Ericka POV:

The next morning, I knew I had to sever the emotional tie. If I didn't, the pain of the rejection would kill me before the silver did.

I crawled to the corner of the attic where I kept an old shoebox. Inside were photos of us-me, Fitz, and Caleb-from when we were children. Before the accident. Before I gave my wolf to Fitz. Before Caleb became Alpha.

We were smiling. Caleb had his arm around me.

I took a lighter I had found in the kitchen trash. With trembling hands, I set the edge of the photo on fire.

"Goodbye," I whispered, watching Caleb's smiling face turn to ash.

"What are you doing?"

Hailie's shrill voice made me jump. She stood at the door, her eyes widening as she saw the small flame. A wicked idea seemed to cross her face.

She kicked a pile of old newspapers near the rug toward me. Then, she kicked the burning photo onto them.

The dry paper caught fire instantly. The flames licked up the curtains.

"Fire! Fire!" Hailie screamed, but she didn't run. She stood there, smiling. Then her eyes glazed over-she was mind-linking. Alpha! Help! Ericka is trying to burn the house down! She's trying to kill me!

"No!" I tried to stomp out the fire, but I was too weak.

Moments later, Caleb burst into the room. He didn't ask questions. He didn't look at the evidence. He saw Hailie cowering in the corner (fake tears streaming down her face) and me standing near the flames.

"You insane bitch!" Caleb roared.

He grabbed me by the throat and slammed me against the wall. The back of my head cracked against the plaster.

"You try to murder your future Luna?" he snarled. "Because you're jealous?"

"She... she started it..." I gasped, clawing at his hand.

"Liar!"

He dragged me out of the smoke-filled room, down the stairs, and into the basement. He threw me into the pack's sauna room.

"Since you like heat so much," Caleb hissed, "let's see how you handle this."

He turned the dial all the way up. But he didn't stop there. He grabbed a bundle of dried herbs from a shelf-Wolfsbane-and threw it onto the heater rocks.

"Enjoy your penance."

He slammed the heavy wooden door and locked it.

The heat rose instantly. But it wasn't just the temperature. As the Wolfsbane burned, it released a thick, purple-tinged vapor.

Wolfsbane is a neurotoxin to werewolves. It paralyzes the lungs.

I curled into a ball on the wooden bench, coughing violently. The air felt like broken glass in my throat. My vision blurred. I couldn't breathe. My chest heaved, but no oxygen came.

Caleb... please... I tried to mind-link him, but the connection was dead silence. He had blocked me.

I lay there for what felt like hours. The heat was blistering, drying out my skin, while the poison shut down my nervous system. I was suffocating on dry land.

Just as the black edges of death began to close in, the door opened.

Splash.

A bucket of ice water hit me.

The thermal shock was agonizing. My body convulsed, and I went into immediate shock.

Hailie stood there, empty bucket in hand, looking disappointed that I was still moving.

"Oops," she giggled. "Caleb said to cool you down."

I couldn't move. I couldn't speak. I just lay on the wet floor, twitching, praying for the Moon Goddess to just take me.

Ericka POV:

I woke up in the hospital again. My body felt heavy, like it was filled with lead. The monitor beside me beeped erratically.

The door opened, and Hailie walked in. No Caleb this time. Just her.

She walked to my bedside and leaned close. "You're hard to kill, aren't you?"

"Why..." I croaked. My throat was raw from the Wolfsbane.

"Because you're in the way," she whispered. She reached out and pressed her thumb directly onto the burn wound on my arm from the silver water.

She dug her nail in.

"AHHH!" I screamed, instinctively shoving her away. I was weak, but adrenaline gave me a moment of strength.

Hailie threw herself backward, crashing into the medical tray. "Help! She's attacking me!"

The door flew open. Caleb. Of course.

He saw Hailie on the floor, surrounded by scattered instruments, and me with my arm outstretched.

"Enough!" Caleb roared. The windows rattled.

He marched over to me, ripped the IV line out of my arm-blood spurted onto the sheets-and yanked me out of bed.

"I am done with your tantrums, Ericka. I am done with your jealousy."

"Caleb, she hurt me! Look at my arm!"

"Silence!" Use of the Alpha Command again. My jaw snapped shut.

He dragged me barefoot through the hospital corridors, out the back exit, and into the woods. He didn't stop until we reached the Ancestors' Tomb.

It was a sacred place, a circle of ancient stone markers where the past Alphas were buried. The ground was covered in sharp white gravel.

"Kneel," he commanded.

My knees hit the sharp stones. I cried out as the jagged edges sliced into my already damaged skin.

"You have disgraced this pack," Caleb said, his voice echoing in the silent graveyard. "You have dishonored your ancestors. You will stay here, on your knees, and beg for their forgiveness until the moon is high."

"Caleb, please... it's cold..." I was wearing only a thin hospital gown. The wind was biting.

"Then freeze," he said coldly. "Maybe the cold will kill the rot inside you."

He turned and left me there. Alone.

I knelt there for hours. The sun set, and the temperature dropped. My knees were a bloody mess, the gravel embedded in my flesh. I shivered so hard my teeth chattered.

I looked at the graves of the great Alphas. They seemed to judge me, too.

