Erica POV:
Three days passed in a blur of recovery. My body was healing at a rate that baffled the nurses, knitting bone and tissue together overnight. I knew it wasn't normal, but I didn't question it. I needed to be strong.
I woke up to the rhythmic beeping of a machine. My throat felt like I had swallowed a handful of razor blades. The lingering taste of metallic poison coated my tongue.
I wasn't dead. The waiter had saved me.
I opened my eyes. Anthony was standing by the window, checking his watch. He didn't look relieved. He looked annoyed.
"Finally," he said, not turning around. "The doctor said it was just a severe allergic reaction. You always were dramatic."
"It was Wolfsbane," I rasped. My voice was a broken whisper.
"Don't be ridiculous," Anthony snapped, turning to face me. "Why would there be Wolfsbane in the pack house kitchen? It was probably just bad shellfish. Stop trying to frame Bianca for your weak constitution."
I stared at him. The man I had loved for years. The man whose child I had just removed from my body so it wouldn't be murdered by him. He was blind. Willfully blind.
"Where is my bag?" I asked. "The velvet bag."
"I don't know," he waved a hand dismissively. "The cleaners probably took it. Listen, Erica. The coronation is tomorrow. I don't want you making a scene. You stay here until—"
"My grandmother's ashes were in that bag!" I screamed, sitting up. The movement tore at my abdominal stitches, but I didn't care.
"It was just dust," Anthony said coldly. "Get over it."
I ripped the IV out of my arm. Blood trickled down my skin, but the pain was nothing compared to the panic rising in my chest.
I pushed past him. He didn't stop me; he just sighed like I was a tantrum-throwing toddler.
I ran down the hallway. My wolf senses were dull, but I knew where Bianca would be. The VIP suite. The best room in the hospital.
I burst through the double doors.
Bianca was sitting up in bed, looking the picture of health. She was filing her nails. On the bedside table, next to a vase of roses, sat my velvet bag.
She smiled when she saw me. It was a predator's smile.
"Looking for this?" she asked, picking up the bag.
"Give it to me," I growled.
Her eyes flashed. Suddenly, her voice echoed in my head.
It's pathetic, really, she Mind-Linked me. You actually thought you could win? I poisoned the food in college. I poisoned your soup today. And Anthony still chose me.
"You admit it," I said aloud, my hands shaking.
Who is going to believe a latent wolf over the future Luna? she projected, her mental voice dripping with amusement. You are nothing, Erica. Just like this old hag.
She stood up and walked to the open window.
"No," I whispered. "Bianca, don't."
She held the bag over the ledge. We were on the fourth floor. The wind was howling outside.
Oops, she linked.
She turned the bag upside down.
A grey cloud puffed out into the air. My grandmother. The woman who raised me when my parents died in the border wars. The only person who ever loved me.
The wind caught the ash. It swirled for a second, a grey ghost in the sunlight, and then it was gone. Scattered into nothingness.
A primal scream tore from my throat.
I didn't think. I didn't care about rank or laws. I launched myself at her.
My fingers curled into claws. I slammed into her, knocking her back against the window sill. I wanted to tear her throat out with my human teeth if I had to.
"Help!" Bianca shrieked, instantly going limp. "She's killing me!"
Strong arms grabbed me from behind.
It wasn't one person. It was two.
Anthony and Emmanuel had rushed in. They hauled me off her.
"She's crazy!" Bianca sobbed, sliding to the floor and curling into a ball. "I was just getting some fresh air and she attacked me!"
"Murderer!" I screamed, thrashing in their grip. "She threw her! She threw Grandma!"
"Enough!" Anthony roared.
He didn't use the Alpha Command, but his aura exploded outward. It was a physical wave of dominance. It hit me like a sledgehammer.
My knees buckled. I stopped fighting, not because I wanted to, but because the air had been sucked out of the room by his power.
I looked at the empty velvet bag on the floor.
My soul felt like it had been ripped in two.
I looked up at Anthony. His eyes were hard. Cold. There was no love there. There never had been.
I stopped screaming. I went completely still.
"She's gone," I whispered.
Anthony released me, looking at me with disgust. "You have lost your mind, Erica."
