voice goes soft. “Or tell me — did you like it? Eight years widowing for that husk. Get a taste for it?” He looks at the little ones like they’re nothing. “They’re not mine. And you can’t touch them.” Crown Heir or not. Can’t he see? The little ones aren’t scared of him. The blue-haired boy is still freezing the mud at his feet. The white-haired girl is still chewing on my boot. The twin princes haven’t even looked up. Not one of them blinked at him. “You’d protect them so hard you’d deny your own blood?” Zelrun’s smile snaps. The black blade hisses out. Violet flame on the edge. He drives it at the smallest one. Rion. The little blue-haired boy. I lunge— Valen’s hand cracks across my face. Copper in my mouth. “I told myself you were forced,” he snarls. “Now I see it. You let him mount you. You shamed our whole house.” Every head snaps up. I swallow blood. Voice flat. “Zelrun. Look at the boy you just cut. He’s your cousin. Your uncle’s kid.” Rion wasn’t fast enough. The blade caught his arm. Blood runs. He throws himself into my chest. Shaking. I unhook the pendant at his throat. Hold it up. A black dragon scale. Edged in gold-red blood. Only the direct line of the Obsidian Throne wears one. It hums in my fingers. Dragon-song. Mira’s mouth opens. Closes. Zelrun raises the blade again. “My uncle doesn’t have a kid.” “You don’t even know your own family.” The little lion girl rips free of my hand. She tears a medallion from her tunic. Gold. Thumb-sized. A roaring lion on it. The Blood-Sigil of the Golden Pride. One token. Commands an army. She shoves it at him. “My dad is Duke Orlando. Wanna kill someone? Try me.” Mira slaps it out of her hand. It hits the dirt. She laughs. “And these — you coached them, Vey? Cute.”

I tear a strip of cloth and press it to Rion’s arm. “Mira. You just hurt royal blood. That’s a death sentence.” Valen scoffs. “Royal blood? Vey, come on. Lay off.” Mira lifts her chin. She loops her arm through Zelrun’s, beaming. I look straight at Zelrun. Hard. He says, flat: “Vey. Since when do you lie?” He almost believed me. Mira bites her lip. Switches faces — worried, hurt. “She’s making the little ones pretend to be royal blood, Zel. If your father hears about it, our whole house is finished.” “She still hates me.” Valen’s jaw locks. Zelrun’s brow tightens. “You’re safe,” Zelrun says. He pulls her in. Kisses her forehead. Valen loses it. “Eight years and you still haven’t learned, Vey? What is wrong with you?” “Mira is the real one. You’re the fake. What gives you the right to come at her?” “What gives you the right to hate her?” The words land hard. My hands are freezing. Then something warm closes over them. “You had it really bad out here, didn’t you?” The little lion girl. Looking up at me. “Everyone in the border towns talks about you. They all know.” I force a smile down at her. I shove the rest away. “Fifteen more minutes,” I say. “Then you’ll see.” Fifteen minutes. That’s when the pickups come. Same time every day. The hour I’d usually be walking home, light on my feet. “How much longer are you stalling?” Valen’s past furious now. Mira jumps in. “Valen, wait.” “It’s fine. We have room for eight whelps.” “If she wants them so bad — let her keep them.” Zelrun’s mouth tightens. He doesn’t like it. But he nods. Soft eyes for her. “Whatever you want, Mira.” Valen drops it too. I tighten my grip on Rion. My knuckles go white. “We’ll call them strays,” Mira says sweetly. “Orphans. Whatever.” “But Vey’s still coming home with us. She’s coming to the Keep.” “She can’t be tied to them anymore. Not like before.” She walks over to me. Slow. Her eyes — full of it. “And just so Vey doesn’t forget her place — every whelp she keeps, I cut her once. Same number. Fair?” The second she says it, every little one is at my side. “You guys are gross.” The gryphon prince. Cael. Gold sparks down his arms. “My dad is the King of the Gryphons. He likes Vey. A lot.” “You treat her like this? Wait till I tell him.” “She’s coming home with me. She doesn’t have to take this.” His twin shoves forward. Ren. “My mom — Vey was teaching her harp! You touch Vey, I swear to God—” The little tiger girl. Thorn. Fangs out. “You’re cowards. ” “You touch her, you’re dead. Try it.” A heartbeat later — the guards are on them. Hands clamped over mouths. Knees forced into the dirt. Gagged. Pinned. Little ones. But the fifteen minutes are up. “Mistress Veyn!” A rider tears into the clearing. Gray wolf — heavy build, scars across his jaw. Reins yanked tight. He swings off. Eyes blazing. It’s Brann. Captain of the border garrison. The man who pulled me out of the snow eight years ago. “Stop! Who the hell are you people?” I look past him. Nobody behind him. My stomach drops. “You came alone?” Brann keeps his voice low. “Border riots. Big mob. Margrave Igris took the rest of the unit out to put it down. He’s not back yet.” Border riots. So whoever the Gryphon King sent for his sons — they aren’t getting through either. “Drop the act.” Zelrun’s voice. Something raw in it now. “Vey. The husk’s whelps. You love them that much? You’d really die for them?”

