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.

Ericka POV:

It was my birthday.

I lay in the hospital bed, listening to the silence. No one came. No cards. No flowers. Just the rhythmic beeping of the machines keeping my broken body functioning.

I pulled the IVs out.

The alarms blared, but I silenced them with a heavy hand. I sat up. The pain was excruciating, but the painkillers Dr. Evans had left gave me a floaty, detached sensation.

I had hidden a bag under the mattress. Inside was a white dress-the one Caleb had bought me for my 18th birthday, years ago. The last gift he ever gave me before the "accident."

I put it on. It hung loosely on my emaciated frame. The white fabric highlighted the black veins mapping my skin and the bruises covering my arms.

I couldn't walk. My leg was shattered. I dragged myself into a wheelchair left in the corner of the room. I wheeled myself out into the hallway. It was shift change; the corridors were momentarily empty.

I made it to the service elevator and pressed the button for the roof.

The wind on the helipad was biting, whipping my hair across my face. It was midnight. The full moon was directly overhead, a giant, unblinking eye witnessing my finale.

I took out the phone I had retrieved from under the bed in Hailie's room before I left. I placed it on the edge of the parapet, along with Dr. Evans' medical report that stated: Silver Toxicity: Terminal. Life expectancy: < 24 hours.

I dialed Caleb's number.

He answered on the second ring. "What do you want, traitor? I told you to die quietly."

His voice didn't hurt me anymore. It was just noise.

"Happy Birthday to me, Caleb," I said softly.

"Is this a joke? You're wasting my time."

"I left a gift for you. On the hospital roof."

"I don't want your trash."

"You'll want this," I said. "It's my freedom. And yours."

I looked up at the moon. I could feel the mate bond in my chest, a thick, golden rope connecting my soul to his. It was tattered, stained with abuse, but still holding.

It was time to cut it.

"Caleb," I said, my voice steady.

"What?"

I took a deep breath, drawing on the last reserves of my strength. I spoke the ancient words, the words that every wolf fears, the words that shatter souls.

"I, Ericka Reid, reject you, Caleb Skinner, as my Alpha and my Mate."

Silence on the other end.

Then, the pain hit.

It wasn't a sharp pain. It was a tearing sensation, as if someone had reached into my chest and ripped my heart in half. I screamed, collapsing back into the wheelchair.

"Ericka! What did you do?" Caleb's voice sounded panicked now, distant and tinny through the phone.

I gasped, blood bubbling past my lips. The bond snapped. The connection was gone. I was hollow. Empty. Free.

"Goodbye, Caleb," I whispered.

I pushed the wheels forward.

"Ericka! Stop!"

I rolled off the edge.

The wind rushed past my ears. The white dress fluttered around me like broken wings. For a moment, I was flying.

Then, the pavement rushed up to meet me. And everything went dark.