Chapter 6

Evelyn's POV

The 1.2-mile drive was short, and the Hummer pulled smoothly to a stop at the entrance of the apartment complex.

I held out two thousand dollars. He didn't even look at it. "Keep it. It was just a ride."

I put the money away. Before I got out, I said, "This storm could knock out power and water. Stock up while you still can."

Pushing open the car door, I ran into the complex, raindrops pelting down.

I stepped out of the elevator, soaked to the skin. Hans and Tamara stood outside my apartment. They had clearly been waiting for a while.

Hans's face was dark with barely contained anger, while Tamara wore an innocent expression. Her white dress stood out starkly against the dim hallway.

"What took you so long?" Hans demanded. "We've been waiting half an hour."

The thought of them working together to push me into a zombie horde flashed through my mind. My stomach churned.

This time, they wouldn't get away with it. They'd have to suffer every bit of despair I had experienced before.

I pulled out my keys. "What do you want?"

Before rebirth, I had always been at their mercy. Now, it seemed Hans still wasn't used to my new attitude.

"It's my birthday. Why didn't you show up?"

"Why would I? We're not close."

"You…" Hans's face stiffened.

In his eyes, I was still the one who had been chasing him, offering to give him a birthday present. Of course, I knew he wasn't after the gift; it was Tamara's ulterior motive.

Tamara looked me over and smiled. "Hey, sweetie."

"Don't call me that. I don't know you."

Her smile stiffened. "It's Hans's birthday. We're all in the same pack. What's wrong with celebrating together?"

I rolled my eyes. "Did you miss the part where I said we aren't friends? His birthday isn't my problem."

Hans's temper flared. "What the hell is wrong with you?"

I let out a humorless laugh. "She's wearing your ring, but you keep chasing me. Are you trying to become the first wolf in Ironthorn Pack with two mates?"

"Don't make things up!" Hans shouted as he pulled Tamara away.

Tamara dug in her heels. "Evelyn, the rain's getting bad. Can I stay here tonight?"

"Not a chance. Go back to the eighth floor."

"Watch your tone," Hans warned.

"Make me."

Hans tried to drag Tamara away, but her gaze locked on my neck. Greed flashed in her eyes. "That pendant is gorgeous. Where did you get it? Can I see it?"

My hand stilled. I looked her straight in the eye. "Want it?"

Her eyes lit up. "Can I have it? Please?"

In truth, the moment the moonstone became permanently bound to my storage space, its glow dimmed, becoming just an ordinary moonstone.

So, with both of them looking stunned, I threw the moonstone pendant onto the ground. Then, I lifted my foot and crushed it underfoot.

Crack!

A sharp crack echoed through the quiet hallway, and the moonstone pendant shattered into a pile of glittering shards.

Tamara let out a startled cry, her eyes wide with disbelief and resentment as she stared at the scattered pieces on the floor.

"You're insane!" Hans roared, pointing at me.

My wolf pushed forward, sick of them both. "Get out before I rip your arms off."

Hans gritted his teeth, dragging Tamara—who looked like she'd seen a ghost—out of the room in a hurry.

I gave them one last hard look, then unlocked the heavy steel door and shut it behind me. That should keep the pests out.

The house was quiet inside. I couldn't wait to open the package from the delivery. The arctic survival suit felt heavy in my hands; its inner lining of thick down made me feel instantly warm.

The mummy sleeping bags were sewn from multiple layers of high-density down. They would keep me alive even at ninety-four below zero.

I didn't waste time. I filled several large plastic buckets with water. I even filled the bathtub inside my storage space.

Outside, the storm raged on, but inside, I worked feverishly in the kitchen. I baked bread, fried pancakes… I worked tirelessly until well past midnight before stopping.

After a hot shower, I fell into a deep sleep.

I didn't know how long I slept. Then the harsh whine of a drill jolted me awake.

I cautiously pulled back the curtain. Outside, the sky was still dark and stormy, with rain pouring down like a waterfall.

Checking my phone, it was already around 9:00 AM.

The notifications wouldn't stop. Everyone was talking about the Category 5 hurricane the media had nicknamed "the Cleaver." But as more videos and photos spread, excitement gave way to fear.

The drill kept grinding next door. Beneath the noise, I thought I heard a little girl crying.