The smile freezes on Mira’s face. She grips Zelrun’s hand. Tight. He doesn’t move. She shoots me a glare. Then her hand flies to her mouth. Eyes wide. “Wait— you?” She’s staring at Brann. Voice trembling. “You’re— you’re the husk! I thought you were dead! No wonder she wouldn’t come with us!” She’s lying through her teeth. Brann isn’t the husk. Brann is the man who saved me from the husk. Eight years ago. Snow up to my knees. Blood running down my hands. But Mira just put his face on the dead man. And Zelrun believes her. His eyes go dark. Cold. Wrong. “Brann. Get out of here. Go find Margrave Igris. Or Marshal Toregga. Whichever’s closer. Bring them.” Both of them bear the Dragon King’s Mark. His own father carved it into their skin. Zelrun would know it on sight. Brann nods. Spins for his horse. Then Zelrun snaps. Before anyone can blink, he’s half-shifting. Black scales surge up his arms. Drake claws unsheathe. He flashes forward — knocks Brann off his horse with one swipe. Claws aimed straight at his heart. “Zelrun, stop! He’s pack! He saved me!” My chest squeezes. I’m screaming. He doesn’t hear me. Brann rolls. Half-shifts mid-air. Gray wolf form bursting out of his shoulders. He twists past the killing strike. But he’s outnumbered. Mira’s guards close in. They half-shift too. Claws and teeth. They tear into him. Blood sprays across my face. I freeze. Mouth open. My head’s empty. “Don’t hurt him— please— he saved my life—” Nobody listens. They pull back. Let the holes pour blood. Brann drops to one knee. Holding himself up. One of Mira’s guards stomps on his neck. Forces his head into the dirt. Zelrun lets his claws fade. Looks at him like he’s an insect. “What officer? He drew on the Crown Heir. He’s an assassin.” Mira’s smile gets bigger. Beside me, long curved claws slide out of one of her guard’s hands. Cold light running down them. “So, Vey. The eight little ones. You saving them or not?” “I save them.” Eight cuts won’t kill me. Eight years. Their parents kept me alive. I owe them. The first rake goes in. Then the second. Third. Fourth. The smell of blood thickens. I can’t breathe through it. Valen rips the guard back. His own claws come out. Wolf claws. Silver fur up to his elbow. “Vey! You still want to save them?!” A small, broken sob behind me. One of them. I’m soaked in cold sweat. My body keeps jerking from the pain. “I save them. I’m not going back to the Keep.” Valen explodes. Four more rakes. Hard. Vicious. “You don’t get to decide. You still owe Mira. You still owe the house. Not even close to paid.” I swallow the scream. Hands on the dirt. I push myself up. Slowly. Spine straight. Mira watches me struggle to breathe. She looks thrilled. “Valen— look at her. There’s so much blood. She — she’s not pregnant, is she? Coming home pregnant — we can’t hide that. I shouldn’t have pushed her so hard.” I look down. Dazed. It’s Rion’s blood. From his arm. Pooling at my feet. Zelrun’s head snaps around. His voice grinds through his teeth. “Get rid of it.” The guards move. They yank my arms back. Force my stomach forward. Expose it. A boot drives into me. Hard. I choke out a sound. My insides feel like they’ve moved. I can’t speak. Not a word. “You’re lying!” Brann’s mouth is full of blood. He’s still here. Still fighting. “She’s never even been with a man! Where would a kid come from?!” Mira sets her hand on the little unicorn girl’s neck. Her fingers curl. Slowly tightening. “I’m lying?” Mira watches Brann’s face. Watches him panic. She sighs. “If they aren’t her kids, why do you care so much?”

