ADRIAN'S POV
I ordered Drek to assemble the team.
Today, Dawson would pay for everything he had done.
Today, my sister would finally be free.
Knock. Knock.
"Come in."
Elisa stepped inside, carrying a glass of blood. Her gaze lingered on my face, taking in the exhaustion I hadn't bothered to conceal.
"You haven't rested all night," she said quietly, holding out the glass. "Drink this. You'll feel better."
I accepted it without looking at her.
"Is the team ready?"
She nodded. "Everyone is waiting."
I took a measured sip before setting the glass aside.
Beyond the window, darkness stretched across the horizon, concealing the world beneath its unforgiving veil.
My jaw tightened.
Dawson had mistaken my silence for mercy.
He had mistaken my patience for weakness.
And now, he was going to learn the difference.
My fingers curled into fists.
I'm coming for you, my sister.
And this time—
No one would stand between me and the man who destroyed your life.
EIRA'S POV
"Your ankle is healing well. It's only a minor sprain."
The doctor adjusted the bandage before handing me a prescription.
"Take these medicines as directed. Avoid putting too much weight on your ankle for now."
I hesitated.
"Can I go to college?" I asked, giving him my most pleading look.
He regarded me with mild amusement.
"Not today. You can return tomorrow if the pain doesn't worsen."
I nodded, though disappointment settled heavily in my chest.
Being confined to bed was torture. I had never realized how irritating doing absolutely nothing could be until I was forced to do it.
With a resigned sigh, I reached for my phone and began scrolling through novels.
Romance. Fantasy. Supernatural fiction.
Then a title caught my attention.
Werewolves.
I paused.
Werewolves?
Did creatures like that actually exist?
A quiet snort escaped me.
What am I even thinking?
They were fictional. They belonged in books, not in the real world.
And yet, an unwelcome thought slipped into my mind.
How had Adrian made those wolves run away?
My fingers stilled over the screen.
No.
Absolutely not.
I was not going to spend another minute thinking about that arrogant, infuriating man.
Still, curiosity had already taken root.
One day, I'm definitely asking him.
I could practically imagine the expression he would give me—those cold eyes, that perpetually irritated face, and some cutting remark designed to make me regret opening my mouth.
My lips twitched.
Fine.
I would ask him when I got the chance.
Until then, there were far more important things to occupy my mind.
Like fictional men who, unlike a certain someone, actually knew how to behave romantically.
I opened a romance novel.
And promptly forgot about Adrian.
Or at least, I tried to.
ANDY'S POV
Pain was the first thing I felt.
It seeped into every part of me, settling deep within my bones, twisting through my muscles, and hollowing out something inside my chest.
Even breathing hurt.
I forced my eyes open.
The room was empty.
Silent.
Yet the stillness felt suffocating, as though the walls were slowly closing in around me.
Then the memories returned.
Not gradually.
All at once.
The screams. The bruises. The nights I had begged for it to stop. The countless moments when I had thought I couldn't possibly endure another second, only to discover that the nightmare had no end.
I remembered Elisa holding me through the nights when I woke trembling from dreams I couldn't escape.
I remembered Mike sitting outside my bedroom for hours because I was too frightened to sleep alone.
And I remembered Adrian.
His unwavering promise that no one would ever hurt me again.
They had given me years of patience when I had nothing left to give myself. They had helped me piece together a life I thought had been shattered beyond repair.
Slowly, painstakingly, they had taught me how to live without being afraid of every shadow.
And now—
I was back here.
The realization hollowed me out.
Tears slipped down my cheeks, hot and relentless.
Would I ever see them again?
Would I ever return home?
Would I ever feel safe again?
Please, someone...
I want to go home.
The door slammed open.
I recoiled so violently that my back struck the corner of the room.
My breath caught.
No.
Please, no.
I curled into myself, wrapping my arms around my knees as my entire body began to tremble. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a desperate warning.
I didn't need to look up.
I knew who it was.
I could never mistake the sound of his footsteps. Never forget the particular terror that seized me whenever he entered a room.
Dawson.
My tears betrayed me before I could stop them.
He crouched in front of me and seized my chin, his fingers digging painfully into my skin.
"Look at me."
I tried to turn away.
His grip tightened.
A sharp sting shot through my jaw, forcing a broken sound from my throat.
Then, without another word, he hauled me to my feet and dragged me out of the room.
My legs barely held me upright.
He carried me into another bedroom and dropped me onto the edge of the bed.
White walls. Black furniture. Expensive decorations.
A beautiful room.
A prison all the same.
He tossed a black dress into my lap.
"Get cleaned up. Put that on."
My eyes fell to the fabric.
The dress was far too revealing, its design making my stomach twist with a sickening familiarity.
I couldn't breathe properly.
I knew what men like Dawson did when they wanted something.
I knew what happened when I refused.
