I ouldn't breathe. Tears pricked my eyes, hot and sharp, as I jerked my gaze between them. My lungs refused to work right. I bit the inside of my cheek to hold back a scream, the taste of copper filling my mouth, just as they separated from each other.
Sarah's shirt was still unbuttoned. Damien's belt hung loose.
"What is the meaning of this?" The words ripped out of me, raw and trembling. "Sarah? Damien?"
I held back choked tears. He had just comforted me an hour ago, his hands warm on my shoulders, his voice a low promise in my ear. We will get through this, Odessa. I'm here.
Never in a million years did I see this coming.
Damien let out a sharp sigh, almost bored. Sarah slid into her clothes with practiced ease, tucking her blonde hair behind her ears. She didn't look at me.
"It doesn't really matter now, does it?" Damien's voice was flat. "You're going to die, Odessa. You should at least let me move on with my mate."
"Your… mate?"
The word hung in the air, ugly and final.
"Yes." A cold smile touched his lips. "I found out that night at the Alpha ceremony. Figured that being with Sarah was going to be more advantageous in achieving my dream."
He fixed his belt with a crisp click and ran a hand through his hair. The gesture was so familiar it made my stomach twist. He let out a ragged sigh, and I took a step back, my heel hitting the leg of the sofa.
The tension in the room didn't just grow—it thickened, turning the air heavy and hard to swallow. The calm, collected Damien I knew was gone. In his place was something colder, sharper at the edges. And Sarah… she looked even deadlier than ever, her eyes gleaming with a quiet triumph.
"How long has this been going on?" My voice shook. "And what bloody dream are you talking about?"
"You were never going to get the agency, Odessa." He took a step toward me. Then another. "Sarah and I were going to make sure of that. How could you be so selfish? Wanting all of MAM for you alone?"
"I'm married to you, Damien." The words sounded stupid even as I said them. Hollow. "Of course it was going to be for the both of us."
"With you at the center of the spotlight?" He chuckled, low and humorless. "Never. Sarah said getting you to date me would be a piece of cake. And she was right."
He closed the distance between us, his cologne washing over me—spice and something metallic, like cold coins. He lifted my chin with two fingers, forcing me to look at him.
"Everything just kept falling into place. You rejecting those other pricks, choosing me… I knew we were unstoppable." His thumb brushed my jaw, almost tender. "If only you had died in the chlorine incident six years ago. Would've saved us all the trouble."
"Not until Rowan came crawling to save her," Sarah chimed in from behind him. She chuckled, throwing her hair back over one shoulder.
Rowan.
The name hit me like a physical blow. Memories flooded in, sudden and sharp: the shock of smell of the chemical, light spilling as the door broke open, the burn in my lungs, strong arms dragging me onto the tiles. The oddness—but also the strange familiarity—of his grip around my body.
Damien had lied. About everything.
I didn't need another monologue to piece it all together.
"You tricked me." My voice went quiet, dangerously steady. "You made me fall for you. You tried to kill me. And when that didn't work… you married me?"
I shoved his fingers away from my face, my own hands trembling. I forced my spine straight, my chin up. I couldn't falter. Couldn't show a single crack, not in front of them.
"You're not really as smart as you try to be," Damien scoffed, shaking out his hand. "I got a vasectomy while we were married. Did it during that business trip to Geneva. You were never going to have a child. Not with me."
Then it snapped.
Something inside my chest—the last fragile thread holding me together—snapped clean in two.
My lips quivered. A raw, angry sound tore from my throat before I could stop it, and I slammed my palms against his chest. "You're a monster!"
All these years. All these years. I had blamed myself. I cut my diet, tracked my cycle, swallowed vitamins and teas and hope. I was so focused on having a child, on fixing what I thought was broken in me, that I didn't realize I was dying on the inside. And he let me. He watched.
I saw it in his eyes then—the satisfaction. Dark and complete. He had finally broken me. Gotten to the very core.
I'm not going to let him get away with this.
He caught my wrists, his grip like steel, and shoved me aside. I stumbled, my balance gone, and hit the ground hard. My elbow cracked against the hardwood floor. A sharp, bright pain pierced through my skull, blooming behind my eyes.
He grinned down at me, then turned to Sarah as she slid an arm around his waist.
"My mother was right about you, Odessa," he said, his voice almost conversational. "Naive. Dumb. A foolish little girl parading around in expensive clothes to mask who she really is."
"I hope she says that," I spat, pushing myself up on shaking arms, "when I drag all of you to jail."
"I'd like to see you try," Sarah purred. "From your grave."
My heart didn't just sink. It dropped, a stone in icy water.
In the next few minutes, everything moved in a nightmarish blur. Damien hauled me up, his hands rough on my arms, and dragged my struggling form toward the bedroom. I squirmed, I kicked, I screamed until my throat was raw. No one came.
Sarah followed, calm as ever, and picked up a small glass vial from the nightstand.
Damien pinned me to the bed, his weight crushing. I pressed my mouth tightly shut, squeezing my eyes closed, just as he wrenched my head to the side. I felt the cold glass rim of the dropper touch my ear.
It only took a few drops.
A strange, cool numbness spread from my ear through my head, down my neck, into my limbs. The fight drained out of me all at once. My muscles went slack. My thoughts slowed, muffled, like I was hearing everything from underwater.
I couldn't move. I couldn't even blink on my own.
I only saw them as shadows then, scrambling for car keys, talking in low, urgent voices. Sarah rushed back into the room, grabbed my small weekend luggage from the corner, and disappeared again.
I'm going to die.
The thought was clear and absolute.I know I will.
I thought of my mother. Her smile, the smell of her perfume, the way she'd brush my hair when I was sick. Damien's face swam above me, and he hauled me up again, my body limp as a doll. A single tear rolled down my frozen cheek, warm against my cold skin.
He carried me outside. The night air was cool, smelling of rain and distant city smoke. He placed me in the backseat of my own car like a bag of trash. My head lolled against the leather. Next to me, on the seat, was a small, black device. A digital timer glowed green in the dark, its numbers silently counting down.
My life.
It didn't flash before my eyes—itspilled. My mother's laughter. My father handing me the keys to my first car. The awful, lavish wedding. The lonely nights. The doctors' offices. Everything I sacrificed, every piece of myself I gave away, all for this one dream. Only to lose it all to the man I loved the most.
And then, clearer than anything else: Rowan De Luca's face. Hard. Unyielding. The enemy I was taught to dread… and the one who had pulled me from the water.
Damien leaned into the backseat, his face close to mine. The timer's green light reflected in his eyes.
"Goodbye, Odessa."
He didn't slam the door. He closed it softly, like you would for a sleeping child. Through the window, I watched him walk to Sarah's waiting car, get in, and drive away. The red taillights vanished into the darkness.
Silence. Then, the faint, electronic tick of the timer.
My gaze locked on those glowing numbers. 5… 4… 3…
A strange calm washed over the numbness. My final thought was not a prayer, but a curse sent into the void.
I hope you see this. I hope you see how you've let them ruin me.
2… 1…
The world dissolved into sound, light, and then, nothing but utter darkness.