I want to hate him. I should hate him.
But I can’t.
Foolish. So incredibly foolish.
But my heart doesn’t care about logic. It just keeps beating, keeps aching, keeps wanting what it can never have.
My wolf howls inside me, a sound of pure misery that echoes through my consciousness. She knows. Understands. This is the end.
I’m sorry, I tell her silently. I’m so sorry I couldn’t save us.
She doesn’t respond. Just keeps howling, mourning what we’re about to lose.
Everything.
This is how it ends.
And all I can think about is him.
Always him.
Even now. Even at the end.
Idiotic, hopeless heart.
The cell doorcrashes open.
I jerk awake, my body screaming in protest. How long was I asleep? Minutes? Hours? Time has lost all meaning in this dark, dank place.
“Get up.” The guard’s voice is flat, emotionless.
I don’t move fast enough. Rough hands grab my arms, yanking me to my feet. My legs buckle, and I would collapse if these men weren’t holding me up.
“She can barely stand,” one of them mutters.
“Doesn’t matter. Alpha’s orders.”
They unlock the chains from the wall but replace them with heavier ones, iron links that restrict my wrists and ankles. The weight pulls at my already damaged skin.
“Move.”
I take a stumbling step forward. My shin throbs despite how much it has healed. Every movement sends agony through my body, but I force myself to walk. To keep my head up even as they drag me down the corridor.
The stone walls give way to stairs. Up and up, my legs shaking with the effort. Sunlight filters down from above, bright and blinding after so long in the darkness.
We emerge outdoors. I squint against the sudden light, my eyes watering. The sky stretches overhead, brilliant blue and cloudless. A beautiful day for dying.
The arena spreads out before me.
I’ve heard about these places. Every pack has one, but I’ve never seen ours in person. Stone seats rise in tiers, surrounding a circular pit. An open-air amphitheater where the pack gathers to watch justice be served. Entertainment disguised as law enforcement.
Pack members already fill the seats. Hundreds of them. Their faces blur together, a sea of strangers come to watch me die.
My heart hardens in my chest. I won’t give them the satisfaction of tears. Won’t beg or plead or break down. If this is how it ends, I’ll face it standing.
They drag me toward the center of the arena. The sound of mychains scraping against the stone echoes, amplified by the bowl shape of the space.
Zion stands near the front, close to where Alaric sits in an ornate chair. The Alpha’s seat. The place of judgment.
