My eyes flutter open for the second time, and I find myself in an unfamiliar surroundings, greeted by bright white lights that pierce through the haze of confusion. The sterile scent of antiseptic fills the air, carrying with it the distant echoes of hurried footsteps and muffled voices. Sitting up on the bed, I take in my surroundings, my brows furrowing as I realize I’m in what appears to be a hospital room. The walls are a muted shade of blue, adorned with framed landscapes that seem to try and inject a sense of calm into the clinical atmosphere. The faint hum of machinery provides a constant backdrop to the scene, punctuated by occasional beeps and whirs.
The sight of the hospital gown draped over me confirms my suspicions, its fabric thin. But it’s the heart monitor beside my bed that drives home the reality of my situation, its rhythmic blips and spikes serving as a tangible link to the fragility of life.
“You’re finally awake,” a voice says from the opposite direction, and my head whips toward the sound to see Alex walking toward me. His appearance is disheveled, with bags under his eyes and an air of exhaustion hanging around him.
“Where am I?” I croak, my voice rough from disuse. I notice a pitcher and glass nearby and move to pour myself some water, but Alex beats me to it.
“Sky Pack hospital,” he answers, handing me the glass, which I promptly down in one gulp.
“How did I get here?” I inquire, returning the glass to him.
Alex swallows hard, loosening his tie before speaking. I watch him closely, wondering why he seems hesitant to answer.
“Jason rescued you from the rouges,” he finally replies, his voice strained. “He found it odd how you just ran off and put out a search for you immediately.”
“I see,” I respond, nodding slowly, my mind reeling with the implications of Jason’s involvement. I should thank him once I see him.
“How are you feeling? Do you feel pain anywhere?” Alex asks, his concern palpable as he looks over me. I simply stare at him, the last scene in the rogue cell, before I pass out, replaying in my mind.
“Should I get the doctor?” he suggests, moving closer to me. I instinctively shift away, a surge of anger and betrayal coursing through me.
“I will get the doctor,” he says, heading towards the door, ignoring my reaction.
“Why didn’t you pick me?” I finally voice the question that has been haunting me since I saw him. He halts at the door but doesn’t turn to face me.
“I asked you a damn question,” I bark, my voice trembling with emotion.
“Alice has always been weaker than you. She isn’t as strong as you are and…” he starts to explain, but I cut him off.
“Shut up,” I interrupt, my anger boiling over.
“Hai…” he begins again, but I cut him off once more.
“Get out!” I scream, tears welling up in my eyes. I have no patience to listen to any excuses or justifications from him.
“Hai…” Alex begins again, but before he can say anything else, I cut him off with a vehement yell.
“Get the fuck out!” I shout, my frustration and anguish pouring out of me as I hurl the pitcher in his direction. It misses him by inches, crashing against the wall with a loud thud.
“I will be outside,” he responds quietly, his voice tinged with sadness. I turn away from him, the tears flowing freely down my cheeks, staining the pillow beneath me.
“Just let me know if you need anything,” he adds softly before leaving, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing in the room. Left alone with my pain and turmoil, I bury my face in the pillow, sobbing uncontrollably, feeling utterly abandoned and betrayed by the one person I thought I could trust.
More tears flow from my eyes, my shoulders shaking with sobs. I feel utterly betrayed by Alex’s actions. How could he choose Alice over me, his fucking mate? Despite being battered and bruised, I should have been his first priority, not her. I’m done with him. Completely done.
***
The following days pass in a blur. Despite the doctor’s concerns, I quickly heal from my injuries, grateful that silver wasn’t used in the beating. As the joint training sessions draw to a close, I throw myself into the last few sessions with fervor, pushing myself to the limit and focusing solely on getting stronger.
Throughout it all, I avoid Alex like the plague, unable to bear being in his presence after his betrayal. Every moment spent near him feels like a betrayal of my own sense of self-preservation. Instead, I pour all my energy into my training, channeling my anger and frustration into becoming stronger, fitter, and more capable.
If someone were to observe my intense training regimen from an outside perspective, they might easily mistake it for preparation to confront and potentially exact revenge on the man who hurt me. And honestly, they wouldn’t be entirely wrong. While I’m focused on improving myself physically and mentally, a part of me harbors a deep-seated desire for justice, for retribution against the one who hurt me.
The idea of facing him, of making him pay for hurting me, holds a certain allure. And if circumstances were to ever lead me to cross paths with him again, I wouldn’t hesitate to stand up for myself and fight back with every ounce of strength and resilience I’ve cultivated through my training.
I wipe the sweat from my brow as I make my way toward the pack house before I head home, my muscles still tingling from the intensity of the training session. The prospect of a hot shower beckons, promising relief from the physical exertion of the day.
Stepping into the guest room that Luna Marley graciously offered me to use, I feel a sense of gratitude for her understanding and support during this challenging time. She didn’t pry or ask too many questions when I requested a separate room from Alex, sensing the growing distance between us and intuitively recognizing my need for space to process my emotions and thoughts.
I step into the soothing cascade of the shower, letting the warm water wash away the day’s grime. As I lather up, my thoughts drift to the decision I made a few days ago, its weight heavy on my mind. Despite the uncertainty and apprehension that accompanies it, I know deep down that it’s the right choice for me.
Exiting the bathroom, I wrap a towel around my body, my mind still consumed by the weight of my decision. However, my thoughts are abruptly interrupted by the sight of Alex entering the room. Confusion clouds my features as I wonder why he’s here, especially after I made it clear that I wanted space.
“I know what we agreed on. I just wanted to remind you that our engagement ceremony is around the corner and wanted to know if you were ready,” he says, his voice breaking through the silence.
“I am, but I have a condition,” I reply, my tone firm as I retrieve a piece of paper from my bag.
“A condition?” Alex echoes, his brow furrowing in confusion.
“Sign the contract, and we’re good,” I state bluntly, walking past him into the closet to get dressed.
“Sign the contract? What the hell are you talking about, Hannah?” he demands, following me into the walk-in closet.
“I believe you know how to read. Read it, and you’ll fucking understand,” I retort, frustration evident in my voice as I emerge from the closet, already dressed, and head out of the room.
Leaving Alex standing there, bewildered and confused, I can’t bring myself to care about his feelings at the moment. All I know is that I need to stand firm in my decision and take control of my own destiny, regardless of the consequences.