Chapter 20

That voice—Joseph's, rough as gravel, cutting through the fog in my head.

Beard shadowing his whole face, clothes stiff with dried blood and that metallic tang hanging off him like a bad omen.

I froze solid, every muscle locking up. "What... what did you do?"

He didn't rush to spill—just snagged my paw, pressing it gentle to his cheek, like he was memorizing the feel.

That old familiar whiff—my scent, clean and sharp, cutting through the stink.

"Gina... easy. I just made Zoe cough up what was yours all along."

My free paw flew to my chest, instinct kicking in, brow furrowing tight. "Zoe—where is she?"

"Dead."

The word lodged in my throat, choking me cold.

Before I could gasp out a follow-up, the door exploded inward—wood splintering like thunder.

Brian lunged, fisting Joseph's collar and laying into him with a haymaker that echoed off the walls.

Joseph? Didn't even lift a paw to block—just took it, crumpling like wet paper.

That's when I clocked it—his shirt back, soaked dark crimson, blood seeping through like ink on newsprint.

Zoe must've knifed him good while bolting—desperate slash for freedom.

But he'd ignored the flow, too hell-bent on playing watchdog over me.

He clawed back from the brink, but the enforcers swooped in quick—cuffs clicking, hauling him out like yesterday's trash.

Too many ghosts in his closet, too many wolves baying for his hide over the ones rooting for breath in his lungs.

He leaned hard on his law wolf for one last favor: eyes on me, just once.

The mug of warm water in my paws went stone-cold as I stared at it, minutes bleeding into forever. Finally, I lifted my head. "Tell him sorry... but no. I can't."

What he pulled on me—on Shawn? That stain? No washing it out, not in this lifetime or the next.

The love we'd had? Like fireworks over the ridge—blazing hot, gone in a blink, leaving just smoke and scorch marks on the soul.

His regrets? Fancy words, empty howls. Couldn't drag Shawn back from the dark, couldn't rewind me to the she-wolf who'd fallen for his storm.

Sentencing day dawned—the same one Brian and I had slotted for our binding redo, making it official under the moon's watch.

But I ghosted again.

Nobody snatched me this time. My call, clean break.

Left a note for Brian—heartfelt scribble on house stationery.

Thanks didn't cover it, but I owed him that much. No need tying the knot just to square his old promise to Shawn—that brother's pact ran deeper than vows.

And me? Done being the pretty bird in some high-pack cage, feathers clipped for show. This round, I wanted the open trail—me and my pup's memory, chasing horizons, every bend a new howl at the stars.

Brian read it later, I figured—paws crushing the paper till it shredded, then that wry, broken chuckle. "You really buy that all my care was just a play, Gina?"

Empty room, no echo back.

But he'd shake it off quick—booking that ticket before the ink dried.

Last time, his heart wasn't loud enough. This go? He'd make damn sure I felt every beat.

"Gina... hold up. I'm coming."

[The End]