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.

Ericka POV:

I checked myself out of the hospital the next morning. The doctors tried to stop me, but I had nothing left to lose. I had to go back. Not to beg, but to finish things.

I dragged my dying body back to the pack hospital, intending to confront Hailie one last time. I needed to know why she hated me so much.

I found her room. She was "recovering" from her near-drowning, surrounded by flowers.

But before I could enter, I heard voices.

"Is she dead?" It was my mother's voice.

"Coast Guard picked her up," Hailie's voice replied, annoyed. "She's like a cockroach."

"Damn it," my father grumbled. "If she comes back, it's going to be a PR nightmare. We should have just let her drown."

"Don't worry," Hailie laughed. "Caleb hates her. He thinks she pushed me. He's talking about a public execution if she returns."

"Good," my mother said. "Fitz needs to secure his position as Beta. Ericka is just a stain on our reputation now. A Wolfless freak."

I stood frozen in the hallway. My own parents. The people who raised me. The people I gave up my wolf to save-my sacrifice allowed Fitz to be strong, allowed our family to stay in power. And they wanted me dead.

I pushed the door open.

The room went silent. My parents looked at me with pure loathing. Hailie just smiled.

"Get out," I told my parents. My voice was a whisper, but it carried a weight I didn't know I possessed. "Get out."

They sneered and brushed past me. "Don't expect us to pay for your funeral," my father spat as he left.

I was alone with Hailie.

"Why?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe for support.

Hailie sat up, checking her nails. "Because I'm a Rogue, honey. And your pack? It's the strongest. I want it. I want the power, the money, the status."

"You're a Rogue?"

"Born and raised," she grinned, her eyes flashing a dull, muddy brown. She dropped the act completely. "I used a witch to mask my scent. I forged the letters. I poisoned your IV drips with silver while you were in a coma. And Caleb? He's so stupid. A little tear, a little cleavage, and he does whatever I want."

I pulled my phone from my pocket. The screen was recording.

"Got it," I said.

Hailie's face went pale. Then, it twisted into a demonic rage.

"Give me that!"

She lunged at me. I was weak, but I sidestepped. She crashed into the wall.

Suddenly, she screamed. A bloodcurdling shriek.

"Help! She has a knife!"

Hailie grabbed a vase and smashed it against her own head. Blood trickled down her forehead. Then, she ran to the window, opened it, and threw herself out onto the terrace below. It was only a second-story drop-easy for a wolf, even a weak one.

"Hailie!" Caleb burst into the room.

He looked at the open window, then at me holding my phone.

"You pushed her," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Caleb, listen to this-" I tried to hold up the phone.

He slapped it out of my hand. It skittered across the floor and under the bed.

"I am done listening to your lies!"

He grabbed me by the hair. Pain exploded in my scalp. He dragged me out of the room, up the stairs, all the way to the hospital roof.

The wind was howling up here. He pushed me to the edge.

"You like making people fall?" he snarled, his eyes glowing red with Alpha fury. "Let's see how you like it."

He grabbed a coil of rope left by maintenance workers. It was woven with silver threads-used for restraining feral wolves.

He tied it around my ankles. The silver burned instantly, eating into my flesh.

"Caleb, please! She's a Rogue!"

"Shut up!"

He shoved me over the edge.

I fell. The rope snapped taut, jerking my ankles with agonizing force. I swung there, upside down, five stories above the concrete. The blood rushed to my head. The silver burned my legs.

"Think about what you've done!" Caleb yelled from above. "If Hailie has a single scratch, I will cut this rope!"

Ericka POV:

I swayed in the wind, the city lights spinning dizzily below me. My ankles felt like they were being sawed off. The silver in the rope was reacting with the silver already in my blood, creating a toxicity that made my veins turn black visibly under my skin.

Snap.

One strand of the rope gave way.

I looked up. Caleb wasn't there anymore. He had left me hanging.

Snap.

The second strand broke.

I didn't scream. I just closed my eyes.

The rope gave way.

I plummeted.

I hit the terrace awning on the second floor first, tearing through the canvas, which slowed my fall, before crashing onto the concrete patio.

Crack.

Agony flared in my chest as ribs shattered, and my leg twisted at a sickening angle. But the awning had saved my life-barely.

I lay there, broken, staring at the moon. I couldn't move. I couldn't breathe.

Footsteps approached. Not Caleb.

Two men. They smelled like dirt and old blood. Rogues that Caleb kept as prisoners for labor.

"Look at this," one grunted, kicking my broken leg. I gasped, choking on blood. "The Alpha said we could have some fun with the traitor before the cleaners come."

"She's pretty broken," the other laughed, unzipping his pants. "But she's still warm."

Fear, cold and primal, spiked in my chest. I tried to crawl away, but my body wouldn't obey.

"No..." I gurgled.

The first man grabbed my shirt and ripped it open.

But as he did, I coughed. A violent, wet spasm that expelled a massive amount of black, tar-like blood all over his face and chest.

The smell was horrific-the scent of rotting flesh and pure chemical death.

"What the hell?" The rogue jumped back, wiping the slime from his face. "It burns! What is wrong with her blood?"

"She's rotting from the inside out," the other man gagged, looking at the black veins pulsing on my neck. "She's got the Silver Blight. Don't touch her, you idiot! It's contagious to wolves!"

They backed away in horror, ziping their pants back up. My sickness had become my only defense.

Dr. Evans burst onto the patio, followed by nurses.

"Get away from her!" Evans shouted at the rogues.

He knelt beside me. "Goddess above... Ericka."

He pulled out his phone and dialed. "Alpha! Alpha, you need to come. She fell. It's... she's dying. Her vitals are crashing."

I could hear Caleb's voice on the other end, loud and dismissive. "Let her rot. If she dies, put her in the incinerator."

Click.

Evans looked at me with tears in his eyes. "I'm sorry, Ericka. I'm so sorry."

My vision faded to white.

Suddenly, I wasn't on the cold concrete. I was in a field of moonflowers. A woman stood before me, glowing with soft, silver light.

The Moon Goddess.

"My child," she spoke, her voice like a lullaby. "You have suffered so much."

"Am I dead?" I asked. I felt no pain here.

"Not yet," she said. "But you are at the crossroads. You can fight to live, to prove your innocence... or you can let go."

I looked back at the darkness where my life was. Caleb's hate. My parents' betrayal. The endless pain.

"I'm tired," I whispered. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"Then prepare your heart," the Goddess said sadly. "For the final severing."

I opened my eyes in the hospital bed. I was alive. Unfortunately.