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My blood runs cold as he stands to get into my face, towering over me menacingly. I look into the face of the man I have hated and see every single deranged thing about him. He’s completely unhinged.
"Dr. Montgomery sends her regards," he smirks with this casual cruelty in his voice. Before I can react, before I can so much as flinch away, he pulls out a needle and shoves it into my thigh, the sharp pain a bright flare against the dull ache of dread in my gut. "Hush now, little traitor. I'll be back soon. We have so much to discuss.”
This isn't the end. I won't let it be. The pain, the fear, the violation of my autonomy—each adds fuel to the fire of my resolve. Rodrigo may think he's won, that he can use me as a pawn in his twisted games, but I am more than he bargains for. I am not just a traitor to his imagined claim over me; I am a fighter, a survivor.
What he doesn’t realize is that he gave me all the fuel and drive I needed to ensure that he doesn’t walk out of here either. I decided right here, as the light fades and blackness takes over my vision, that if Rodrigo kills me…I’ll fucking take him with me.
Chapter 22
Wolf
"It is a cruel irony that often, we only realize the depth of our love for someone at the moment we lose them. It's as though their absence casts a shadow that finally highlights the space they occupied in our lives. Losing someone isn't just about missing their presence; it's a profound awakening to the fact that they were a part of us, a chapter of our story we thought we'd be writing together forever. This realization doesn't just bring pain; it brings clarity and, sometimes, a belated appreciation for what we had." - Unknown
In the thick of the night, with every tick of the clock mocking me, I'm tearing through Dakota’s room like a goddamn hurricane on legs. Frustration and fear grip me, a vice squeezing tighter with every second she's out there, God fucking knows where…or what is happening to her. My heart's pounding like it wants to bust out of my chest, and there's this gnawing feeling in my gut that's got nothing to do with hunger. It's fear,pure and simple, laced with a dose of rage for good measure. I’m spiraling and everyone around me can see it.
I spent the entire day doing my damndest to calm Aiden.He's been attached to my hip since this morning. Completely shattered at the realization that his mom isn't here. Fucking brokena at the fact that his uncle is no where to be found right when he needs him. Even now, as I tear her room to shreds, he's sleeping fitfully in her bed directly in my line of sight.
So while he is attempting to rest I continue on my mission. Every drawer, every nook and cranny, I scour them with a desperation I've never known. It's like I need to save a piece of my damn soul that decided to hitch a ride with her the moment she walked into my life.
Then, in her closet, tucked away safely, I find a carved wooden box. I don't know if this will hold any answers but it doesn't matter, it’s basically calling to me.
My hands are shaking as I rifle through the contents. It's personal, intimate, and I feel like a fucking intruder, but desperation's got a way of bulldozing over niceties. There's a wide array of different items - small little shoes that must be from Aiden’s younger years, a wedding ring that looks like it belonged to a man, a golden locket, and then letters.
Letters that are worn and weathered, addressed to her in a handwriting I recognize. My entire body is shaking, the letters clutched in my grasp as if by holding them tight enough, I could bridge the gap between then and now, could somehow meld the past and present into a future I'm suddenly terrified to face.
The realization that she kept these letters, that they were important enough to be stored among her most treasured possessions, sends a cascade of emotions through me—hope, fear, and an overwhelming sense of vulnerability. The realization that the woman I have been so angry with for abandoning me is…my Dakota…my little sunshine. They’re thesame fucking person and I had no idea. Because the reason I recognize that handwriting…is because it’s mine.
The irony is a bitter pill, the knowledge that while I've been guarding my heart, keeping her at a distance to protect us both, she's been holding onto these pieces of me, these promises of love and forever. She was holding ontous.
I feel like my emotions are rampaging against me…but the worst of all is the fucking guilt. The guilt that while she was suffering, being hurt in unthinkable ways, I was angry with her. That I allowed my parent's words to penetrate the trust we had built. How fucking dare I believe she would ghost me? God, what the fuck is wrong with me?
Years…nearly a decade and I had forced myself to be a bitter resentful person. I blamed her when she was just trying to fucking survive. I blamed the girl that I knew like the back of my hand over something that was never her fault.
But with this guilt, this crushing realization of my failings comes a resolve. I’m going to find her and then I will make sure she never knows pain or hurt again. I’ll give her every single fucking ounce of myself.
With the box tucked under my arm, I find myself racing to the kitchen to find Sebastian and Maddox. Both of them look haggard and shell-shocked. I think Maddox is blaming himself. He’s been even more unhappy and brooding since this morning. And every time he looks at Aiden, he looks like he might cry.
Even Sebastian looks like he is grieving. He's quiet and sullen, typing away on his computer and reaching out to anyone who might be able to assist us. They’ve already called in the cavalry with HQ but I can tell that's not enough for either of them. Dakota made her mark on them too. My brothers and I are falling apart without the glue that is Dakota. She came into our world and just…changed us.
They’re my brothers in all the ways that count, and right now, I need them more than ever. "I'm losing my fucking mind," I admit, the words rough in my throat. "I can't...I can't fucking lose her.”
With my confession I lay down the wooden box on the table, both of them glancing between it and me with confusion. Slowly, like he thinks it might bite him, Maddox drags the box closer and opens it. He rifles through the contents and when he finally sees what he's looking at his gaze snaps to mine.
“No,” he whispers, his voice raw. His eyes are wide and glassy as he sees what this means.
Maddox was with me when this all went down originally. He knows how broken I was and he knows that this girl was everything to me. He was the one to hold me while I cried and to pull me out of a depression that nearly killed me. He was the one who supported my pursuing a relationship with her. He washer friendthrough me. To find out that all this time, she was hiding from a fucking monster is beyond difficult. That she was broken and hurt…that we both thought the worst of her…is fucking heartbreaking.
I've never been one for laying my feelings out in the open, but this? It's eating me alive. The thought of her out there, possibly hurt or scared, and me, unable to protect her, is a kind of torture I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. The fact that the woman I found myself falling in love with is the only woman I have ever loved is driving me insane. It’s crazy and unlikely but…it’s her.
“Yes,” I reply, my voice cracking at the end as I continue to stare at my childhood best friend.
“I don't understand,” Seb murmurs, glancing at the letters with confusion. He knows about her. Of course he does, but he didn’t come into our lives until after it was said and done.
Maddox lifts his gaze from the letters and the devastation on his face will be imprinted on my mind for years to come. “It’s her…Dakota… she's Bre.”
Seb’s eyes widen and he sputters out, “Dakota? But she said she was Bre? The girl from the letters..her name isn’t Dakota. What the fuck?”
“Breann… that's what she said her name was,” I mumble, my heart crashing as I realize how naive I was. It's been right here in front of me this entire time and I was too fucking blind to see it. “Dakota Breann Blackwood.”
