Chapter 4

I should've known. Derek had every angle covered—no one would dare defy him. Still, I clung to hope, praying someone, anyone, would chase justice through the dark like I did.

His voice cut through again. "Hannah, you'll pay for your stupidity."

The ropes slackened. I plummeted like a rollercoaster, yanked back up, then dropped again. Over and over, each fall teasing death. Anger, grief, despair—they choked me, but I couldn't even scream. Was this how Mom felt? So hopeless she chose death?

Finally, the wolves hauled me onto the rooftop. I collapsed, staring up at Derek through bitter tears. "What do I have to do," I choked, "for you to let me and Mom go?"

I was done living with my life hanging by a thread, done with Mom's name dragged through the mud, done letting corruption snuff out my fight for light. All I wanted was to clear her name, chase my dreams, and honor the pack.

Derek's face twitched with irritation. He reached for me, then stopped, his expression hardening. "You'll never be free of me, Hannah." He turned and left.

I sat on that rooftop for hours, lost, not even noticing when Derek vanished. The next day, he announced he and Brittany were forming a sacred bond, kicking off a pre-binding trip. Beaches, oceans, sunsets—all witnesses to their so-called love.

My injuries healed fast, so I checked out of the healer's den. I went back to the Sullivan pack's old den to pack, then hiked into the deep woods to clear my head. For a week, life felt full, peaceful.

Then, in those same woods, I ran into Derek, Brittany, and their crew climbing. I tried to ignore them, but Derek's voice barked, "Ten grand to guide us."

Selfish, arrogant, insufferable. What did I ever see in him?

Before I could refuse, lightning cracked the sky, splitting trees on the hill ahead. Sparks flew, and the forest caught fire.

"Run!" I yelled, sprinting toward the base. The group followed, but no one could keep up. Some stumbled, swallowed by the flames. Only Derek and Brittany stayed close.

Fire scorched my skin, blisters blooming, flames licking my legs. We were almost safe when Derek yanked me back. "Slow down. Brittany's foot's cut."

I glanced at her foot—a scratch, barely bleeding. "That's a cut?" I snapped. They could give up, but I wasn't dying here.

Brittany's eyes welled up. "Derek, am I slowing you down? Go on, I'll catch up."

Then a burning tree crashed toward us. "Watch out!" Derek shoved me into its path, grabbed Brittany, and bolted. His back was all resolve, no hesitation. Brittany smirked over his shoulder, her victory grin screaming, Your life means nothing to him.

My heart shattered. My back burned, vision darkening. I passed out.

When I woke, I was wrapped in bandages, pain searing with every breath. The healer was updating Derek. "Hannah's burns are severe. She needs skin grafts."

I braced for him to refuse, but he agreed. My dead heart flickered—until he added, "No anesthesia. Her survival's up to fate."