"Alright, but don’t think this is over. When you get back, we’re going to have a serious conversation," Chris muttered as he stalked off with the doc trailing behind, his footsteps heavy against the tiled floor.

I lowered my gaze, pressing my forehead against the coolness of the wall to shield the sharp sting twisting through my abdomen. Talking was off the table. Not because I didn’t want to, but because every word tightened the knot of agony inside me. Couldn’t he tell the difference? Couldn’t he see that some things weren’t about will but about the body’s limits?

"Come on, Jess," Jude’s voice was low, tender, his piercing blue eyes reflecting genuine concern as he reached down to help me up. "Let’s get you on your feet."

"I’m sorry, Jude. I really don’t—"

"Shh," he cut me off gently, wrapping his arms around me in a careful embrace. "You don’t have to explain. Not now."

I let my muscles loosen in his protective hold, the warmth grounding me for a moment before I pulled back, uncomfortable. The dark stain spreading across my shirt made my skin crawl – not just any blood, but Chris’s. It was my fault.

"I’m going to clean up," I said, my voice barely above a whisper as I turned toward the staircase. I could hear Jace and Jude trailing behind me, footsteps hesitant but persistent. I doubted they’d leave if I asked.

Pausing at the bedroom door, I hesitated. "I’m just taking a quick shower," I offered, the lie hanging between us. Both men shifted awkwardly but stayed put. I sighed, locking the door behind me before peeling off the bloodied clothes.

‘You need to get out of here,’ a voice inside hissed. ‘Like hell Chris will let you.’ ‘When have you ever asked permission before?’ ‘Fuck...’

After a swift shower, I dressed in my usual armor: dark bootcut jeans, worn leather boots, a simple tank top, and my battered leather jacket. If I was going to find space, his bike was my best bet.

My eyes flicked to the plain manila envelope Derek had slipped to me when he vanished like the coward he was. Inside, a necklace bearing a Guardian crest—altered but unmistakably protective—and a thick wad of cash. His note was brief: "Just in case."

I pocketed the necklace and money, leaving my phone and keys on the dresser. The weight of guilt clung to me like a second skin, but the decision was made.

‘Now or never,’ I whispered to myself. ‘Stop stalling.’

Before I could second-guess, a sharp knock echoed on the door—a silent countdown. My gaze darted to the window. Heart pounding, I slipped it open, climbing onto the rooftop outside.

Careful and quick, I crossed the back porch roof and dropped down behind the garage. The night air was cool, tinged with the scent of pine and wet earth. I entered the garage and flipped on the lights, squinting against the sudden brightness.

Normally, I’d admire the collection—the black Ram truck, crimson Charger, sleek Cadillac SUV—but tonight my focus was singular: the Indian motorcycle stationed closest to the door.

Just as I reached for it, a voice cut through the silence. "Planning a getaway, elf?" Jace’s tone was light, but his grey eyes were sharp and unyielding.

‘He’s pissed,’ I noted grimly. ‘Shut up, peanut gallery, let me think.’

The room suddenly felt smaller. I sensed more presence—Xavier in the Charger, Jude behind the wheel of the pickup. I caught Jude’s eye and offered a glare. Somehow, I knew he’d figured it out.

I squared my shoulders and stepped toward Chris’s bike, eyes locked on Jace. "Step off," I ordered firmly.

He leaned down, towering over me—well past six feet, while I barely reached five-three. His gaze was icy. "No. If you’re going anywhere, we’re taking you. No more running." His voice lost all playfulness, hardened like steel.

"I’m not your problem," I snapped, shoving him away. Unnoticed by him, I slipped the ignition key from the bike as I stepped back.

"Jess, that’s not what I meant," he softened, but the tension didn’t fade. I saw Xavier moving toward the garage door opener, and with a soft click, the door began to close. Panic flooded my chest.

I had seconds. No time to hesitate. Heart hammering, I vaulted onto the bike, fingers trembling as I twisted the throttle. The engine roared to life beneath me—sharp, fierce, a wild heartbeat matching my own—and I peeled out just as the door slid shut behind me.

My pulse thundered in my ears as I sped away, the shadows of the pack imprinted on the night behind me. Chris’s shout rang out, laced with anger and disbelief. Guilt squeezed my lungs, but I couldn’t stop. Not now.

The forest flared alive as wolves erupted from the tree line on either side, their snarls mingling with the wind. I shifted through gears, pushing the bike harder, leaving them trembling in my wake. They were pack, yes, but none would risk harming me—not when I was still a part of their world.

After an hour of relentless riding, I eased to a stop, the bike humming beneath me in the still night. The moon hung high—just a slender crescent—casting silver slivers through the canopy. I doubled over, clutching my gut as the pain twisted anew, relentless and sharp.

Swallowing a groan, I fished the phone from my jacket pocket. The screen lit up, wallpaper flashing 'Princess,' a nickname that churned the pit of my stomach with irritation. Four contacts stared back: Chris, Derek, Mack, and Dex.

My thumb hovered over Derek’s name. Of all of them, he was the one I needed now. I tapped, waiting. No answer. I called again. And again. Four times. Silence.

A buzz—a text message.

Derek: what princess?

Me: answer your fucking phone!

Derek: no

My fingers trembled on the screen, fury bubbling beneath my skin.

Me: It’s important, Derek. I need to talk.

Derek: I’m busy. You need to keep quiet. Phones going off. Sleep well, princess.

My chest burned hotter than the night air. I snapped the phone shut, the helpless rage clawing at me.

Switching gears, I dialed Mack. The line rang once before a groggy, hesitant voice answered.

"H-hello?" she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

"Sorry for waking you," I said quickly, guilt threading through my words.

"Jess? Are you alright?" concern laced her tone, waking fully now.

"I’m okay, but... where is Derek?" I asked, desperation seeping through my voice.

"I don’t know. Have you tried calling him?" Her words were cautious, guarded.

"More than once," I said sharply. "He’s been dodging me ever since he disappeared from the hospital."

There was a long pause. I sensed she was holding something back.

"Mack, please. Where is he? I need to find him. Only he can help me now," I pleaded, voice low and urgent.

"Jess, what’s going on?" Her question cut through me, tightening the knot in my stomach.

"I can’t explain over the phone," I admitted, voice trembling.

"I’ll text you an address. I’ll come meet you there," she offered.

"No, it’s not necessary. I have to deal with Derek," I insisted, even though my heart screamed for backup.

"With him? You might need it. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Did he leave you a crest?" Her tone was serious, clinical.

"There was a necklace," I said, fingers tracing the pendant hidden beneath my jacket.

"Wear it. If anyone gives you trouble, show it. It might be the only thing standing between you and danger tonight," she warned.

I swallowed, hesitating. "Are you alone?" she asked.

I paused, unwilling to lie but unwilling to drag others into this mess. "Yeah," I finally said, voice barely a whisper.

"Stay safe, Jess. And call me if you need anything," Mack said before the line went dead.

Alone in the quiet night, the only sound was the low hum of the bike’s engine. My thoughts spiraled, tangled with pain and betrayal. I wasn’t sure what awaited me with Derek, but I knew I had no choice but to face it. The shadows of my pack stretched long behind me, but the path forward was mine alone to walk.