I tried, I told them silently. I gave my wolf to save the Beta. I loved my Alpha. I did everything right.

But it didn't matter.

When the moon finally rose, high and full, I couldn't feel my legs anymore. I dragged myself across the gravel, leaving a trail of blood, toward the edge of the cemetery where the old Groundskeeper lived.

The old man, a human who knew nothing of pack politics, looked at me with horror.

"Child! What happened?"

I pulled a crumpled wad of cash from my pocket-money I had hidden in my shoe, the only thing I had left.

"Please," I whispered, my lips blue. "I need to buy something."

"Hospital? Ambulance?"

"No," I shook my head, pressing the money into his hand. "A stone. A blank tombstone."

"What for?"

I looked back at the imposing Pack House in the distance, where lights were on, where Caleb was probably warm and with Hailie.

"For me," I said. "I need it ready by tomorrow."

Because I knew. I could feel the silver in my veins, the wolfsbane in my lungs, and the broken heart in my chest. I wasn't going to survive another week. And I refused to be buried in an unmarked grave like a rogue. I would bury myself.

Ericka POV:

I survived the night in the graveyard, but I left a piece of my soul among the cold stones.

The next day, I wasn't returned to my cell. Instead, Caleb had me dressed in a flimsy cocktail dress that barely covered the bruises on my knees and arms. He dragged me to the marina.

"We are going on the yacht," Caleb announced, his hand gripping my elbow tight enough to cut off circulation. "The neighboring Alphas are visiting. I want them to see how merciful I am. I keep a traitor alive."

"Merciful?" I whispered. "You are killing me slowly."

"Silence," he growled.

The yacht was a floating palace of white fiberglass and chrome. Music pumped from the speakers, and waiters circulated with trays of champagne. Hailie was there, of course, wearing a stunning red gown that clung to her curves. She looked like a Luna. I looked like a ghost.

The sea was rough. Dark clouds gathered on the horizon, mirroring the turmoil inside me. The yacht rocked violently as we hit open water.

I stood by the railing, gripping the cold metal to keep from collapsing. My lungs burned with every breath-the aftereffects of the Wolfsbane sauna were permanent.

"Enjoying the view?" Hailie appeared beside me. No one else was looking; the party was in full swing on the upper deck.

"Leave me alone, Hailie."

"You look terrible," she smirked, leaning against the rail. "Like a corpse that forgot to lie down."

Suddenly, the boat lurched as a massive wave hit the side. I lost my footing on the slick deck.

"Whoops!" Hailie cried out.

But she didn't help me. She shoved me.

I tumbled over the railing. The dark, churning water rushed up to meet me. The shock of the cold was instant. It paralyzed my muscles. Saltwater flooded my nose and mouth, stinging the raw sores in my throat.

Splash!

Another body hit the water nearby.

I surfaced, gasping, trying to tread water with limbs that felt like lead. I saw Hailie floating a few yards away. She was perfectly fine, a strong swimmer, but she was flailing her arms and screaming.

"Caleb! Help! My leg! Cramp!"

"Hailie!" Caleb's voice roared from the deck above.

He dove in. His form was perfect, powerful. He sliced through the water like a torpedo.

Caleb... I tried to call out, but a wave slapped me in the face, filling my mouth with brine. Help me... please...

I saw him surface between us. He looked at me. Our eyes met across the choppy waves. I saw the recognition, the mate bond flaring one last time, begging him to save the other half of his soul.

Then he looked at Hailie.

"Save me, Alpha!" Hailie shrieked.

Caleb turned his back on me.

He swam to Hailie, wrapped his arm around her waist, and began towing her back to the yacht's ladder.

I stopped kicking.

The realization hit me harder than the freezing water. He chose. He chose the lie over the truth. He chose the snake over his mate.

My body, weakened by silver and abuse, gave up. I sank.

The water above me turned from white foam to dark green, then black. It was peaceful down here. The burning in my skin stopped. The ache in my heart dulled.

I closed my eyes, ready to let the ocean take what was left of Ericka Reid.

But I didn't die. My hand brushed against something rough-a barnacle-encrusted buoy tied to a fishing net. Instinct took over. I clung to it, gasping for air as the waves tossed me.

Moments later, blinding lights swept the water. The Coast Guard, responding to the distress call the yacht sent out for Hailie, spotted me clinging to the debris.

They hauled me up. I woke up on the deck of a patrol boat, vomiting seawater and blood.

A paramedic was shining a light in my eyes. He looked grim.

"Miss? Can you hear me?"

"Let me go," I rasped. "Let me die."

"We can't do that. We're taking you to the city hospital."

Later, in the sterile white room of the ICU, the doctor came in with a clipboard. He wasn't a pack doctor. He was human. He didn't know about wolves or silver.

"Miss Reid," he said softly. "Your lungs... they are destroyed. It looks like severe chemical pneumonitis combined with some kind of heavy metal toxicity. And your immune system has collapsed."

"How long?" I asked, staring at the ceiling.

He hesitated. "Two weeks. Maybe less. I'm so sorry."

Two weeks.

I didn't cry. I felt a strange sense of relief. The countdown had finally started.