I wanted to save my mother. I did save my mother. Ryker will get her somewhere safe. She’ll survive. That’s all that matters.
The fight drains out of me like water through a sieve. I’ve been running for so long. Running from my mother’s coldness, from the pack’s expectations, from Darius’s lies, from the truth of what I am. I’m so tired of running.
My eyes drift closed despite the guard’s presence in the corner. Exhaustion settles into every part of me until I can barely remember what it once felt like not to be tired.
Life has dealt me a hand with which I can’t win. I’ve tried. I’ve fought and clawed and struggled. But some games you can’t finesse. Some things are just fate.
And my fate is to die in two days, unloved and unmourned by the one person whose opinion matters more than anyone else’s.
Maybe this is what acceptance feels like. Maybe this is peace.
My wolf whimpers weakly in the back of my mind. She’s scared. She doesn’t understand why I’ve stopped fighting. But I don’t have the energy to explain it to her. I don’t have the energy for anything anymore.
The torch in the corridor flickers. The shadows dance across the cell floor, reaching toward me like dark fingers.
I think about Darius one last time. The way he used to look at me, his eyes burning and hungry.
Footsteps in the distance. Angry voices. They’re coming back, probably with worse methods to make me talk.
But I’ve already left this place. Gone somewhere deepinside myself.
I let the darkness take me. Not death. Not yet. Just sleep. Blissful, empty sleep, where I don’t have to think about fated mates or hybrid blood or the boy I love who would never love me back.
My last conscious thought is that at least it will be over soon. No more fighting. No more pretending. No more hoping for something that was never meant to be mine.
Just silence.
Just peace.
Just the end.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Violet
The steps echo down the corridor, heavy and deliberate. I lift my head from where it rests against the cold, stone wall, my body bracing automatically. Every instinct urges me to run, but the chains hold me in place.
My stepfather appears in the open cell doorway.
His expression is controlled, but rage simmers beneath the surface. I can see it in the tight line of his jaw, the way his hands flex at his sides.
“Where is she?”
I don’t answer. Don’t give him the satisfaction.
He steps closer, and the torchlight catches the gold in his eyes. Wolf eyes. Predator eyes. “Where did your mother go, Violet?”
My lips press together. Blood is crusted at the corner of my mouth from the last beating, and I taste copper when I swallow.
“I asked you a question.” His voice drops lower, more dangerous. “Who helped her escape?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words grate my raw throat.
His hand shoots out, gripping my jaw so hard, I think vaguely thatit might break. “Don’t lie to me. Someone broke her out of this cell. Someone with access to keys. Someone who knew the timing of the guard rotation.” His fingers dig even deeper. “Tell me who it was.”
I meet his gaze, holding it even though everything in me wants to look away. “Even if I knew, why would I tell you?”
“Because I can make your death quick”—he releases me and straightens—“or I can make it last for days. Your choice.”
