I was tired.
Hanging on wasn’t so worth it anymore. Jessy was right, dying would be hell itself. I was tired of not dying. Tired of each breath being painful. Every deep breath I took shifted the position of the knife. My illusions still felt alive. I didn’t know what was real anymore.
Maybe I’d already died and this was my new hell. Waiting to die forever.
The air pressed against me was damp. I lay on the forest floor, wrapped in dry leaves and death branches. The forest was dark, in the far distance, there was the sound of music and laughter.
Was I imagining that too?
Every faint rustle, every snap of a twig, sharpened my senses, quickening my pulse. I was alone, stranded in a forest that felt alive, lurking with threats I couldn’t name. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat louder in the heavy silence, drowning out any attempt to stay calm. Why had I trusted her? How could I have been so naive, thinking escape was possible?
A figure took shape at the edge of my vision, rising from the shadows as if summoned by my despair. Was this death, or the devil himself? Whoever it was, I just wanted a quick death.
The masked man.
He came out of nowhere. I recognized him. My one night stand from the party. The man who I’d dreamt off yesterday. The one I wanted to kiss, touch and get naked again.
The press of his lips, the memory of his hands-phantoms now, conjured from a place I’d buried. I hated myself for the questions that lingered: who was he, and why did his touch feel like a promise of something more? Why was everything about him so electric.
Was this real?
“Go ahead, end me. I’ve face my worst fears already. This is nothing.” I cursed at him as he approached. How ironic that my worst fear would turn out to be him. This morning, I’d wondered, ” Could a man ever accept the broken woman that I am?”
My wolf answered that question by convincing me that him, the man in the mask, had accepted me. Even though our night had no stings attached, he hadn’t looked at me with judgement or disgust. He had accepted me.
Yet here he was, a haunting reality or a cruel trick of poison-fueled visions.
As he stepped forward, my instincts screamed to run, yet my body betrayed me, rooted in place. His hand reached into his pocket, and for a breathless moment, I imagined another blade glinting there, an end to this nightmare. But instead, he withdrew a vial, small and dark in his hand. “This will help,” he murmured, his voice weaving through my panic like smoke.
Before I could react, his fingers forced my mouth open, pouring the bitter liquid down my throat. It scorched like fire, leaving a metallic tang that made me gag. My body resisted, but a flicker of desperation kept me from pushing him away. He held power over me-a strange comfort and terror combined. Did he care, or was I just another game to him?
Driven by a surge I couldn’t control, I leaned forward, pressing my lips against his. The kiss was a clash of need and fury, each second tasting of bitter medicine and something warmer, deeper. In that instant, everything else faded-the forest, the pain, even my own doubts. His warmth, however fleeting, wrapped around me like armor against the cold.
Then, as I pulled back, gasping, a sharp pain knifed through my abdomen, stealing the breath from my lungs. I looked down, my eyes widening in horror as his hand held Jessy’s dagger, now coated in my blood. The mask that once felt like a shield now glared back at me, a hollow mockery of safety.
His gaze turned dark, an evil glint piercing the mask’s shadows. Without a word, he stepped back, his form slipping away into the night. I watched, helpless, as he disappeared, leaving only the echoes of my own heartbeat and the heavy silence of the forest around me.
I jolted awake, the pain fading, my hands clutching at the empty air. Slowly, my surroundings fell into focus-safe, untouched by the ghostly wounds. Yet the taste of ash lingered on my tongue, bitter and real, an anchor to the truth of my nightmare.
The moon’s light poured over me in silver, it felt like every step forward had an energy of it’s own. Like my sister had become my shadow.
My fingers tightened around the cool metal of Eloise’s necklace. I remember when she pushed it into my hand, right before she died. Right before Anna screamed for her mother to come back.
I looked up at the night’s sky. “Thank you, Moon Goddess,” I whispered, my voice breaking. ” I won’t waste this second chance.”
Somehow, I was alive. Nothing more than a miracle. The moon goddess had saved me. Give me a second chance.
I kissed my necklace, closed my eyes a little. Tears tainted my cheeks. With my eyes closed, memories of Eloise pulling me under the water came to vision. Her voice was alive in my head,
(“Roman killed me, thinking it was you. I suffered here. They turned me into a killing machine, a monster. All because of you. My sister. The real monster!”)
What had those words meant, and why would they be part of my fears?
“I will avenge you Eloise.” I muttered under my breath. “I’ll lay down dead bodies and pile them up until Alpha Roman’s tower is nothing but fallen rock and scrubble.”
As I made my way out of the forest, the sounds of laughter and chatter drifted toward me, pulling me from my thoughts. I stepped into the clearing, and the noise abruptly died. All the girls were gathered around the bonfire, dancing, laughing, and celebrating. All eyes turned to me, and Jessy’s face drained of color, her expression one of shock-as if she’d seen a ghost.