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My aunt called while I was in the middle of conditioning drills on base. “The trust addendum—you have to meet Brecken Keller. If you don’t, your share defaults next year.” “Just go through the motions. I already booked your flight.” The day I left, the base security officer reminded me my federal clearance required full encryption on all civilian travel records. I arrived exactly on time. I was checking in at the priority boarding lane when someone yanked me backward by the shoulder. A handful of hundred-dollar bills landed on the counter. She didn’t even look at me. She just lifted her chin at the agent. “Tell her I’m taking this spot. She gets the cash. She gets lost.” I wasn’t angry. I was just genuinely baffled. I looked her up and down, slow. “What, you strapped with a bomb? Just saved the planet? No? Then get back where you belong. The line.” She laughed in my face. “On what grounds? I work for Mr. Keller. His time is worth more than you’ll earn in your entire life.” “Forget a boarding lane. The Kellers could take the whole runway if they wanted it.” I stood there for a second. Then I pulled out my phone and dialed the number my aunt gave me for Brecken Keller. “I heard the Keller family can move heaven and earth. That true?” The call connected. I got exactly one sentence out. A robotic voice came through the speaker. “Hello, I am currently unavailable to take your call.” I did not see that coming. “Oh, you’re putting on a show now? Let me see who you called—” The woman in front of me snatched my phone the second she heard the recording. She looked at the screen. Her laugh got louder. “Voicemail? God, you’re a terrible liar.” “You can’t even get Mr. Keller’s private number to ring. Who do you think you’re talking to?” She tossed my phone back at my chest, still grinning, and shoved her boarding pass at the trembling gate agent. “Check me in now. If you hold up Mr. Keller’s business, your entire ground crew is out of a job tomorrow.” The agent’s hands were shaking. She looked at me. She looked at Kinsley. Her voice nearly cracked. “Ms. Kinsley, this passenger’s priority access is registered with the FAA. We can’t just—” “Can’t?” Kinsley slammed her palm against the counter. “You know how much Keller Group pours into your airline every year?” “You can’t handle one simple thing? Want me to call your regional manager right now?” I watched this woman bully a staff member over her own convenience. My patience snapped. I grabbed her finger before she could jab it in the agent’s face. “Friend. You know what kind of people use this lane? You’re the first person stupid enough to steal my spot.” “Oh, honey!” She doubled over, clutching her stomach, cackling. “Cargo pants and you think you’re military. Too much fast food rots the brain. Get a new diet.” “And I’m not your friend. I’m Mr. Keller’s personal secretary. My circle does not include people who walk around in tactical pants like a costume.” I nearly laughed out loud. All this drama. I thought she was someone important. She’s a secretary. A crowd was gathering now. Murmurs started drifting toward me. “Is she insane? Kinsley is Keller’s golden girl.” “Last month a TSA agent flagged her bag for inspection. Got transferred to graveyard shift the next day.” So she’s a repeat offender. Uses her boss’s name like a weapon. The irony was almost funny. I bled for my clearance. Earned the highest trust this country gives. And now some secretary waving her boss’s name around wants to step on me. I let out a cold breath and hit back. “If the Kellers are really as powerful as you say, how come they never taught you basic manners?” Kinsley’s face went purple. “Who are you calling an errand girl? I’ll show you manners!” She swung her bag at my head. I sidestepped. Caught her wrist. Twisted. The crack of joints echoed with her scream. Kinsley, who’d been strutting a second ago, was now hopping in place, howling. “Let go! God, stop!” “Hurts now?” I leaned in close to her twisted face. “Your mouth was working fine a second ago.” She was still gritting her teeth in pain. But I’d already pulled my strength way back. If I actually wanted to hurt her, she wouldn’t have time to scream. The crowd was getting bigger. A few uniformed airport security guards started jogging toward us. Kinsley used the distraction to yank herself free. She clutched her wrist, breathing hard. “Keep pretending. When I tell Mr. Keller about this, you’ll see what happens.” I crossed my arms and smiled. “Sure. I’ll wait.”

