#Chapter 3: Going Viral

Isla's POV

If these were Adrian's men, I wasn't going to stay around and wait for them to capture me. Heart in my throat, fear pulsing through my veins, I turned to run –

And bumped straight into Martha.

Marth was the motel owner who had helped take care of me after my escape years ago. Now, she was my friend and neighbor.

"Careful now," she said, then took me by the shoulders to help steady me. Even after my running into her, she was still smiling until she saw my face. Then concern washed over hers. "Are you okay? What happened?"

"I just… I'm not…" It was difficult for me to formulate words with my adrenaline pumping so hard and terror gripping my throat. "I saw the crowd… and I…"

"Oh? Is it the crowd that frightened you?" Martha asked. When I didn't deny it, she laughed. "There's no need to be scared, Isla. These people are just customers!"

Martha's good humor helped calm my racing heart somewhat, enough for me to think and form sentences again. "I don't… So many… The bakery isn't usually this busy…"

"I know, but isn't it wonderful? I must confess this is my doing," Martha said. "I have a surprise for you."

Martha opened her phone, then went to the web browser app. A website opened, and I recognized the header as a popular foodie blog, Eats and Stuff. As Martha scrolled down, I saw my bakery mentioned, as well as a few photos of the front of the building, and even one of me smiling.

Martha had taken that picture of me at one of Noah's birthday parties.

"I made a recommendation, and Rose at Eats and Stuff absolutely loved your breads," Martha said excitedly. "The post has gone viral, and a ton of other blogs and articles have picked up on it. You're on the fast track to becoming a celebrity, Isla!"

I didn't know what to think, so I just stared at her, somewhat blankly. I didn't really want to be a celebrity. I didn't need it.

And the bakery already made enough to cover its costs, with enough profit to keep the lights on and food on the plates of Noah and me.

The profits were meager. We weren't going on vacations and we'd never have enough for luxury goods or the fanciest clothes. But we had enough to live on, and that had always been good enough for me.

Though, on the other hand, if I could make a little more money, I could afford to give Noah more.

As he was getting older, there were things he wanted and wanted to do. Even joining sports clubs costs money, and an energetic kid like Noah should be able to play baseball if he wanted to.

Martha moved so that her hand was around my shoulder, leading me back towards the crowd. Indecision still gripped my heart.

"This is a good thing," she said. "Think of all the business you'll have."

To the crowd, Martha raised her voice, "The shop owner is here! Who's ready to eat?"

The crowd seemed excited, many of them clapping, a few cheering. As I moved forward to unlock the door, a couple told me, "We've driven three hours to try your bread. I'd never seen Rose praise anything so much!"

After opening the shop, I did my best to serve them, fulfilling their orders with care. I thanked each person for their support and for coming to the shop. I tried to be as friendly as I could be, but inside, more doubts and fears were beginning to bloom.

If the post was going viral… If my picture was on it…

What if Adrian were to see it?

Martha was smiling at the long line in the store. With her phone, she was taking a few pictures, maybe to send to the blog, to showcase my new success.

I wasn't angry. I knew she meant well. If I was any other person and this was any other circumstance, I would probably be thrilled that this happened and be so full of gratitude for her.

Unfortunately, I was still a woman on the run, and drawing attention to myself was the very last thing I wanted to do.

With a break in the line, I walked over to Martha. Quietly, I asked her, "Can the article be taken down?"

Martha looked at me in surprise. "You want it taken down…?"

"The pictures, especially," I said. When Martha looked at me like I had lost my mind, I thought quickly of a little lie. "I don't want the business to grow too big. I like having it mostly be just the locals."

"Ah," Martha said and nodded. "Admittedly, this has blown up even bigger than I thought it would." She paused a moment, as if thinking. "I'll reach out to Rose and see if she can take down the post."

Relieved, I let out a long breath. "Thank you, Martha. For everything."

Adrian's POV

Isla.

On my phone, I stared at the picture of her smiling for the camera.

She hadn't changed much in the past five years. She was no less beautiful than she had been before I knew what a traitor she was. I scrolled from the photo of her face, to the photos of her bakery, and some of the small human town she'd been living in.

It seemed like a quiet place, a quiet life for her.

But she didn't deserve to live so peacefully. Not after what she, her parents, and the rest of the Lycans had done. They ravaged our town. Killed so many, my parents among them.

With my father's death, I became Alpha of my pack much sooner than I should have been.

Yet, here we were, each with our own parts to play.

I was Alpha, and Isla, my former love, was a traitor – one that was finally going to be brought to justice once and for all.

"Are the enforcers there yet?" I asked Gideon, my Beta.

Gideon was the son of the former Gamma couple of the pack, who had also been unfortunate casualties in the Lycan attack five years ago.

Since the attack revealed so many traitors within our own ranks, I didn't trust anyone anymore. Rather than appoint new people to roles within the pack, I elevated trusted members instead. Those who had already proven their loyalty.

Gideon was one of those members, so I raised him to Beta.

"They are on their way, Alpha," Gideon said. "They should be there within the hour."

"Good," I said. "I want to know the moment she is in their custody."

"Yes, Alpha." Gideon hesitated for a moment, glancing away from me. When he looked back, he was a bit bolder. "Sir. Are you certain you don't simply wish for them to kill her and be done with it?"

I scrolled back to her photo and saw her smiling face.

Before the attack, there was nothing I wouldn't have done for her. She was the woman I loved, the one I wanted to marry and bear my children.

Looking at her photo, deep down, I could remember those feelings.

What a gullible fool I had been.

Never again.

Where in the past, my love for her had caused me pain. Over the past few years, I had taught it to only drive my fury instead.

"No, I don't want her killed," I said, my voice carefully blank to hide the simmering rage underneath. "That would be too easy for her, after what she did."

I gripped my phone so hard that the screen started to crack right over her smiling face.

"Bring her back."