I shoved the thought aside. Focus. I needed to focus.
The water was still running upstairs, buying me time. I scanned the kitchen quickly, looking for the best target. A pitcher of water sat on the counter, half-full. A mug with a tea bag waiting beside the kettle. A water bottle near the door, probably what she took out to the garden.
All of them. I'd dose all of them. My hands were steady as I pulled out the vial, carefully measuring drops into each container. Not too much—I didn't want to kill her, not yet, not until she understood why this was happening. Just enough to weaken her, to make her vulnerable, to ensure she couldn't fight back when I returned.
I was just finishing with the water bottle when I heard the water upstairs shut off.
Time to go.
I slipped back out the way I'd come, easing the door closed behind me, and retreated to the treeline. My heart was racing now, adrenaline singing through my blood. I'd done it. The first part was complete.
Now I just had to wait. I found a comfortable spot among the trees, hidden but with a clear view of the cabin, and settled in. The compound would take two to three hours to reach full effect. I could be patient. I'd been patient for years.
A few more hours was nothing.
As I waited, I let myself imagine the future that was finally within reach. The pack, gathered around me, apologizing for their mistake. Oliver, pressing a kiss to my forehead, promising to make it up to me. Garrett, building me a greenhouse even bigger than the one they'd built for her. Levi, making me laugh with his ridiculous jokes. Micah, looking at me with that quiet intensity that had always made my heart flutter.
They would love me. They would choose me. They would finally see what they should have seen all along.
I was their omega.
And nothing—not Daphne, not the town, not anyone—was going to stand in my way.
The hours crept by. The sun rose higher, burning off the mist, turning the morning crisp and golden. I watched Daphne move around her cabin, watched her drink from the water pitcher, watched her take her tea out to the garden.
Good girl. Drink up.
By noon, I could see the first signs that the compound was taking effect. She moved more slowly, pausing to press a hand to her forehead, sitting down heavily on the porch steps like she couldn't quite keep her balance. At one point, she pulled out her phone—probably to text the pack—but then seemed to think better of it, sliding it back into her pocket with a shake of her head.
Pride. That would be her downfall. Too proud to admit she was feeling weak, too stubborn to call for help.
It was almost too easy.
I waited another hour, watching her symptoms worsen. She'd retreated inside now, probably lying down, probably telling herself she just needed rest and she'd feel better soon.
She wasn't going to feel better. I rose from my hiding spot, brushing leaves and dirt from my clothes. My heart waspounding again, but not from fear—from anticipation. This was it. The moment I'd been waiting for.
Time to finish what I'd started.
I walked toward the cabin, not bothering to hide anymore. Let her see me coming. Let her understand, in those final moments of clarity, exactly who had beaten her. The back door was still unlocked. I pushed it open and stepped inside.
"Hello, Daphne," I said, my voice sweet as poison. "Did you miss me?"
Chapter Forty-Nine
Daphne
Something was wrong with me.
I'd woken up feeling fine, a little tired, maybe, but nothing unusual. I'd texted Oliver a quick thumbs up when he checked in, not wanting to worry him with my grogginess, and then I'd gone about my morning routine. Coffee. Toast. A few hours in the garden, pulling weeds and checking on the winter preparations.
By mid-morning, the tiredness had deepened into something else. A heaviness in my limbs that made every movement feel like wading through honey. A fog in my brain that made it hard to concentrate, hard to think.
I told myself it was just fatigue. I hadn't been sleeping well lately, too many thoughts swirling in my head, too many emotions to process. The intimacy with Micah and Oliver had been wonderful, overwhelming, life-changing. Maybe my body was just catching up…even if it has only been a couple days since my time with Oliver happened.
I drank some water from the pitcher on the counter, hoping hydration would help. Made myself a cup of tea and took it outto the garden. Sat on the porch steps when standing became too much effort. The world felt strange. Soft around the edges, like I was looking at everything through gauze. My heart was beating too fast, and when I pressed my hand to my forehead, my skin was hot and clammy.
Heat? But I wasn't in heat. Wasn't even close, according to my cycle.
