Ava’s POV
Pain ripped me awake.
It burned across my back, raw, merciless, like the fire had never truly gone out. I gasped, the
sound tearing from my chest before I could stop it, my fingers curling into the sheets as heat
flared through my nerves. Every breath scraped. Every heartbeat sent a fresh surge of agony racing along my spine. The burns throbbed angrily, alive beneath my skin, each pulse a reminder that I had not been meant to survive that night.
I stayed still, jaw clenched, staring into the dark ceiling as sweat cooled against my temples.
The room smelled faintly of smoke and antiseptic. Shadows clung to the corners, heavy and watchful. Somewhere deep in the packhouse, the silence felt deliberate, as if the walls themselves were waiting to see whether I would break.
Then memory surged.
The call.
Magnus Sharpfang.
The image of his name lighting up my phone struck me with brutal clarity. His
voice, controlled, tense, threaded with warning, echoed in my head. My pulse spiked.
Whatever fear had pinned me moments ago shattered instantly, replaced by a sharp urgency enough to cut through the pain.
I forced myself upright.
My body protested violently. Fire exploded across my back, stealing my breath, but I refused to
fall. I pushed through it, staggering toward my room and shutting the door behind me. My hands
shook as I leaned against the wall, grounding myself for a heartbeat before reaching for my
phone.
I dialed.
Once.
Twice.
He answered immediately.
“Ava?” Magnus said. His voice was alert, tight with concern. “What’s wrong?”
The sound of him nearly undid me.
My throat closed. My vision blurred. I swallowed hard, forcing the sobs down before they could
surface. I would not collapse, not now, not when I was finally choosing myself.
“They killed Maribel,” I said. My voice trembled, but the words landed with deadly clarity. “And they planned to erase me next.”
The silence that followed was vast and terrifying.
“They were never going to let me live,” I continued, something cold and resolute locking into
place inside my chest. “Not if I know too much.”
“Ava,” Magnus said quietly.
“I need help,” I cut in, the last remnants of hesitation burning away. “Get me out of here. And
help me ruin Alpha Xavier Blackthorn.”
There was no pause. No question.
“I’m coming,” Magnus replied, his voice turning lethal in its calm. “You have one hour. Be
ready.”
The call ended.
And just like that, the life I had endured split cleanly in two.
I moved on instinct.
Pain faded into background noise as survival took over. I crossed the room and packed quickly,
efficiently, only what mattered. Clothes. Identification. A few things that still felt like me.
Everything else stayed behind. I was done carrying pieces of a life built on fear and obedience.
From the hidden compartment in my drawer, I retrieved the red velvet box.
Inside lay the pregnancy test.
Positive.
Once, it had been hope. A fragile dream I planned to use to save my marriage, proof that I still
mattered, that I still belonged.
Now, it was the truth. Proof of everything Xavier had gambled away.
I closed the box carefully and slipped it into my bag, my hand hovering over my stomach for a
single, fragile heartbeat. Fear flickered there, but it didn’t rule me anymore. Not after everything I had learned. Not everything I had endured.
Next came the folder.
Bond severance papers. Divorce documents.
I had prepared them long ago, the night Liezel returned and tore open wounds I had spent years pretending didn’t exist. Back then, I had been too afraid to leave. Afraid no pack would accept
someone like me. Afraid of becoming nothing.
That fear was gone.
Everything I knew now, every secret, every betrayal, burned the last trace of love from my chest, leaving only fury behind.
Not yet, I promised silently. But soon.
Alpha Xavier Blackthorn would pay.
I left my room without hesitation and walked the familiar corridor to Xavier’s office. Each step
felt lighter than the last. The door creaked softly as I entered.
The room smelled the same: power, arrogance, lies.
I placed the velvet box and the folder neatly on his desk, positioning them where his eyes would
land immediately. Then I reached for a pen and wrote a note, my hand steady despite the storm raging inside me.
I thought I could endure more.
You chose heaven in another woman’s arms.
I choose my safety, and the child inside me.
Goodbye, Alpha.
I slipped my wedding ring from my finger.
The bond it represented had already been shattered by his choices. I set the ring gently on top of
the velvet box, where it belonged, with everything else he had destroyed.
And walked away.
The packhouse was silent as I stepped outside.
Cold night air filled my lungs, sharp and clean, cutting through the haze of pain and smoke.
Freedom tasted like frost and truth. I didn’t look back at the towering structure behind me, not at the place that had promised belonging and delivered only suffering.
I took one step forward.
Then another.
Headlights flared suddenly, slicing through the darkness.
A black Mustang rolled to a stop in front of me, smooth and controlled. The engine hummed
low, dangerous. The driver’s door opened, and Magnus Sharpfang stepped out.
He was night given form.
Power radiated from him effortlessly, pressing into the air without a single word spoken. He
didn’t need to assert dominance, it existed naturally, like gravity. He looked like someone no one challenged lightly.
Not even Alpha Xavier.
And that was enough.
Magnus crossed the distance and helped me into the car with careful hands, his touch precise and
steady. He didn’t ask questions. He didn’t demand explanations. His presence alone felt like
armor settling over my skin.
The door closed.
The Mustang pulled away.
As the packhouse vanished behind us, something inside me hardened, sharp, alive.
One day, I would return.
And when I did...
Alpha Xavier Blackthorn would answer for everything.
