Chapter 8: Something To Die For

RIVER

The paper crumpled beneath my fingers before I threw it to the floor. 

It joined a dozen other balls of failed words scattered across the rug. I had been at it for hours, trying to string together a goodbye that made sense, something that would make my existence feel a little less pathetic but every sentence looked empty.

Maybe there were no right words. Maybe nothing I could write would ever fix the damage I’d caused.

Frustration burned hot in my chest making me grab the notebook and pen I’d been using and in a fit of anger, I hurled them across the living room. They fell to the floor of the empty living room in a clatter.

Still not done, still a scream ripped from my throat, so raw and broken it felt like it tore my lungs apart. My whole body shook, trembling with rage, despair, and exhaustion. It was long and hard like a wail and it echoed through the hollow house until my voice gave out.

Collapsing onto the floor, I dug my fingers into my hair, gripping it tight as bitter sobs wracked through me. Tears blurred my vision, soaking my cheeks, falling hot onto my hands.

My father and Raven were gone in an hour leaving a hollow house behind. I tried calling Paloma but she didn’t pick up. 

No one cared. Not Paloma. Not Raven. Not my father. No one would miss me so who was I really leaving a note behind for?

My sobs slowed until silence settled heavily around me. Slowly, my eyes, swollen and aching, lifted toward the noose hanging from the ceiling. I had put it there as soon as my father and brother left..

Refusing to cry anymore, I wiped my face with the back of my hand, leaving streaks of salt and dampness across my skin. My chest ached with every breath, but a strange calm began to creep in, smoothing over the jagged edges of my pain.

No more screaming. No more crying. No more hurting.

With that, I pushed myself to my feet, my legs unsteady but determined.

No one deserved a goodbye.

Crossing the room, I dragged a chair beneath the noose. The scrape of wood against the floorboards sounded like the last drumbeat of my life. My hands shook as I gripped the chair back, staring at the rope above me.

This was it.

I was ready.

Then my phone buzzed. The vibration cutting through the silence, sharp and jarring.

I froze, staring at the glow from the screen where it lay on the sofa. My breath caught in my throat, my pulse stumbling.

For a long moment, I didn’t move. Part of me wanted to ignore it, to climb the chair and finish what I started but my body seemed to move on its own, my feet carrying me slowly toward the sound.

I reached for it with trembling hands, heart pounding as if the universe itself had pressed pause, holding its breath to see if I’d answer. My chest rose and fell unevenly as I swiped the phone open.

It wasn’t a call. It was a news alert.

Breaking News: The Fae Fox has struck again. Five children taken in the dead of night. The Royal Family has issued a hefty bounty for his capture and promised the highest honor to whoever kills him.

The words blurred as my pulse quickened and my breath hitched.

The Fae Fox.

In a flash, I was a little girl again, the smell of rain and blood in the air, the sting of claws raking across my face. My mother’s voice, desperate and trembling, echoed in my ears.

Then his words came back, sharp as knives.

“One day, you will find me, to avenge your mother. I can see it in your eyes. But you better be tougher than your mother, or I swear I’ll give you a fate worse than hers.”

The phone slipped from my fingers and landed on the floor with a dull thud. Suddenly. something clicked inside me. Something that stirred as softly as my wolf.

If I was going to end my life… then this would be the way. Not with a rope. Not in silence. But in battle. If I had to die, I’d die fighting the monster who destroyed my family. At least then my existence would mean something. At least then, the Scarrow name could be remembered for honor, not shame.

And if I was lucky, maybe I’d see my mother again on the other side.

Hours passed in a blur as my body moved on instinct while I stuffed what little I owned into a tattered bag. They were mostly clothes, a little savings, and an old dagger I’d kept hidden under my bed. I zipped the bag shut with shaking hands, determination and fear twisting together in my chest.

I had no idea how I was going to complete my mission but now I had a purpose. I had something to die for.

Stepping into the living room, I was ready to leave but then my feet came to an abrupt stop.

In shock, my bag slid from my fingers, thudding to the floor.

Standing in the center of the room was Densmore, his tall frame filling the silence, his skin glowing faintly in the late afternoon light. His dark curls fell into his eyes but it wasn’t just his presence that rooted me in place.

It was what he held.

One of the crumpled notes from the floor.

His gaze lifted from the paper to the noose still hanging from the ceiling, then finally to me and the moment his eyes clashed with mine, my stomach twisted in fear and yearning.

Densmore's eyes were unreadable, but the weight of them pinned me to the spot, stealing the air from my lungs. Immediately, heat flooded my face and shame burned so deep within me that I wished the floorboards would open and swallow me whole.

I couldn’t move. Couldn’t speak. The truth hung in the air between us, naked and humiliating.

And in that moment, I wished the ground would open up and swallow me whole.