Erica POV:
Two days later.
The procedure was scheduled for this morning. I had one night left in the apartment I used to call home.
The Lycan, whose name I still didn't know, had driven me back. He hadn't said a word, but his presence was a shield against the world. He waited in the car downstairs. I could feel his golden eyes watching the building.
I walked into the penthouse apartment. It was dark.
I clutched the small velvet bag in my hand. It contained the amulet with Grandma's ashes. It was heavy, warm, and the only thing I had left.
"You're late," a sickly sweet voice said.
The lights flicked on.
Bianca was sitting on the sofa. My sofa. She was wearing one of Anthony's shirts, her bare legs draped over the armrest.
"What are you doing here?" I asked, my voice trembling with exhaustion.
"Marking my territory," she smirked. She stood up and walked toward me. She smelled of expensive perfume and rot. "Anthony gave me the key code. He said I could redecorate."
"Get out," I said.
"Make me," she challenged.
Suddenly, she threw herself backward, crashing into the coffee table. She let out a piercing scream.
"Help! Anthony! She's attacking me!"
The bedroom door flew open. Anthony stormed out, his chest bare, wearing only sweatpants.
He saw Bianca on the floor, clutching her arm, and me standing over her.
He didn't ask questions. He didn't look at my tear-stained face or my wet clothes.
"Kneel!"
The Alpha Command slammed me into the floorboards again. My chin hit the wood hard. I tasted blood.
"She tried to hit me, Ant!" Bianca sobbed, squeezing out fake tears. "She's jealous! She's crazy!"
"You are a rabid dog," Anthony growled, walking over to me. He grabbed me by the hair and dragged me up. "I think you need a time-out."
"No," I gasped, panic rising in my throat. "Anthony, please. Not the closet."
He knew. He knew about my claustrophobia. He knew that when Bianca framed me in college, the other students had locked me in a janitor's closet filled with silver dust for six hours. It was where my wolf had gone into a coma.
"You need to learn your place," Anthony said coldly.
He dragged me down the hallway. I clawed at his arm, but he was an Alpha. I was nothing.
He opened the door to the storage closet. It was tiny, unventilated, and dark.
He threw me inside.
"Anthony, please!" I screamed. "I can't breathe in there! Please!"
"Think about what you've done to my Luna," he said.
The door slammed shut. The lock clicked.
Darkness swallowed me whole.
My breath hitched. The walls felt like they were closing in. The air grew hot and stale instantly.
Let me out! Let me out!
I pounded on the door until my knuckles bled.
"Anthony!" I shrieked.
Outside, I heard Bianca giggle. "Oh, Ant, you're so strong. Come back to bed."
"Let her rot for a bit," Anthony's muffled voice replied.
Footsteps faded away.
I slid down the door, curling into a tight ball. My chest heaved, but no air seemed to enter my lungs. The phantom smell of silver dust filled my nose.
My mind started to fracture.
I clutched the velvet bag with Grandma's ashes to my chest.
"I hate them," I whispered into the darkness.
The love I had held for Anthony, the confusion I felt for Emmanuel... it all curdled. It turned black and thick.
In the silence of that closet, something inside me shifted. Not my body—my wolf was still asleep. But my soul.
The weak, pleading Erica died in that darkness.
I sat there for hours, staring at nothing, listening to the silence of the pack that had abandoned me.
When I get out of here, I thought, my eyes dry and burning. I will burn this pack to the ground.
