Chapter Thirty-five

POV The Trap

The forest pulsed with menace. Wolves ringed the clearing, their growls low and hungry, eyes gleaming gold in the darkness. In the center stood Derrick — broad, scarred, and terrifyingly calm.

“Welcome home, Kimberly,” he said again, his voice smooth as silk and twice as dangerous.

I shifted Louis gently to the ground, my shadows curling protectively around him. “Home?” I spat, my voice low. “You destroyed that word the night you rejected me.”

Derrick chuckled, stepping closer, his eyes burning with that old, cruel amusement. “You were weak then. Foolish. You begged me to love you. Tell me—do you still beg?”

I straightened, blood drying on my hands, the shadows pulsing in time with my heart. “No. I don’t beg anymore.”

The wolves tensed, but Derrick lifted a hand, silencing them. “I see the darkness in you now,” he said, studying me with hungry curiosity. “Lucien’s gift, isn’t it? You smell of him. Tainted. Corrupted.”

His voice dropped, venom soft and deadly. “You let him touch you, didn’t you? You let the Shadow King play his games with my mate.”

I laughed—a short, bitter sound. “Mate? You threw that bond away. Remember?”

Derrick’s expression flickered, a flash of anger breaking through the façade. “I did what I had to. You were too soft, too human. You would’ve dragged me down.”

“I was loyal,” I snapped, the ground trembling beneath my feet as shadows flared around me. “I would have died for you, Derrick. And you killed me instead.”

His eyes darkened. “I made you strong.”

“No,” I said, stepping closer, my voice trembling but steady. “I made me strong. You just gave me a reason.”

A growl rippled through the circle of wolves. The tension in the air thickened, the scent of wolfsbane sharp and bitter.

Derrick smirked. “You think you can fight me? I made you what you are. You’ll always be mine, Kimberly. You can dress it in shadows, wrap it in defiance—but you belong to me.”

I felt my wolf snarl, every muscle coiled. The shadows whispered, begging to strike. But I stood still, letting the silence stretch.

Then I smiled. “If I belong to anyone, it’s to the woman who rose from what you tried to bury.”

Derrick’s growl shattered the quiet. “Kill her!”

The wolves lunged.

I moved before thought, shadows bursting from my body like wings of night. My blades formed instantly—half silver, half black. The first wolf reached me and fell before he could blink, his body dissolving into dust and darkness.

The second came from behind. I turned, slicing clean through the air. The shadows flared, wrapping around him and dragging him into the ground.

Louis stirred weakly, eyes barely open, watching me through the chaos.

“Kim… stop…” he whispered. “They’ll kill you—”

“I’ve already died once,” I whispered back.

Derrick roared, his aura exploding outward, knocking the remaining wolves aside. His eyes glowed red as he shifted partially—claws extended, fangs bared. “Enough!”

The ground cracked beneath his feet as he charged.

Our collision shook the clearing. His claws met my blades, sparks of silver and black igniting between us. He was stronger—he’d always been stronger—but I was faster now, deadlier. My wolf and shadows moved as one, guiding every motion, every breath.

“You think Lucien’s darkness will save you?” Derrick snarled, forcing me back. “He’ll destroy you the same way I almost did.”

I gritted my teeth, pushing back, shadows wrapping around his arm. “No,” I hissed. “He forged me. But you made me.”

I twisted sharply, breaking free and slashing across his chest. Blood sprayed the ground, glowing faintly in the moonlight. Derrick staggered, his hand flying to the wound, eyes wide.

For the first time, I saw something in them I never had before.

Fear.

He recovered quickly, his snarl tearing through the night. “You’ll regret this, Kimberly. You’ll regret ever defying me.”

“Maybe,” I said softly, stepping closer. “But not tonight.”

He swung again, claws flashing—but I vanished into the shadows, reappearing behind him. My blade pressed against his throat, the shadows wrapping around his body like serpents.

The pack froze.

Derrick went still, his breath harsh.

“Yield,” I whispered.

He laughed, low and broken. “You don’t have the heart.”

I leaned closer, my voice like ice. “You’re right. I lost that the night you shattered it.”

Then I slashed—not deep enough to kill, but enough to mark him, blood spilling in a crimson arc across the dirt.

The shadows recoiled back into me as I stepped away.

“Next time,” I said, eyes glowing faintly, “I don’t miss.”

And before he could move, I was gone—vanishing into the forest, Louis in my arms, the night swallowing me whole.

Behind us, Derrick’s roar of rage shook the trees.

And for the first time in years, I didn’t feel afraid of the sound.

I felt free.