Chapter 4

When I woke again, I was lying in a guest room in the estate.

Kane sat by the bed, a towel in his hand, drying my wet hair.

The room was heated, but the chill radiating from him was heavier than the snow outside.

"Awake?" He tossed the towel into a basin. "Are you going to lay hands on Ivy again?"

I stared at the ceiling. I didn't even have the strength to argue.

The door opened. Ivy walked in carrying a tray.

"Kane, I made hot soup..." She glanced at me timidly, her eyes reddening. "Selena, I know you hate me. But you broke the pack's rules. I still hope you'll apologize properly to Kane and the elders."

"Save your fake sympathy." I propped myself up against the bed, my voice hoarse.

Kane shot to his feet. "Do you have to talk like that?"

Ivy seemed startled. She took a step forward with the tray, her wrist tilted, and the cup of scalding soup poured straight toward my face.

I turned instinctively to dodge.

Kane moved fast, pulling Ivy into his arms and blocking the splashing soup with his own arm.

The pot hit the carpet and shattered.

"Alpha!" The soldiers outside rushed in. Seeing the scene, one of them kicked me hard in the knee without a word.

I grunted and dropped to one knee on the carpet full of glass shards.

"Selena! You tried to scald Kane!" Ivy screamed, pointing at me and shouting at the soldier. "She's insane! Shoot her! Kill this lunatic!"

The soldier actually drew his sidearm.

"Stop." Kane endured the pain in his arm, shielding Ivy behind him, and looked down at me. "The ceremony tomorrow proceeds as planned. Lock her in here until it begins."

As Ivy followed Kane out, she glanced back at me. Her eyes were full of the venom of a victor.

She mouthed the words: You lose.

The door was locked from the outside.

I leaned against the bed and watched the snow outside stop falling as the sky turned pale gray.

My phone buzzed.

It was the email confirming the pass was active, and the flight information for eight the next morning.

I stood, twisted the bedsheet into a rope, and climbed down from the fifth-floor balcony into the shadow of the back garden.

The front of the estate was already lined with wedding cars. The family elders were clustered around Ivy, resplendent in her bridal attire.

No one noticed the figure with simple luggage slipping out the back.

I walked out the estate's main gate and flagged down a taxi I'd booked in advance.

"To the airport," I told the driver.

The car pulled onto the road.

Through the rearview mirror, I watched the estate that symbolized the pack's highest power shrink into the distance.

Kane's Rolls-Royce pulled up right at the end of the red carpet.

He wore the sharpest black formal attire, a bouquet of red roses in his hand.

He stepped out of the car and walked toward the bride in the white veil, whose figure resembled mine.

He thought it was me.

The taxi turned a corner and left it all behind.