“Nothing to say?” Rafe barks out a laugh. “That’s fine. I don’t need you to talk. I just need you to suffer.”
He stops pacing and grabs the bars with both hands, leaning in close enough that I can smell the sweat and somethingsour on his breath. His eyes are bloodshot and rimmed with red, like he hasn’t slept in days. Whatever composure he had during our first meeting has completely unraveled.
“Do you know what your pack did to mine?” he hisses. “Do you have any idea what they took from us? The corruption wasn’t a disease, no matter what Luna and her witches told everyone. It was evolution. It was the next step in what our kind could become. My father understood that. He saw the potential that everyone else was too blind or too scared to embrace.”
“The corruption was killing your wolves,” I point out. “I treated them after the purification. I saw what it did to their bodies and their minds. They were suffering, Rafe. Whatever your father told you, the truth is that his ‘evolution’ was destroying his own people from the inside out.”
He releases the bars with a huff and takes a step back, shaking his head like he’s trying to dislodge something. “That’s what Luna wants everyone to believe. That’s the story Silvercreek tells to justify what they did to us. But I was there. I saw my father at the height of his power. I witnessed for myself what the Cheslem pack could have become if your people hadn’t interfered.”
“You saw what you wanted to see.”
“I saw the truth!” His shout echoes off the concrete walls, and somewhere down the corridor, I hear one of the guards adjust their stance nervously. “My father was a visionary. He understood that the old ways were dying, that packs like Silvercreek were clinging to traditions that would eventually destroy us all. He tried to save our people, and they crucified him for it. Luna and her pet witches ripped the power out of our wolves like they were performing surgery, and they called it mercy. They called it healing.”
The bitterness in his voice is so thick I can almost taste it. This is a man who has built his entire identity around his father’s legacy. He’s convinced himself that Matthias was a hero rather than a monster. Nothing I say will change that. The lies he tells himself are the only thing holding him together.
“It doesn’t matter,” he snarls after a long moment. “None of it matters anymore. In a few hours, Silvercreek will burn, and everyone who destroyed my family will burn with it.”
That gets my attention. I sit up straighter and ask, “What do you mean, a few hours?”
“The explosives are already in place.” Rafe’s smile is terrible, empty of everything except hate. “My wolves planted them while yours were busy chasing shadows at the border. The medical center, the pack house, the school… They’re all wired and ready to blow. Bryan can search for you until his legs give out. By the time he figures out where you are,ifhe even bothers to try, there won’t be a Silvercreek left to go home to.”
The medical center. Fern works there. Sera works there. Children go to school every day, pups who haven’t even had their first shift yet. I think about their faces, their laughter, the way they chase each other across the playground during recess. The thought of them caught in an explosion makes my stomach lurch.
“You’re insane,” I breathe. “You’ll kill innocent people. Children, Rafe. There are children in that school.”
“Collateral damage.” He shrugs like we’re discussing the weather. “My sister was a child, too, when your pack’s purification ritual ripped the power out of her and left her a hollow shell. She died because her body couldn’t survive the loss. Did anyone in Silvercreek mourn for her? Did anyone even know her name?”
I don’t have an answer for that. I don’t know anything about Rafe’s sister, about what happened to her during or after the purification. The ritual was designed to cleanse the corruption, to free the wolves who had been trapped inside it. But magic always has a cost, and sometimes that cost falls on the people who can least afford to pay it.
Still, killing children won’t bring her back. It won’t undo whatever pain Rafe is carrying. It will just create more orphans, more grieving families, more fuel for the cycle of violence that’s already consumed too many lives.
“This won’t make you feel better,” I tell him. “Revenge never does. Trust me. I’ve seen enough people try.”
Rafe straightens his jacket, and the mask slides back into place, though it doesn’t fit as well as it used to. Cracks show at the edges, letting the madness underneath peek through. “Maybe not. But it will make Bryan feel worse. And right now, that’s enough for me.”
He spins around and stomps toward the door without another word. As I watch him go, my mind races through everything he just said. The explosives are already planted. The attack is happening in hours, not days. Whatever window we had for escape just shrank dramatically.
The metal door clangs shut behind him, and his footsteps fade down the corridor.
I wait until I can’t hear him anymore before looking at Dina. She’s staring at me through the bars with her face drained of color and her eyes huge. She heard everything.
“The explosives,” she whispers. “We have to find a way to warn them.”
“I know.” I start working at my ropes with renewed urgency, ignoring the pain as the fibers tear at my already sensitive skin. “How close are you to getting free?”
Dina holds up her hands, and I can see that the ropes around her wrists have loosened significantly. Not enough to slip free yet, but close. “Maybe another hour if I keep at it.”
I twist my arms harder and feel the rope give another fraction of an inch. “Rafe said a few hours. That could mean two, could mean six. We can’t take the chance.”
“I know. I’ll work faster.”
We fall silent as we both concentrate on the task at hand. The only sounds are our ragged breathing and the faint scrape of rope against skin. My wrists are slick with blood now, which actually helps. The rope slides more easily against the wet surface, and I can feel the knots starting to loosen with every twist.
Dina catches my eye through the bars and mouths something. It takes me a moment to understand what she’s saying.
Almost free.
I nod and keep working. My own ropes are close to giving way, too. Another few minutes, maybe less, and I’ll be able to slip my hands out.
