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Waiting.

Waiting for me to beg.

Waiting for me to stop fighting.

Waiting for something inside me to finally surrender.

It never had.

I lowered my gaze to my ruined thumb. The thick white scar running along its length. Then I thought of my thigh. The ache buried deep beneath bone. He’d broken my body. My hand. My leg. He’d scarred me in place I’d carry forever. But there was one place he’d never reached.

My hand drifted to my chest. My heartbeat answered beneath my palm.

Slow.

Steady.

Mine.

That’d always been what he wanted.

Not my body.

My spirit.

My willingness to believe him.

To become what he insisted I already was.

Broken.

Empty.

His.

A tear slipped free.

I wiped it away before it reached my jaw. “No.”

The word was barely more than a breath. Not then. Not now.

I wasn’t giving him that victory.

Not over me.

Not over Alaric.

I drew in one long breath. Then another. The trembling eased. Not completely. But enough. Enough to choose. I rose from the bed. No more secrets. No more carrying this alone. I unlocked my phone. Opened the messages and headed for the door.

The hallway stretched away before me. Every step felt heavier than the last. Not because I was afraid anymore. But because I knew what I had to do. Voices drifted along the hallway. Mrs. Reid had returned after the terror, busying herself around the house once more. Never far. Loyal to a fault. But it was the male voices I followed.

“West wing is clear, Revenant.”

I slowed.

Revenant?

“Check it again,” Alaric answered.