Behind the security guards came the terminal manager on duty. A middle-aged man with slicked-back hair and a suit jacket straining over his gut. The second he spotted Kinsley, his face shifted into professional bootlicking mode. “Ms. Kinsley! What happened? Who was stupid enough to bother you?” He jogged over, bobbing his head, fawning. He ignored me completely. Great. Another man who chooses sides based on the price tag. Kinsley, basking in the attention, found her footing again. She shook out her wrist and shot me a sideways glance. “Gary. Is your airline letting just anyone use the priority lane now? This woman wouldn’t move. Then she put her hands on me.” Gary dropped the fawning face instantly. He spun toward me. “Ma’am. Priority lanes are for people of status. A regular passenger like you needs to get in the back. Stop causing problems.” I narrowed my eyes. “How do you know I’m not someone important? I suggest you verify with headquarters before you say another word.” “Verify?” Gary snorted. His eyes crawled over my outfit. “I’ve been here for years. I know what matters when I see it. That outfit? You probably don’t make enough in a month to cover her hair appointment.” “Ms. Kinsley is a Keller Group executive. If you delay her schedule, can you afford the consequences?” I let out a short laugh. “So money and power mean you can steal someone’s spot? That’s your airline’s policy?” “Enough. Stop making a scene.” Gary rolled his eyes and waved his hand like he was shooing a fly. “Ms. Kinsley is offering to pay for your lane. That’s her being generous. Take the money and walk away. Don’t embarrass yourself.” Kinsley waved the cash in front of me, smug. “You heard him. The manager agrees. Stop fighting it. Take the money. Keep what’s left of your dignity.” The two of them, playing off each other. A perfect pair. I looked at their faces and let out a cold laugh. “So this is your airline’s idea of customer service. I’m truly impressed.” “Customer service? Please.” Kinsley didn’t wait for Gary to answer. She stepped forward and jabbed her finger into my shoulder with every word. “Listen closely. Keller people get top priority everywhere. And when you grabbed me, my watch hit the counter. Limited edition. Fifty thousand dollars in damage. I know you can’t pay. But Mr. Keller’s legal team will teach you what consequences mean.” Well. That’s new. No one’s ever tried to shake me down before. I smiled and nodded. Her expression flickered with confusion. “Fine. But you’d better think hard about whether you can hold onto that money.” Kinsley’s face darkened. She slammed her hand on the counter. “Are you threatening me?” Gary rushed to get between us. But he was clearly aiming his words at me. “Ma’am. I suggest you apologize and end this. Offending Ms. Kinsley means offending Mr. Keller. You won’t have a place left on the East Coast.” I raised an eyebrow. “Oh? I’d like to see what the Kellers can do to me.” That was the last straw. Kinsley snapped. She lunged up, arm swinging at my face. A cold male voice cut through the noise. “Kinsley. Stop.”

