Chapter4

The apartment is a joke.

One room, a kitchenette, a bathroom with mold creeping up the tiles.

This is what nine years as Luna gets you.

I drop my bag and reach for my phone to confirm details with L.

It's gone.

What?

I tear through my bag—not there.

Then I remember: Darius was standing too close when I got out of the car.

His hand on my jacket.

That bastard.

A knock at the door makes me freeze.

"Elena?" Serena's voice, sing-song through the thin wood. "I brought some things for you!"

You've got to be joking.

I open the door to find her holding a basket of what looks like charity donations.

"I thought you might need some essentials." She pushes past me into the apartment. "Oh. It's... cozy."

Cozy. Right.

"Thanks for the concern." I take the basket. "You can go now."

"Actually, I wanted to talk." She sits on my bed—the only furniture—and looks around. "You know, woman to woman."

Here we go.

"I know this is hard for you," she continues, folding her hands over her belly. "Losing everything. But you have to understand—Darius and I, we're fated mates. The Moon Goddess herself—"

"The Moon Goddess has nothing to do with ambition and opportunity," I cut her off. "Don't dress up homewrecking in divine language."

Her smile tightens.

"You were never enough for him." The sweetness drops from her voice. "Did you know? That night you lost your baby, he was with me at Moonlight Lake. Watching the stars. He told me he felt more peace in that hour than in three years of marriage to you."

Moonlight Lake.

While I bled out in the snow after that ambush.

While our child died inside me.

My vision tunnels.

"And when your grandmother died last winter?" Serena stands, moving to the window. "He sent Marcus to the funeral. Said he had 'pack business.' The business was me, Elena. In his bed. In your bed, actually. We christened those silk sheets you loved so much."

Breathe.

Just breathe.

"Feel better?" I ask quietly. "Getting it all out?"

"Immensely." She turns to face me. "I just wanted you to know exactly what you lost. And who you lost it to."

She moves toward the door, then pauses at the kitchenette.

"Oh, you should really be more careful with cooking oil near open flames."

She bumps the counter, and the oil lamp tips over.

Flames erupt across the wooden surface, racing toward the curtains.

"Oops." Serena's eyes are cold. "How clumsy of me."

She walks out, closing the door behind her.

The fire spreads fast—too fast.

Silver oil. She used silver oil.

The smoke is toxic, laced with silver particles that burn my lungs with every breath.

I stumble toward the door, but my legs won't cooperate.

The blood loss. My heart.

Not like this.

I drop to my knees, crawling toward the window.

My vision blurs, the silver poisoning working through my system.

My documents. The hidden ones.

I drag myself to the loose floorboard, prying it up with failing fingers.

Passport. Birth certificate. Bank papers.

All intact.

Thank god.

I shove them in my jacket as the ceiling starts to cave.

"FIRE!" Someone's shouting outside. "Fire in unit 3B!"

The door crashes open.

Through the smoke, I see Darius's silhouette.

Of course you'd come.

Of course you'd play hero.

He looks around wildly, his eyes landing on me for a split second.

Then he sees Serena collapsed near the bathroom—when did she collapse?—and makes his choice.

He scoops her up and runs.

Of course.

Of course he chooses her.

The smoke drags me under, and I welcome it.

Better to burn than beg.

But then there's another sound—breaking glass, cool air rushing in.

Hands grab me, pull me through the window.

"Got you." Marcus's voice. "I got you, Luna."

Not Luna anymore, Marcus.

But thank you anyway.

I hear sirens, shouting, Darius yelling Serena's name.

Marcus carries me to the paramedics, sets me down gently.

"She was unconscious when I arrived," he tells them. "Smoke inhalation, possible silver poisoning."

Possible. Definitely.

Darius appears, Serena cradled in his arms, her eyes fluttering dramatically.

"Get her oxygen NOW!" he roars at the paramedics.

They rush to comply.

Nobody rushes for me.

Story of my life.

My phone—Darius's phone, the one he stole—buzzes in his pocket.

He pulls it out, glances at the screen.

His face goes white.

L: If she's not answering in one hour, I'm coming to Blood Moon territory. And I'm bringing an army.

Darius's eyes snap to me.

I smile through the oxygen mask.

Surprise, Alpha.

I'm not as alone as you thought.

He types something furiously, but the phone buzzes again immediately.

L: Put Elena on. Now.

"Who the hell—" Darius starts toward me.

But I'm already moving.

I rip off the oxygen mask and stumble toward the tree line.

Run. Just run.

"ELENA!" Darius's command voice crashes over me.

My legs keep moving.

Not this time.

Never again.

The forest swallows me whole, and I don't stop running until I reach the northern border.

A black helicopter sits in the clearing, rotors already spinning.

A man in dark clothes waves me forward.

L sent him.

I climb aboard, and we lift off just as Darius crashes through the trees below.

I watch him get smaller and smaller.