And the thought of what he might be planning made every instinct in my body scream at me to run.
"Please..." The word escaped before I could stop it.
His expression hardened.
"Don't start."
He turned and walked out, leaving the door open behind him.
For several seconds, I sat motionless, staring at the dress in my lap.
Then I forced myself into the bathroom.
My hands shook so badly that I struggled with the fabric. Silent sobs tore through me as I changed, each movement feeling like another surrender I had never chosen.
I stared at my reflection.
The girl looking back at me seemed like a stranger.
Her eyes were swollen. Her face was pale. Her lips trembled despite her desperate attempts to hold herself together.
I pressed both hands against the sink.
You have to survive.
I had told myself those words more times than I could remember.
But tonight, survival felt like an impossible promise.
"Are you coming out?" Dawson called from the bedroom.
I closed my eyes.
"Or do I have to come and get you?"
His voice sharpened.
I stepped out.
I barely had time to draw breath before his arm snaked around my waist and dragged me against him.
I stiffened.
Every muscle in my body locked.
"We're going to have a little fun tonight, baby," he murmured near my ear.
His smile made my blood run cold.
"No..." My voice was barely audible.
He tightened his hold.
"Please, Dawson. Don't do this."
"Don't do what?" he asked, feigning innocence.
I struggled against him.
"Please, let me go!"
My voice broke into a sob.
His expression darkened.
"Keep your voice down. I don't want to hear you screaming."
He leaned closer, his tone dropping into something far more threatening.
"Don't ruin my mood, Andy. You know how angry I get when you disobey me."
For years, I had learned to endure.
To stay quiet.
To make myself smaller.
To survive by giving him as little reason as possible to hurt me.
But something inside me had reached its limit.
I couldn't do this anymore.
I couldn't let him take another piece of me.
Not tonight.
Not ever again.
With a strength I hadn't known I possessed, I shoved him away.
He stumbled backward, his expression flashing with disbelief.
For one precious second, I was free of his grip.
Then his face twisted with rage.
He advanced toward me.
I stumbled back, my pulse roaring in my ears, but I refused to look away.
I didn't know what I would do if he reached me.
I only knew I couldn't let him touch me again.
And then—
BOOM!
The door exploded inward.
The sound ripped through the room, freezing everything in its wake.
Dawson turned.
So did I.
Adrian stood in the shattered doorway.
His chest rose and fell with each controlled breath. His fists were clenched, and his gaze burned with a fury so absolute that, for a moment, the entire room seemed to hold its breath.
He looked at me.
Just once.
And something in his expression changed.
The merciless fury remained, but beneath it lay something rawer.
Relief.
Pain.
Guilt.
An apology he didn't have to speak for me to understand.
Then his gaze shifted to Dawson.
Whatever restraint he had left disappeared.
He crossed the room so quickly that I barely registered the movement.
One moment, Dawson stood before me.
The next, Adrian had him by the throat.
He drove him into the wall with enough force to crack the plaster.
"I WARNED YOU."
Adrian's voice was terrifyingly low.
"If you ever touched her again, it would be your last day."
His grip tightened.
"And you still dared."
He struck Dawson hard enough to send him crashing to the floor.
Years of hatred poured into every blow. Years spent searching for my sister, carrying the weight of promises I had failed to keep, and imagining what I would do to the man responsible for her suffering.
I had imagined this moment countless times.
None of those imaginings had come close.
"How dare you lay a hand on her?"
Dawson barely had time to move before Adrian seized him again.
"You should have prayed I never found you."
Blood streaked Dawson's face.
Still, Adrian showed no sign of stopping.
"Adrian!"
His name escaped my lips, but the chaos swallowed it.
Then, suddenly, he turned toward me.
"Andy."
His voice cut through everything.
"Come here."
I couldn't move.
My body remained frozen, trapped in the same terror that had held me captive for years.
Adrian released Dawson and approached me.
Slowly this time.
He stopped in front of me, his expression hard to read, and extended his hand.
I stared at it.
The same hands that had just unleashed their fury upon the man who had tormented me now waited patiently for me to decide whether I could bear to touch them.
I placed my trembling fingers in his.
His grip closed around mine—gentle, careful, nothing like Dawson's.
"It's all right," he said.
The words sounded unfamiliar coming from him.
Adrian was never a man of many words. He had never needed them to make himself understood.
"Look at me, Andy."
I lifted my eyes.
"You're not helpless."
My lips trembled.
He glanced briefly at Dawson, who was struggling to push himself upright.
Then Adrian looked back at me.
"Do it for Dustin."
My breath caught.
Dustin.
The name pierced through the haze of terror, awakening something I had buried beneath years of pain.
Adrian's thumb brushed a tear from my cheek.
"Do it for yourself."
Behind him, Dawson laughed.
It was a broken, ugly sound, but it was enough to make my blood turn cold again.
