Chapter 4

I'd just reached the apartment building with my suitcase when a familiar SUV slowly pulled up to the curb.

The window rolled down, revealing Claude's sharply defined face.

In the passenger seat, Victoria leaned forward, looking surprised.

"Heather? What are you doing in a place like this? Good heavens, how did you get that injury on your forehead?"

They were here to handle the border barrier issues, and the last thing they expected was to run into me.

Claude pushed the door open and stepped out of the car. When his gaze swept over the wound on my temple, his brow furrowed—not with concern, but with disgust and impatience.

"Heather, you're really something. I told you to stay home and reflect properly. Did that just go in one ear and out the other?"

His eyes fell on my suitcase. "You're actually moving out just to avoid apologizing? And you've let yourself go to such a state! You know full well how much I hate being threatened."

My grip on the suitcase handle tightened.

So, to him, my injuries and my blood were always just tactics to gain his attention?

I didn't argue, nor could I be bothered to explain.

Let him think whatever he wanted. After all, he and I were no longer connected.

I picked up the suitcase and turned to head upstairs. With my old wound still unhealed, my arm trembled slightly against my will.

Claude instinctively reached out to help me.

"Oh, dear." Behind us, Victoria suddenly let out a coy exclamation.

Her heel had broken, and she was now half-leaning against the car.

Claude strode over and lifted her into his arms with practiced ease.

"I've told you before not to wear high heels when going out, but you never listen," he said in a tone that carried a fondness he himself hadn't even realized.

Victoria casually wrapped her arms around Claude's neck, her gaze shifting to me.

"Claude, maybe you should put me down. Heather's suitcase looks heavy, and I heard her injury hasn't healed yet. Perhaps you could help her?"

I stopped in my tracks, my back still turned to them. At that moment, I felt as if my heart had stopped beating.

Perhaps out of unwillingness, I was waiting for the man I'd given ten years to might show even a trace of pity.

But there was none.

After a few seconds of silence, Claude's indifferent voice drifted over.

"Don't bother with her. She's just a little hurt—it's not like she's made of glass."

Behind me came the sound of a car door closing, followed by Claude's warning, "Heather, there's a limit to my patience. Move back within tomorrow, or don't bother coming back at all."

I stood frozen at the entrance to the stairwell, staring at the scar on my hand—the one I'd gotten saving him—and suddenly felt that these ten years of persistence had been nothing but a complete and utter joke.

The next morning, I was jolted awake by the sound of someone pounding on my door.

The moment I cracked it open, the nauseating stench of cheap tobacco smoke rushed in.

"You little brat! You made me hunt all over for you!" Dad kicked the door open.

Behind him were Linda and several strange wolves dressed in Blackwater pack's attire. From their scent, they were at least Gamma or higher rank.

I frowned and cautiously took a step back.

The lead wolf looked me up and down. "So, this is your daughter? She's quite a looker. No wonder she's been Moonwing pack's Alpha's bed companion all these years. Too bad she got dumped."

"Yes." Dad nodded eagerly with an obsequious smile. "Sure, Claude's gotten tired of her, but she's healthy and good for breeding. You can have her for five carts of supplies, and I won't go any lower than that."

Listening to them haggle, I stared in disbelief at this so-called father of mine.

"You're selling me to Blackwater pack for five carts of supplies?"

The Blackwater pack was notorious for its brutality. Their Alpha, Colbin Bloodworth, was rumored to be a sadist, and he had tortured more than ten she-wolves to death.

"What do you mean 'selling?'" Linda cut in shrilly. "Alpha Colbin might be old, but his territory's vast. Being with him means living the good life, and it'll score Jax some bargaining chips."

"I won't do it." My chest heaved as I stared coldly at them. "This is my home, and I've already cut ties with you. Now, get out!"

"That's not your decision to make." Dad's expression darkened as he signaled to the Gamma wolves. "Take her away! Just make sure she's delivered alive to Alpha Colbin."

Several wolves lunged at me immediately.

If I were in good health, these brutes wouldn't stand a chance against me. But alas, with my old injuries unhealed and the exhaustion from the past few days, my body was already pushed past its limits.

The wolves charged aggressively, reaching out to seize me by the shoulders.

I sidestepped one grasping hand and countered with a punch straight to another's nose, only for a third wolf to kick me hard in the stomach.

The searing pain made everything go dark. I nearly blacked out, and the wolves seized the chance to pin me down.

"Let's see how you escape now, you worthless mutt!" The lead wolf pulled a chain from his waist, a lecherous grin spreading across his face.

"This chain's been cursed by a witch and is specially designed to deal with unruly she-wolves like you. Once it's on, even a noble Luna has to behave."

Despair and terror washed over me. I closed my eyes.

Was this to be my end? Sold off like livestock, dying in some dark corner somewhere?

"Stop right there!"

Just as the chain was about to touch my neck, a silver streak flashed by.