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My wolf.
News would soon spread through the Faction, everyone learning about why Logan was suspended. What he did to me. How he got away with it. How I was just a shamed, weak little Brido that didn’t deserve the title of Beta.
I just wanted peace. Maybe in Lunestia’s arms, forever in the glow of her moonlight, I could find it.
A whisper in the back of my mind was trying to build to a scream, to warn me that Lunestia wouldn’t approve of this. She wouldn’t want me to give up. She would want me to fight. She would give me the strength to fight.
But I was just so tired.
I put the dagger to my neck, to the place where Logan had held me down and marked me against my will. I lined the shining, sharp edge to my pulse.
And I pulled, ripping it in two.
I didn’t know what I was expecting. Pain. Agony. Regret. But none of that came as I settled down on my bed, letting the minutes pass me by.
I felt my heartbeat slow. I felt the warmth of my blood pooling around me and sticking to every inch of me. I wasn’t cold. I wasn’t warm. I was peaceful as darkness slipped across my vision…
“KASHA!” a voice boomed, trying to pull me back from that darkness.
No, I wouldn’t let it.
“What did you do?” I felt pressure against me, but I still couldn’t see anything, darkness was still master of my sight. “Kasha, what did you do?”
“I knew something was off. I knew it…” The voice was trying to do something, he must be, because it was tethering me to this place, keeping me here longer, my slipping soul hesitating between this world and the next.
Rustling came, then a sharp intake of breath before I felt something drip onto me.
Onto my lips.
It was blood.
“No…” I croaked, not realizing my voice still worked. I clamped my lips down, rolling my head back and forth to avoid the sweet scent that was dripping across my face.
“Yes, drink, Kas, it’s the only way for me to fix the wound.” It must be Beckett saying these things. It was the only thing that made even a little sense in the overwhelming peace of darkness.
But I still refused to open my mouth, even for him. If I let him drip blood into my mouth, if I drank, I would heal. I would survive.
I didn’t want that.
“Don’t let him win, Kas,” Beckett whispered in my ear. “He tried to take so much from you, don’t give him this, too.”
The words somehow made it through the haze of blood loss, through the darkness, silencing the voices that had been encouraging me to do this for so long.
If I did this, Logan would win. He would have taken it all from me. I would be giving up.
And I didn’t give up.
I fought.
What was happening? I couldn’t seem to figure out how I got here, how I had fallen so far. So much of the past three months had been nothing but a thick gray fog that I was lost in. I couldn’t find my way out; I had succumbed to it.
But I didn’t give up. So why was I giving up now?
I wouldn’t let him win, I couldn’t. Not if I wanted to go to the Afterlife, to Lunestia, with my whole soul intact. Parts of it were still in this world and I needed to find them. And the only way to do that was to survive.
And to fight.
So, I did the only thing that I could. I clamped my lips around Beckett’s soft wrist, and I drank.
