Jillian POV:

The humiliation didn't stop at the Gala. It was Elder Eleanor's eightieth birthday. The matriarch despised me.

"You will present a gift," Alex had ordered. "Something handmade. Show some effort."

I had spent nights painting the Silver Lake forest. It was the only piece of home I had left.

The banquet hall smelled of roasted meat and judgment. Elder Eleanor sat on her throne, eyes sharp as a hawk's.

"The Omega has a gift," Alex announced, bored.

I stepped forward, holding the covered canvas. "Happy Birthday, Elder Eleanor."

I pulled the cloth away.

Gasps rang out.

My blood ran cold.

It wasn't my landscape. The canvas was a crude, grotesque painting of Eleanor's face on a pig's body, roasting on a spit.

"Abomination!" Eleanor shrieked. "Insolent cur!"

"No!" I cried. "This isn't mine! I painted the forest! Someone switched it!"

I looked at Charlotte. She was covering a smirk behind a champagne flute.

"Alex, please," I begged. "You saw me painting the trees!"

Alex looked at the painting, then at me. He knew. He had to know. But he sighed, rubbing his temples.

"Grandmother, she has no taste," Alex said dismissively. "I'll have her removed."

"Removed?" Eleanor roared. "She insulted the Matriarch! She needs discipline!"

"She's just an Omega, Grandmother," Alex said, trying to de-escalate, but not defending me. "It's not worth the effort."

"It is to me! Guards! The cane!"

Two warriors grabbed my arms. Alex stepped back. He didn't stop them. He just poured himself a drink, looking away.

"Ten strikes," Eleanor commanded.

The cane came down. It wasn't the Silver Whip—that would kill me—but the heavy wood cracked against my back with bone-breaking force.

CRACK.

I bit my tongue to keep from screaming.

CRACK.

I locked eyes with Alex. He was checking his phone.

That was the moment. Not the pain of the wood, but the indifference in his eyes. He wasn't a monster who enjoyed my pain; he was a coward who wouldn't lift a finger to stop it.

By the tenth strike, I was slumped on the floor.

"Get her out of my sight," Eleanor spat.

As the guards dragged me away, I saw Charlotte whisper in Alex's ear. He finally smiled.

I didn't pass out. I memorized that smile. It was the fuel I needed.

Jillian POV:

I woke up in my bed. My back throbbed.

"Pack your bags," Alex said from the doorway. "Grandmother wants you gone. We're going to the Winter Cabin until the heat dies down."

Exile. He was hiding me away so he could parade Charlotte around without his 'embarrassment' present.

"Okay," I croaked.

While packing, I heard him on the phone in the hall.

"Yeah, Charlotte. We're leaving... No, I'm not bringing her back. She stays at the cabin... Indefinitely. I'm tired of the drama. Once she's up there, the snow will keep her trapped. We can finally move on."

He wasn't planning to kill me. He was planning to bury me alive in isolation.

Perfect.

I texted the Delphi contact: Moving to Plan B. Location: Blackwater Cliff. Tonight.

The drive was silent. The blizzard was already howling when we arrived.

"I'm going to check the generator," Alex said. "Don't unpack. You're staying in the guest quarters."

He walked out into the storm.

I moved fast. I grabbed a kitchen knife and slashed my arm—superficial, but bloody. I dripped it on the porch snow. I overturned the furniture. I made it look like a Rogue raid.

I ran to the cliff edge. The Blackwater River raged below.

I didn't need the poison pill. The drop alone would convince them.

I stood on the precipice.

"Goodbye, Alex," I whispered into the wind. "I reject you."

I jumped.

The icy air rushed past me. I hit the water hard, the cold shock instant and paralyzing. I let the current take me, dragging me under, away from the life of Jillian Andrews.

Above me, through the roaring wind, I heard a howl. Not of grief, but of confusion.