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Jace Sterling was taken by his worst enemy. I went alone to trade myself for him. After they’d had their fun, they dumped me down a hillside. From a roadside bar, I heard howls of laughter. “Oh my God, she fell for it again! This is too good!” Through a crack in the window, I saw my boyfriend and his so-called enemy. Arms draped over each other. No trace of a feud. “Ninety-seven times. Three more and we hit an even hundred. Then we stop.” “She had it coming. She refused to testify for Tessa. Just watched her get expelled. Her whole future, destroyed. Tessa is Jace’s baby sister. Anyone who hurts her, Jace makes them wish they were dead. That’s why he faked the whole relationship. Too bad. No more games now.” I bit down on my lip. I refused to let myself sob. So my desperate, all-in love was just their entertainment. *** The hand I’d raised to push the door froze in mid-air. Voices still drifted out. Taunting. Mixed with recordings of my own screams. “Look at her now. Not a single patch of good skin left except her face. All those expensive creams she slathered on every day. Worthless. We still messed her up.” “Good thing Jace said to keep her face. He didn’t want to throw up looking at her. Otherwise that would be gone too.” “Hey, you think if she found out this ‘worst enemy’ is actually Jace’s real cousin, she’d lose her mind? What if next time we try something even wilder, like—” “Enough.” A cold voice cut them off. I heard a lighter click. “Don’t do anything too disgusting. She’s still my girlfriend, at least on paper. Did any of you think about how I’d feel?” “Alright, alright, my bad, Jace. Relax. We’ll keep it tame.” No groveling apology. Just lazy laughter and a few half-hearted agreements. I bit my lip until I tasted blood. Before they spotted me, I dragged myself toward the road. Everyone who saw me looked horrified. A little girl screamed. The California sun beat down. Vicious. I used to love this kind of heat. I remembered feeling it on the track for the first time. Right before I met him. Now that sunlight hit every bruise like a spotlight. It hurt. Jace and I met on an afternoon exactly like this. I was an intern for the racing team. Logging telemetry data. A black Ford Mustang stopped in front of me. The door opened. A tall man pulled off his helmet. He glanced at my name tag and grinned. “New here?” I nodded. Nervous. “Yeah.” He tucked his helmet under his arm. His eyes flicked to the water bottle in my hand. “I’m dying of thirst. Can I have a sip?” I blinked. Nodded without thinking. He thanked me. Handed me his helmet. Unscrewed the cap and drank. I watched a bead of water slide down his throat. Something twisted in my stomach. I suddenly found my clipboard fascinating. Stared at it. Didn’t dare look up. The helmet was gone from my arms. He smiled and thanked me again. Someone called him from across the track. He turned to leave. Then looked back. “What’s your name?” “Ryan.” His grin widened. “Cool name.” He walked away fast. I heard my own heart pounding. Back then, I thought it was sweet. I had no idea I’d already walked into a trap custom-built for me. Thump. Thump. Thump. When I opened my eyes again, the racetrack was gone. Nothing but an endless stretch of highway. Three days without food or water. My already unsteady heart finally gave out. I clutched my chest. Stumbled. Fell. My vision went dark. Before I blacked out completely, a sharp voice cut through, moving closer.

When my eyes fluttered open, I met Jace’s worried gaze. “Ryan! You’re awake!” “God, Ryan. I’m sorry. I should have come sooner. This is all my fault.” “Trust me. I won’t let that bastard get away with this.” I should have given him a round of applause for that performance. I slowly pulled my hand from his. Shook my head. My voice was barely a whisper. “It’s fine.” He saw my mood was off. He asked carefully. “Ryan, why were you walking so far down the highway all alone? There was a bar on the side of the road. Why didn’t you go in for help?” I kept my voice flat. “Was there? I didn’t see it. There was blood all over my face. I could barely see the road.” Jace exhaled quietly. He grabbed a glass of warm water and a few pills from the side table. “Here. The doctor said you need to take these as soon as you wake up.” He eased me up from the bed. Fed me gently. “How are you feeling? Does anything hurt?” I looked down at myself wrapped in bandages. Shook my head. A wave of exhaustion hit me. “I just want to sleep again.” Jace stroked my hair. Lowered me back down. “Okay. Call me if you need anything.” Exhaustion pulled me under. Before my eyes closed, I saw Jace walk out. Click. He seemed to have locked the door from the outside. I woke up burning. The room spun. My whole body was on fire. I stumbled out of bed. Ripped the IV needle out of my hand on instinct. Rushed toward the bathroom. I couldn’t open the