Chapter 2

Martha was furious, her face dark with anger, but she still wouldn't give in.

Damien turned his fury back on me, his golden eyes filled with madness.

"Elara, is that what you think, too? You think Isla is a fraud?"

I shook my head, acting terrified. "Of course not! I just—"

"Just what?" his voice was a low growl. "You're just jealous of Isla. Jealous of what we have. You want her dead, don't you?"

He was testing me. Testing to see if I remembered my past life.

I shook my head innocently, as if his words had broken my heart. "Damien, what are you talking about? Why would I want Isla dead? I don't understand."

I played the part of a clueless, innocent victim.

"I'm not jealous of anyone," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I'm just worried about you—"

"Worried?" Damien sneered. "If you were really worried about me, you'd be taking me to Isla right now, not standing here questioning my judgment!"

Martha shot me a pleading look. I knew what she wanted: for me to use my Luna's influence to override his command, just long enough to force treatment on him. It’s what we did last time. I feigned a moment's hesitation, then cautiously moved closer.

But the reborn Damien was ready. Ignoring his own injury, he swiped at me, his wolf's claws flashing. Sharp talons raked across my arm, tearing open three bloody gashes.

"Ah—" I cried out as blood dripped from my arm to the floorboards. Damien had completely lost it. He’d never laid a hand on me like that in our past life. It seemed his madness was worse this time around. Good. The crazier he is, the harder he’ll fall.

"I'm sorry!" I choked back the pain, faking terror as tears streamed down my face. "I'll take you to Moonridge now! Please, just don't hurt me!"

Seeing that Damien was about to lunge at me again and that his wound was only getting worse, Martha had no choice. "Enough! Damien, we'll take you! Your leg can't wait any longer!"

Damien stared at me for a few seconds, making sure my eyes held nothing but fear. Then, he slowly relaxed.

"That's more like it," he said, slumping back onto the bed, completely unconcerned that his injury had worsened. "Let's go. Now."

Ten hours later, I was speeding down the highway in our SUV, heading for Moonridge.

Damien was lying in the back, his face as pale as a corpse. He’d lost so much blood his body temperature was dropping, but he still stubbornly refused to stop at any hospital along the way.

"How much longer?" he asked weakly.

"Another six hours," I said, glancing in the rearview mirror. "Are you sure you don't want to at least stop the bleeding?"

"Don't need to. Isla will handle it."

I fought the urge to roll my eyes. The man was beyond stupid.

Another long night passed. By the time the SUV finally entered the territory of the Moonridge Pack, the sun was rising. I'd been driving for twenty-four hours straight, and my eyes were bloodshot.

But Damien immediately perked up. "Quick, to Isla's clinic."

I followed the GPS to the small clinic. It was less a clinic and more a shabby little house. There wasn't even a proper sign out front.

"Isla!" Damien impatiently dialed her number. "I'm here. Come out and get me!"

Loud music and men's laughter blared from the other end of the line.

"Damien? What are you doing here?" Isla's voice was confused and slurred. "It's not a good time, I'm at a party—"

"A party?" Damien was stunned. "I'm seriously injured! I need you to heal me!"

"Oh, that," Isla said dismissively. "You'll have to wait. The party's not over yet. Marcus just poured me some champagne—Marcus, stop it, I'm on the phone—"

The line went dead.

I sat in the driver's seat, watching Damien's stunned expression. In that moment, a twisted sense of pleasure washed over me.

"Looks like your 'best healer' is busy with another man," I said, my voice dripping with false sympathy. "Maybe we should find a real hospital?"

Damien's face turned ugly, but his jaw was set. "She's just busy. We'll wait."

I fought back a smile. "Of course," I said softly. "We'll wait."

I swallowed the rest of my words:

"I can't wait to see what kind of a mess a 'healer' who couldn't even pass basic herbology will make of you."