Page 28

“Thatthinginside you—it’s not a curse. It’s a blessing. And you should be ashamed. Ashamed that you spent your life trying to kill it.”

I wanted to scream at him. Tell him it wasn’t a gift. Not for me. Not for girls born Omega in the courts of the South. But the pain rose again, drowning the words in fire. I sank to my knees, shivering as heat spread across my back, across the remnants of the runes that still held—barely.

He watched me crumble but the pain didn’t last. It never did. That was the cruel part. It came like a firestorm—violent, blinding, enough to make me think it would end me—and then it ebbed, leaving only ash and a hollow echo in my chest where silence used to live.

The rune was gone.

I could feel the emptiness it left behind, like a tooth ripped from the bone. But the rest still held. For now. I stayed on the floor, breath shallow, forehead pressed to the cool stone. The ache had faded to a dull throb beneath my skin, but I didn’t move. I couldn’t trust myself not to fall apart again.

Garrick didn’t speak. He just… watched.

Then, without a word, he stepped out. I heard the soft clink of a pitcher, the scrape of metal against wood, and when he returned, he held out a cup. Water. Cold and clean. He set it beside me on the floor and moved to the door again.

“Food’s coming,” he muttered to the guard stationed outside. “Tell the kitchen to make it hot.”

He came back in, crouched beside me, silent. Not cruel. Not kind either. Just there. When I finally sat up, my limbs felt heavy, my breath still shaky.

“…Thank you,” I said, voice low. “For not calling him.”

His eyes flicked toward me, unreadable. “Didn’t think he’d help.”

“He wouldn’t.”

We sat in silence for a moment. The fire cracked in the hearth. I pulled the cup into my hands and drank greedily, the water sharp and cold against my throat.

A knock came, and Garrick rose to collect the tray. He brought it over and set it in front of me—bread, stewed meat, a slice of hard cheese. Simple. But warm. And enough.

I didn’t hesitate. I ate like someone who didn’t know if she’d get another chance.

“You’ve been starving,” he muttered.

“Wasn’t exactly feasting on the docks,” I said between bites.

He huffed something close to a laugh, leaned against the edge of the hearth, arms crossed. We didn’t speak for a while. Then his voice broke the quiet, low and casual—too casual.

“What broke it?”

I stopped chewing. Looked up slowly.

“What?”

“The rune.” He nodded toward me. “What cracked it? Was it the wordLuna?” A pause. Then, lower: “Or the image of another woman in the Alpha’s bed?”

I didn’t answer. My jaw clenched, and the low sound I made was closer to a growl than a word.He smiled.

“I’ll take that as amix of both.”

“Don’t push me,” I warned.

He just laughed again, a breath of sound through his nose, dark and knowing. “You think you’re confused? You should’ve seen him yesterday.”

I frowned, but didn’t ask. He told me anyway.

“I brought up your name. Just to test him. Asked if you were worth the trouble.”

He glanced at me, lips twitching into a grin.

“He broke my jaw.”