The knife lands just out of arm’s reach. I stare at it, my wrists held tight to the wall by the chains.
“We’ll find another way to help,” Sienna tells me. “Without being seen. We’re not giving up on you.”
“Don’t come back,” I whisper. “It’s not safe.”
But they’re already moving, slipping back into the shadows of the corridor. Their footsteps fade quickly, and then I’m alone again.
Except, I’m not completely alone. There’s a pen knife on the floor.
I stretch my leg out, ignoring the blinding pain. The chains on my wrists bite deeper as I shift positions, but my foot reaches the blade. I nudge it closer. A little more. Almost there.
My fingers close around the handle.
Relief floods through me, followed immediately by despair. What am I supposed to do with this? The chains are spelled. The lock is reinforced; Ryker even had trouble with the actual key.
But I have to try.
My wolf stirs inside me, pushing against the magical barriers that hold her. She’s weak, so weak, but she’s fighting.
Stay with me, I tell her. We’re not done yet.
I twist my wrist, trying to angle the knife toward the keyhole. The blade is small, meant for easy tasks, not breaking enchanted restraints. But maybe if I can just—
The knife snaps. Breaks clean off, clattering to the stone floor.
“No.” The word comes out as a sob. “No, no, no.”
I’m left holding the handle, useless and broken, while the blade lies just out of reach.
My head falls back against the wall. Tears pour down my cheeks unchecked.
I tried. I tried, and I failed.
Just like with everything else.
The execution is in two days, according to Ryker. Two days until they drag me out in front of everyone and make an example of me.
I wonder what Darius will think when he hears. Will he feel relieved? Vindicated? Will he stand in the crowd and watch with those cold eyes, satisfied that another hybrid is being eliminated?
The thought makes me want to scream, but I don’t have the energy anymore.
I think of Cinnamon. Her soft fur. Her excited yips when I come home. Emma will take care of her. Emma loves that puppy almost as much as I do.
The tears come faster now. I don’t try to stop them.
Meals in my apartment. Walks with Cinnamon. Laughing with Anne and Sienna over nothing at all.
Such small things. But they were mine.
Darius’s hands on my skin. His mouth on mine. The way he looked at me in those stolen moments when he thought no one was watching.
All lies. All fantasy. All wishful thinking from a girl who should have known better.
He would have killed me eventually. The moment he found out what I was, he would have done his duty. Would have stood there and watched me die because that’s what good alphas do. They protect their pack from threats.
And I’m a threat. Always have been, always will be.
My chest caves in on itself. My ribs contract around a heart that won’t stop wanting him, won’t stop wishing things could be different.
