Chapter 7

Ericka POV:

I checked myself out of the hospital the next morning. The doctors tried to stop me, but I had nothing left to lose. I had to go back. Not to beg, but to finish things.

I dragged my dying body back to the pack hospital, intending to confront Hailie one last time. I needed to know why she hated me so much.

I found her room. She was "recovering" from her near-drowning, surrounded by flowers.

But before I could enter, I heard voices.

"Is she dead?" It was my mother's voice.

"Coast Guard picked her up," Hailie's voice replied, annoyed. "She's like a cockroach."

"Damn it," my father grumbled. "If she comes back, it's going to be a PR nightmare. We should have just let her drown."

"Don't worry," Hailie laughed. "Caleb hates her. He thinks she pushed me. He's talking about a public execution if she returns."

"Good," my mother said. "Fitz needs to secure his position as Beta. Ericka is just a stain on our reputation now. A Wolfless freak."

I stood frozen in the hallway. My own parents. The people who raised me. The people I gave up my wolf to save-my sacrifice allowed Fitz to be strong, allowed our family to stay in power. And they wanted me dead.

I pushed the door open.

The room went silent. My parents looked at me with pure loathing. Hailie just smiled.

"Get out," I told my parents. My voice was a whisper, but it carried a weight I didn't know I possessed. "Get out."

They sneered and brushed past me. "Don't expect us to pay for your funeral," my father spat as he left.

I was alone with Hailie.

"Why?" I asked, leaning against the doorframe for support.

Hailie sat up, checking her nails. "Because I'm a Rogue, honey. And your pack? It's the strongest. I want it. I want the power, the money, the status."

"You're a Rogue?"

"Born and raised," she grinned, her eyes flashing a dull, muddy brown. She dropped the act completely. "I used a witch to mask my scent. I forged the letters. I poisoned your IV drips with silver while you were in a coma. And Caleb? He's so stupid. A little tear, a little cleavage, and he does whatever I want."

I pulled my phone from my pocket. The screen was recording.

"Got it," I said.

Hailie's face went pale. Then, it twisted into a demonic rage.

"Give me that!"

She lunged at me. I was weak, but I sidestepped. She crashed into the wall.

Suddenly, she screamed. A bloodcurdling shriek.

"Help! She has a knife!"

Hailie grabbed a vase and smashed it against her own head. Blood trickled down her forehead. Then, she ran to the window, opened it, and threw herself out onto the terrace below. It was only a second-story drop-easy for a wolf, even a weak one.

"Hailie!" Caleb burst into the room.

He looked at the open window, then at me holding my phone.

"You pushed her," he said. It wasn't a question.

"Caleb, listen to this-" I tried to hold up the phone.

He slapped it out of my hand. It skittered across the floor and under the bed.

"I am done listening to your lies!"

He grabbed me by the hair. Pain exploded in my scalp. He dragged me out of the room, up the stairs, all the way to the hospital roof.

The wind was howling up here. He pushed me to the edge.

"You like making people fall?" he snarled, his eyes glowing red with Alpha fury. "Let's see how you like it."

He grabbed a coil of rope left by maintenance workers. It was woven with silver threads-used for restraining feral wolves.

He tied it around my ankles. The silver burned instantly, eating into my flesh.

"Caleb, please! She's a Rogue!"

"Shut up!"

He shoved me over the edge.

I fell. The rope snapped taut, jerking my ankles with agonizing force. I swung there, upside down, five stories above the concrete. The blood rushed to my head. The silver burned my legs.

"Think about what you've done!" Caleb yelled from above. "If Hailie has a single scratch, I will cut this rope!"