Kimberly POV:
Waking up felt like I’d been hollowed out with a rusty spoon. My qi, my essence, was dangerously low. My White Wolf was comatose.
I checked the chart. They had taken a kidney and a liter of spinal fluid. Essence harvesting.
Three days had passed.
I ripped the IVs out. I didn't care about the blood. I had to leave before they came back for seconds.
I took a cab to the penthouse. The smell of Alex’s victory—strawberries and my own stolen power—was suffocating.
She was on the sofa, glowing. Literally glowing. My essence was keeping her young.
"You survived," she said, disappointed. "Your blood is potent, Kim. I feel like a goddess."
Graves walked in from the balcony, wearing swim trunks. "You should be in the hospital."
"I'm here for my things."
"Graves, baby," Alex cooed, brushing past him. "Let's swim."
She threw herself into the pool. She splashed pathetically. "Help! My cramps!"
It was a performance a toddler would find insulting. But Graves dove in like a golden retriever.
He hauled her out. "You stood there?" he accused me. "You’d let her drown?"
"She's a werewolf, Graves. We don't drown in four feet of water."
"Get out," he spat. "You’re a monster."
Something inside me finally died. The last ember of hope.
I walked to the terrace. Below lay the garden of Moon Orchids I’d planted for our wedding.
I summoned the last dregs of my void magic.
Burn.
White fire erupted from my palm. The garden incinerated instantly, turning to ash.
"Consider it a divorce gift," I said to the glass.
I grabbed the cooler box from under the floorboards—my frozen child—and walked out. I didn't look back.
