Daniel was thrilled. "Hannah, no take-backs! I'm setting it up now!"

I lowered my eyes. "I won't back out."

The competition was in Westron Town, a laid-back place. I planned to settle there after the event. I went to the pack's migration office to start the process, which would take a month. I booked a ticket to leave then.

Meanwhile, social media shoved Derek's latest post in my face: a photo of me, humiliated in that donkey costume, next to Brittany's radiant glamour shot.

His caption read: She's the one who has my heart.

I stared at the screen, remembering how Derek once favored me-in his warped way.

He'd chase off my bullies but lash out at me with cruel words. He claimed me as his but molded me into the pack's despised lapdog. He'd share his secrets yet guard himself against me and Mom.

At eighteen, I naively thought Derek was just a lost pup I could save with love. Then Brittany returned, and one drunken night, he confessed, "Brittany, I miss you so much." It hit me: I was just her stand-in. The spark I felt when he bared his soul to me turned to ash.

Expressionless, I blocked them both and called a ride back to the villa to pack. The moment I walked in, Derek was there, his face dark, tossing a check at me.

"Ten million. Compensation for you and your mom."

"I'll tell the pack your mom's depression led to her suicide. The Sullivans are clear."

I laughed bitterly. What was this? Hush money from a killer? I tore the check to shreds and headed upstairs.

Derek grabbed my wrist, hard. "You made Brittany cry, Hannah. You think you get to throw a tantrum? Ten million not enough?"

He flung a stack of cash at my face, the bills stinging my cheek. "Money? The Sullivans have plenty. But you, thinking you could be my mate? Not a chance."

I met his furious eyes calmly. "Derek, I never wanted to be your mate. And Mom never wanted your father's bond."

His rage twisted into a mocking laugh. "You think your mom's death means I've got nothing on you? You'll regret this."

He stormed out, slamming the door.

The next day, reporters swarmed me outside.

"Hannah, is it true your mom was a homewrecker?"

"Did you sabotage Derek's bond with the Kane pack's she-wolf?"

"Did your mom kill herself out of shame for being caught cheating?"

Their venomous questions pierced like claws. I realized then: Mom, alive or dead, was my weakness. Derek was still dragging her name through the mud to control me.

I dodged the reporters and raced to the enforcers' station to report it, but no one would touch my case. A patrol dog chased me off, and I fell, bruising my arm. As the lies about Mom grew uglier, I called Derek.

Half an hour later, I was back in that bar, lights flashing, the dance floor a blur of hedonism. Derek lounged in the center, eyeing me like prey. "Two choices: keep being my donkey, or I make sure your mom's restless even in the afterlife."

My heart tore, but I couldn't break from him yet. I had to escape. Biting back humiliation, I nodded. "I'll do what you say. Just keep your promise and kill the rumors."

His smile was faint. "Show me your sincerity. Kneel to Brittany, apologize, and I'll let this slide."

My nails dug into my palms, pain dulled by despair. I walked to Brittany and dropped to my knees with a thud, my voice shaking. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have worn the same dress, stolen your spotlight, made you upset for days. Please forgive me."

The crowd around me whispered, their eyes darting between me and Brittany like I was some kind of circus act.

"My God, I've never seen someone kneel over a dress clash!" one gawked.

"Derek's got Brittany on a pedestal!" another chimed in.

"Lapdog's gonna end up with nothing!" a third sneered.

Kneeling there, my heart bled out. Brittany, all smiles, signaled a waiter to bring ten bottles of hard liquor. "Hannah, chug these, and I'll forgive you," she purred, her doll-like face beaming with fake innocence.

I glanced at Derek, ready to remind him I'm allergic to alcohol. He cut me off, lips curling with scorn. "Allergic? Nobody's coddling you here."

His words were venom, like he wasn't the same wolf who once smashed a glass from my hand, scolding me for not taking care of myself. I said nothing, just poured the liquor down my throat. The burn tore through my stomach, pain twisting my face, sweat dripping. Ten bottles later, whatever was left of me and Derek was ash.

Eyes bloodshot, I glared at him. "Happy now?"

"Happy?" Derek pulled Brittany close, his tone dripping with indulgence. "Babe, what else should she do to make it up to you?"

Brittany's cheeks flushed, but her glance at me was pure disdain. "How about a maid outfit? Let her serve everyone here on her knees." She giggled, adding, "Don't worry, Hannah. Make my friends happy, and Derek'll pay you. Three grand an hour-same as that bottle of wine your mom stole from my family."

My face went white. I'm an art student; tuition and training cost a fortune. Back when Dad died, we had nothing. Mom took a job as a maid for the Kane pack to keep my dreams alive, only to be harassed by Brittany's dad, Lawrence. Brittany framed her for theft, got her fired. Mom's life was misery-accused of stealing, seducing, and now, driven to suicide. The victims carried the guilt; the abusers slept easy. What a sick joke.

I clenched my teeth, voice sharp. "My mom didn't steal wine. Or wolves."

Laughter erupted. Derek's frown deepened. "Still lying, Hannah? You saying Brittany framed her?"

"You'd better watch it. Slander's a crime."

"Then call the enforcers," I shot back. "Let them figure out who's lying."

Derek's smirk was cold. "This is Belmor Town. I run things here. Do what Brittany says while I'm still patient."

Tears stung my eyes, but I gave in, slipping into the maid outfit. My face took slaps, my hands held trays of spiteful drinks, my dignity crushed. When the crowd finally left, Derek leaned in. "Next time, it won't be this easy." He wrapped an arm around Brittany and sauntered to his car.

The car rocked soon after, moans spilling out. I flashed back to when Derek forced himself on me in his car, spitting cruel words while clinging to me like he'd break me. I thought he felt something for me, held back only by guilt over his mom. I was wrong. He just wanted to defile me, to punish me.

Tears blurred my vision. Everything went black.

When I came to, I was dangling a hundred feet in the air, ropes biting into my skin. One glance down, and vertigo hit like a freight train. My mouth was taped, muffling my screams to whimpers. Icy wind lashed my thin frame, threatening to snap me loose.

Rain poured, and Derek's voice sliced through. "Hannah, I underestimated you. Apologize, and you bring a hidden camera to record it? You think any media in Belmor Town would dare cross the Sullivan pack? Who'd air your little videos?"

My heart sank. Of course. Derek owned this town, black and white. No one would risk their neck for me.

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."