Chapter 14

Lucy.

I wrapped the towel tighter around myself, my skin still stinging from the cold water of the spring and the even colder humiliation Aurora had left me soaked in. The images of her smirk, the shutter sound of her phone, and the helplessness I felt as I floated in that water—they refused to leave me.

The moment I stepped back into my room, I shut the door and leaned against it, trying to catch my breath.

"She’s disgusting," I whispered aloud, voice shaking. "This place should have been a rehabilitation center than a palace! How the hell did she just take pictures of me almost naked? Goodness, I was losing my mind already."

I dried myself off and changed into something warm—black leggings and a sweatshirt I didn’t even remember packing. The mirror caught my reflection. My cheeks were pink from the chill and the anger. My eyes, red from unshed tears.

I wasn’t going to cry. Not for her. Not for any of them.

Then my phone buzzed.

Once. Then again. Then it didn’t stop.

My heart picked up speed. I grabbed it, hoping it was something, anything else. But instead, it was a number I hadn’t seen in weeks—my aunt’s. My stomach twisted.

I swiped to answer.

“Hello?”

“Lucy!” my aunt’s voice came through, frantic, breathless. “Lucy, your mother just woke up. She came out of the coma!”

The towel I had been holding slipped from my hands.

“Wait, you mean.she’s awake?” I whispered, barely daring to believe it. My knees went weak.

“She is, but she’s in pain, Lucy. You have to come now.”

I didn’t wait. I didn’t ask questions. I ran.

The moment I got to the hospital, I barely gave the front desk nurse time to point me down the hallway before I was sprinting through it, dodging carts and murmuring staff.

When I got to the room, I saw my mother.

Her eyes were open. Barely. Her face was twisted in pain, her lips dry and cracked, her breaths coming in short, shallow gasps. She looked like a ghost—fragile, pale, and far too still for the woman I remembered.

“Mom…” I whispered, stepping closer.

She turned her head slowly. Her eyes found me, and I saw the corners of her mouth lift. “Lucy,” she said, so softly it was barely a sound.

“Don’t speak, Mom. I’m here. I’m right here,” I told her, grabbing her hand gently, holding it like it was the last solid thing in the world.

A wolf doctor stepped in, a clipboard tucked under his arm. His expression was tight with concern.

“It's a good thing you came on time. As you can see, she’s awake, but the pain is intense,” he said. “It could be a result of underlying illness… or, well—”

“Or what?” I snapped.

He hesitated. “Or her body is failing. The pain may be a sign that she’s truly dying.”

His words hit like a punch. My grip on her hand tightened. “No. She just woke up. You said she just woke up!”

“I understand, but—”

“Is there a cure? A treatment? Something?” I demanded, every word trembling with fear and fury.

The doctor looked at me, sympathy clouding his features. “The pain will stop when either the illness is treated—or if her body gives out.”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “That’s not an option.”

He gave me a look that said he wished it wasn’t, then left us alone again.

My mother’s fingers twitched weakly in mine.

“I’m fine,” she rasped, as if she hadn’t just heard the same thing I had.

“No, you’re not,” I said, my eyes flooding. “You’re in pain. Don’t lie.”

“I’m proud of you,” she said instead, blinking slowly. “You’ve done more than I ever asked. You’ve fought. Survived. But don’t give up your life for me.”

“I’m not giving up anything—”

“You’ve already done more than enough,” she murmured, her voice cracking. “But I need you to promise me something.”

My tears fell freely now. “Anything.”

“Think before you act. Control your anger. You’re strong, Lucy. But strength without control is dangerous. I won’t always be around to fix your mistakes.”

“Don’t say that.” I leaned down, pressing my forehead to her hand. “Please don’t say that.”

“I love you.”

Her eyelids fluttered.

“Mom?” I said, sitting up quickly.

Her body went limp.

“Mom?!”

The monitor beeped wildly. Alarms shrieked. Doctors rushed in.

“Miss, you need to step out—!”

“No! Let me stay!” I screamed, resisting the nurse trying to lead me out.

“Please!” I fought, clawing at the doorframe, watching through the glass as they worked on her.

But I was no use here.

I was powerless.

I stood in the hallway, hands trembling, heart hollow, my eyes locked on the room where my mother’s life now hung in the balance.

Then my phone buzzed again.

I looked down.

Twenty-seven new messages.

I opened one, then another. My heart sank.

It was them.

The photos. The ones Aurora had taken. Of me, in the spring, exposed, vulnerable.

Posted.

Shared.

Trending.

Hundreds of hateful comments flooding in.

“Slut.”

“Desperate.”

“No wonder she accepted money to bear children for the thing.”

“Typical Omega trash.”

My stomach turned.

My face was everywhere. My body was everywhere. Stripped of dignity and decency. 

And people were eating it up.

I stared at the screen, then at the door to my mother’s room.

I didn’t know if she was going to make it.

I didn’t know if I was going to make it.

But I did know one thing.

I couldn’t stay here.

The palace was quiet when I got back. A storm was gathering over the horizon, clouds rolling in thick and angry, just like the ones in my chest.

I didn’t care who saw me. I went straight to my room, threw open my drawers, and grabbed everything I could shove into a duffel bag. I didn’t fold. I didn’t organize. I just moved.

I found my old boots in the back of the closet and yanked them on. Threw on a coat. Stuffed my last bit of money into my jacket.

I stood in the middle of the room and looked around one last time.

All the lies.

All the torment.

All the moments I had tried to convince myself that I could endure this place just a little longer—just until the deal with Ellison was done.

But now?

That deal was shattered.

I knew people like him. He wouldn’t care about the truth behind those pictures. He’d only care about how it looked. About how it reflected on him.

He was going to throw me out like a trash when he sees those pictures.

So I beat him to it.