"She can't."
Adrian's head turned slightly.
Dawson spat blood onto the floor.
"She'll never have the courage. She knows who she belongs to."
His bloodstained smile widened.
"She loves me."
Something inside me went still.
Not because I believed him.
Not because I was no longer afraid.
But because I finally understood what I had spent years trying to deny.
He had mistaken my silence for love.
My submission for devotion.
My survival for surrender.
He had hurt me, broken me, and stolen years of my life—and still believed he had the right to define what I felt.
I looked at him.
Really looked at him.
For the first time, I didn't see the man who held power over my life.
I saw the coward who needed my fear to feel powerful.
And I was done giving it to him.
I slipped my hand from Adrian's.
Then I walked toward Dawson.
My knees trembled with every step. My heart threatened to tear itself apart inside my chest.
But I kept going.
Dawson's smile faltered.
"You don't love me," I said.
My voice shook, but the words were clear.
"You never loved me."
His expression hardened.
"You—"
"YOU RAPED ME!"
The scream tore from somewhere deep inside me.
It filled the room, carrying every word I had swallowed, every cry I had stifled, every truth I had been too terrified to speak aloud.
"You destroyed my life!"
Tears streamed down my face, but I no longer tried to hide them.
"You made me afraid of everything! You made me afraid to sleep, afraid to speak, afraid to believe that I could ever be safe again!"
My voice broke.
I forced myself to continue.
"But you don't own me."
Dawson stared at me.
"You never did."
For years, he had made me feel powerless.
Tonight, I finally said the words he had spent years ensuring I would never dare to speak.
"You are a monster!"
My hands shook at my sides.
"I hate you."
The words were small compared with everything he had done.
But they were mine.
And for the first time, he couldn't take them away from me.
My strength deserted me all at once.
I staggered backward, barely aware of my surroundings, until Adrian caught me.
His arms closed around me, firm enough to support me, gentle enough not to frighten me.
I broke.
Every sob I had held back came pouring out, shaking my entire body.
"Shhh..." Adrian murmured.
His voice was rough, almost unsteady.
"It's over, Andy."
He held me closer, one hand resting against the back of my head.
"He can't hurt you anymore."
I clutched his shirt, unable to stop crying.
"It's over," he repeated, his voice breaking around the words. "You're safe."
Then, so quietly that I almost didn't hear him, he said, "I'm sorry."
I lifted my face.
Adrian's jaw was clenched, his eyes fixed on mine.
"I should have found you sooner."
The guilt in his voice hurt more than I expected.
I shook my head desperately.
"No."
My voice cracked.
"Don't say that."
He looked away, but I caught his hand before he could pull back.
"You came for me."
For a moment, he said nothing.
"You came for me," I repeated, tears slipping down my cheeks. "You did protect me."
Something shifted in his expression.
He closed his eyes briefly, as though my words had struck somewhere he couldn't defend.
Then he drew me against his chest again.
Behind us, Dawson made a feeble attempt to rise.
Adrian's expression changed instantly.
The tenderness vanished.
He looked over his shoulder, and the coldness in his eyes could have frozen the blood in my veins.
"Burn him."
Two words.
No hesitation.
No mercy.
Drek stepped forward from the shattered doorway.
Only then did I realize he had been there all along, waiting for Adrian's command.
He gave a brief nod.
"Understood."
Adrian didn't look away from Dawson until Drek moved to carry out the order.
Then he turned back to me.
"Can you stand?"
I nodded weakly.
He kept one arm around me as we walked outside.
The night air brushed against my skin, cool and unfamiliar after the suffocating room I had just left.
Bodies lay scattered across the ground. The sounds of fighting had faded, leaving only the distant crackle of flames and the subdued voices of those who had survived.
It was over.
Dawson was no longer in control.
I was no longer trapped in that room.
And yet, as I stood beneath the open sky, I couldn't quite comprehend what freedom was supposed to feel like.
Then a familiar voice broke through the silence.
"Andy!"
I turned.
Elisa was running toward me.
The moment she reached me, she wrapped her arms around me and held me as though she would never let me go.
Something inside me finally gave way.
I buried my face against her shoulder and sobbed.
She held me tighter, whispering my name, her own voice trembling as she stroked my hair.
I had imagined this moment so many times.
Coming home.
Seeing their faces.
Knowing that I would never have to wake up in that nightmare again.
But no dream could have prepared me for the overwhelming relief of being held by someone who wanted nothing from me except for me to be safe.
I wasn't crying because I was afraid.
Not because I was hurting.
I was crying because I had survived.
Because Adrian had found me.
Because Elisa was holding me.
Because somewhere beyond the pain, beyond the years Dawson had stolen, a future still existed.
For the first time in years, I allowed myself to believe that it could belong to me.
I was home.
And at last—
I was free.