Chapter 3

"No!" Air rips from my lungs, body trembling as my eyes fly wide open.

My head won't stop throbbing. The ringing in my ears only makes my hazy vision worse.

“Finally.”

I gasp, turning toward the direction of the groaning voice, but all I can see are silhouettes of two people—one sitting, the other standing.

“Two weeks…” the voice rasps. “...later.”

I wince, moaning in pain.

"What's going on?"

Silence.

My head throbs harder as the hazy vision slowly settles into a perfect image of people I've never seen in my life.

Two pairs of brown eyes observe me with stoic expressions, radiating auras I've never witnessed.

Wolves? Yes.

But more.

Then…

I gasp, throwing my head away from their gaze like a girl gone mad as the realization settles on me.

My eyes!

My eyes!!

Oh goddess, my fucking blue eyes!!!

"Is she stable?"

A mirror.

I need a mirror.

I scramble across the room, head bent to the ground in search of the one thing that will determine the fate of my life.

Whether I get to live or die.

If they ever see my blue eyes then my secret will be revealed. The atrocity of having human blood in me. The monstrosity of being a hybrid.

"Honey, make her calm."

My head remains bent, my eyes scanning across whatever space is left in the room until a sparkle finally catches my gaze. A mirror.

My legs move quicker than they ever have—or I'd have hoped—but my knees fail, and I can only move as fast as my body is willing toward the mirror.

"Enough!" A thunderous boom radiates through the room and in an instant, I am face-to-face with a man with reddened eyes whose hands tighten on my arm.

This is it.

The end.

The anger in his eyes, the disgust. It can only mean one thing.

I close my eyes, heart in my hands as I wait for the inevitable. What I'd always been told would happen to someone like me. What I'd once witnessed.

Brutal death.

But seconds pass and the pressing aura slowly settles, and so do the nails digging into my arms.

My lids flutter open slowly to meet his gaze, still on mine. But different.

I sigh, relief flooding through me.

My contacts must still be intact.

"You are Renna, our daughter, and that is the exchange for your life."

"What?"

"Renna Mortimer." His voice is cold.

"No…" I splutter. "I am—"

"I don't care who you think you are." He cuts me off. "We saved your life and for that, you will be whoever we want you to be."

Perplexed, I stumble back until the back of my knee hits the bed. "Who are you?"

"Your parents."

"No, who the fuck are you people!" The words leave me like a rattle, scared. "And why am I here? Where am I?"

The ache in my head returns with full force, causing me to squint. My knees bend until they hit the cold floor.

It hurts.

Memories crash into me all at once. My masquerade. The branding. The attack.

The commanding voice in my head. My father.

Dad!

My chest caves like a large piece has been carved out of it.

No!

The pain climbs from the crater in my chest, pulling on my throat, pressing behind my eyes until breathing is impossible.

Until my skin turns blue.

My breath hitches, lips parted as I lift my gaze to the couple standing over me.

"I am not Renna." The words fight to form.

The only thing I have left is myself. My identity.

Nothing else. Not my father.

I can't let them take it from me.

"If this is what we've settled on then I'll have them return you to where you were found." His jaw tightens. "The way you were found."

"Bloodied, filthy and closer to the afterlife." The woman speaks. "Don't think of us as good Samaritans."

"Roger!" The man calls and in an instant, a hefty man fills the doorway.

His face is tattered with scars spreading across his skin—the face of a man who devours. And by the bloodthirsty look in his eyes, I am his next victim.

"We'll send a letter to defer the admission at Quill Ascendancy."

Quill?

My fingers turn cold.

The man turns away, signalling to the brute. "Get her!"

"Wait!" I yell at the top of my lungs, breath falling in spurts.

Quill.

That was the name my father called him. The man whose son took everything I had away from me.

Is this the second chance I prayed for?

They both return their glacial gazes to me, assessing.

"Why do you need me to be your daughter?"

"You don't question us." The woman replies. "When the time is right, you'll know."

She continues. "All that is needed of you is to attend Quill Ascendancy in the capital as our daughter. A school where only the nobles of nobles can dream of attending."

"A school made for the point-one percent elites. A privilege to even mention its name."

"Will the son of Quill be there?"

"That is none of your concern." The man cuts in. "Your job isn't to get close to him."

But there's a chance I'll be near him.

That's enough.

"A job you won't be getting." He turns away as the scarred man draws nearer.

"No!" My voice ruptures from within me, my eyes wide with a feeling I can't quite name.

Desperation?

Relief?

"And why is that?" Mrs Mortimer asks.

Slowly, I rise back to my feet, my eyes following the two pairs of brown eyes staring back at me. Waiting for a decision.

"Because I am your daughter." I swallow.

"Renna Mortimer."