door. I ran to the main door. Locked. In a daze, I stripped off my clothes piece by piece, desperate to ease the heat. It was so unbearable. Tears streamed down my face. “Please… someone help me… I can’t take this…” Howls of laughter erupted outside. “Jace! She actually took everything off!” “Oh my God, look at her. Crawling around on the floor like some junkie on an overdose. I’m recording this for Tessa.” I clenched my fists. My body trembled. My heart felt like it had been dropped into ice water. I could barely breathe. Even the pills they fed me were part of their revenge. I curled up in the corner. My ears locked onto the sounds outside the door. Jace’s leather shoes clicked down the hallway. The group’s laughter and chatter faded with him. “Tessa just texted. She wants to go live. Jace, next time let’s do a real-time feed for her?” Jace laughed and kicked the guy. “Mess around all you want. But if someone actually dies, you gonna do my prison time for me?” My nails dug into my palms. The bandages I’d torn at pulled against raw wounds. Sweat and pain stung. The nurse call button cord had been cut. I dragged my shaking legs to the window. Second floor. The glass showed my reflection. Hair plastered to a bruised forehead. Skin flushed a terrifying red. What they gave me wasn’t medicine. It was the kind of stuff they use at frat parties to get girls out of their minds. I grabbed the metal IV stand. Slammed it into the window. The glass cracked. No alarm. This old hospital still had single-pane windows, not safety glass. I swung again. Twice more. It shattered. Shards sliced my arm. Blood ran down my wrist. “What the fuck! That crazy bitch is going to jump!” Chaos erupted outside the door. Cold wind hit me. I stepped onto the windowsill, barefoot. Jace kicked the door open. His face went pale. “Ryan!” I turned. Met all their stunned stares.

Jace rushed at me. He threw his jacket over my head. Shut out my vision. Pulled me off the windowsill and into his arms. I struggled. A whimper kept spilling out. “Let go… I’m so hot… Jace, I can’t take it!” He shoved me under the blankets. Wrapped me tight. His voice dropped. Gentle. Coaxing. “Don’t be scared, Ryan. Just hold on.” Several footsteps rushed toward me. Doctors surrounded me. Asked what happened. Jace paused for half a second. Then his voice came out cold as a scalpel. “Someone laced her medication.” I heard a doctor suck in a sharp breath. He barked orders for a sedative. In the haze, someone pulled my arm out from under the blanket. A needle went in. The fire inside me slowly died. I stopped fighting. They wheeled me off for a full workup. The results were bad. The doctor said the accidental dose did significant damage to my nervous system. Without proper recovery, I could face cognitive impairment down the line. The room fell dead silent. The air itself felt frozen. Jace stood there. The person truly responsible. Rigid. Disbelieving. I watched him quietly. “Jace, who did you piss off so badly they’d do this to me?” He lowered his head. Avoided my eyes. Grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from my forehead. “I’m sorry…” I turned away from his touch. Silent refusal. Silent blame. Maybe he actually felt guilty. A moment later, he dragged a doctor in front of me by the collar. The man’s face was pure terror. His eyes darted between us. “Wh-what’s going on?” Jace didn’t even look at me. His voice was surgical steel. “He told me he was giving you vitamin pills.” “I didn’t know he got his hands on that kind of substance.” He pulled out his phone. Dialed. “Dad. I need the legal team. Something happened. Someone spiked her medication. I want to press charges. Attempted murder. Grievous bodily harm.” The man’s face drained of all color. Watching him realize his life was over before Jace even lifted a finger. A different kind of cruelty. My body shook. I couldn’t stop it. This was the first time I’d seen Jace handle something like this. So cold. So efficient. He hung up. Wiped his hands clean with the towel. Turned to me. “This idiot screwed up. It won’t happen again.” “From now on, I’ll handle everything for you personally.” He wasn’t serving justice for Ryan. He was cutting off a liability. A fool who messed up and could bring trouble to the Sterling name. I nodded numbly. I never thought he’d actually sacrifice one of his so-called brothers. I only found out after we started dating. He wasn’t just a pro racer. He was the heir to Sterling Properties. All the people around him were friends from the racing scene. Track days. Mod shops. This hospital was one of his family’s holdings. Silence swallowed the room. Jace’s phone rang. The pain in his expression smoothed out the second he saw the caller ID. He answered. Tessa Grant’s sugary voice spilled through the speaker. “Where are you? I miss you so much.” His face changed. Instantly.

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