All the glimpses of a future we’ll never get to have. It hurts more than I ever thought was possible.
Maybe there’s another explanation.
No. Resolution fills my heart and I shake my head at myself. There is no excuse for this. They haven’t even spoken to me about it.You haven’t given them the chance, a voice whispers in my head, but I brush it off.
I feel dazed, and I have to think clearly.
I don’t have time to torture myself with what-ifs, and I can’t ask them outright. If I do and they are planning to sedate me, it’ll tip them off that I know.
I don’t have any options.
I sit down on the floor, my head in my hands. Panic and blind, sheer terror fills me, my thoughts clouding over. The pain in my chest feels like I’m going to tear down the middle, white-hot agony splintering as I think of the four men downstairs. I thought I’d found something special. Something amazing.
A third option drifts into my mind. I try to push it away, but it grows, becoming more insistent until it’s a beating drum pounding against my temples.
I won’t be their toy. I can’t. Pain lances through me at the thought, of lying there listlessly while they take what they need, fill me and leave me. My hands drop to my stomach and I think of the consequences of artificial heats. A child. They’d take my child away from me. And then I’ll be given to another pack. And then another. Until I’m dried up. Or dead.
I won’t let it happen.
There’s one option in the back of my mind. The final choice I’ll ever have.
I sit there for hours, staring at the floor, waiting for the noises that signal the pack going to bed, praying that tonight isn’t the night they’re planning on.
Ace and Gabe talk in the distance, a hint of slightly raised voices filtering through my door as they head into their rooms for the night. Then Devlin. His door opens and closes quietly, and I wonder vacantly if he’ll try to come in tonight. Rogue is the only one left, and he stays up late.
A small jolt of surprise fills me when I hear his steady footsteps only a few minutes later. They pause outside my door, and I freeze, holding my breath.
He knocks lightly. “Harper?” his voice is quiet, worried. I stay still and silent on the floor, praying that he doesn’t come in, that he thinks I’m sleeping. He stays outside my room for a few minutes more, slowly moving away. I hear his door close.
Wait.The minutes tick away as I stare at the clock next to my bed. The blankets call to me, their scents drifting over in comfort and temptation I desperately want.Pretty lies and false promises. I force myself to stay where I am for another hour before I ease myself up.
Slipping out of my door, I leave it open a crack, not wanting any of them to come and investigate the noise of it closing. I drift through the house, my bare feet tiptoeing silently until I reach the kitchen area. My hand trails over the knives softly, but it’s not what I have in mind. My gaze snags on the door to the walk-in freezer, and a soft breath draws from my lungs.
That’s it. I want to feel absolutely nothing.Numb.Just like I did in the ice baths.
Pushing the door open, I cringe slightly at the squeak, pausing for a minute as cold air sweeps over me. No footsteps sound overhead, so I slip inside, pulling the door closed behind me.
The ice claws at my veins as I pad over to the corner, my breaths puffing out in front of me like little clouds. My bare feet burn as I sink down, hiding from the view of anyone looking in. The cold is soothing, though. Drawing my knees up and hugging them tightly, I sit and wait.
This pain is familiar, more familiar than the rip in my soul.
Soon, I won’t feel the cold at all. I won’t feel the pain of their betrayal in my chest. I won’t feel anything. I’ll just… drift away. Like I was never really here in the first place. Just like what happened with my family.
Like I was never a part of the Winter pack.
ChapterThirty-Two
Rogue
I’m working at my desk when a light knock interrupts me. Gabe enters without waiting and plunks a mug of coffee in front of me.
“Is Harper down yet?” We were all worried when she told us she was unwell last night. Gabe immediately started panicking after their afternoon together.
His hair is rumpled and dark circles sit under his eyes, indicating that he hasn’t slept well. I can sympathize. I feel on edge this morning and I can’t pinpoint the reason why. There’s an uncomfortable weight in my chest.
He shakes his head, looking despondent. “No. She didn’t touch the tray I took up last night, either. I think she’s still asleep.”
I sit back in my chair, wondering if I should go and check on her. I don’t want to disturb her, though. “Let’s give it another hour or so,” I tell him. “I’ll go and check on her then.”
