Jade’s POV
I closed the door behind without a sound.
The room didn’t change. It didn’t react. It just stayed exactly the way I had left it, as if ti had paused here, waiting for a version of that no longer existed. The bed was still neatly made. The curtains were half drawn, letting in a thin band of afternoon light that cut across the floor and stopped just short of my feet.
I stood there for a long mont, hands hanging uselessly at my sides.
No rage ca.
No tears either.
Just... emptiness.
It was strange how quiet grief could be when it was done screaming. How it could hollow you out so completely that there was nothing left to break. I felt like a house after a fire, not smoldering, not collapsing. Just standing there, charred and vacant, pretending to still be a place soone could live in.
I took a few steps into the room. Each one felt distant, like my body was moving and my mind was trailing behind, delayed. Everything looked untouched, it was exactly how it was before I left for the trip. It was unsettling how normal it all was, as though the world hadn’t noticed that sothing essential had been taken from .
And Ronan, Ryder and Renzo.
They didn’t co for when I needed them.
But that is not surprising.
They already have a habit of abandoning when I need them the most.
Then I realized.
I wasn’t angry at them anymore.
The realization ca quietly. It didn’t hurt the way I thought it would. It simply settled into place like a truth that had been waiting for to be tired enough to accept it.
Anger required expectation.
And I didn’t have any left, not for them, not for anyone.
I’d spent so long swinging between hope and disappointnt, telling myself that if I just tried harder, if I endured more, loved better, stayed softer, they would eventually choose without hesitation. But the truth was painfully clear now. They always chose Linda first. Every ti. Not because she demanded it, but because they were already looking in her direction.
If they ever cared about at all, it was always conditional.
My mind drifted, uninvited, back to the island.
The resort had been drenched in sunlight and salt air, laughter woven into every mont. Warm hands. Lingering glances. Lustful monts. The illusion of being wanted so badly it had felt like a physical thing, like warmth pressed against my skin after a lifeti of cold. I rembered thinking, foolishly, that maybe I had finally stepped into a different life. One where I wasn’t just surviving, but chosen.
Now it felt unreal.
Like sothing I’d dread while starving.
The door knocked once.
Then opened.
I didn’t turn around. I didn’t need to. The air shifted, heavier, colder, and I knew exactly who it was.
Alpha Ashford stepped into the room like he owned it. Like he owned .
“I hope the night in the dungeon was able to finally keep your anger contained,” he said, his voice calm, clipped, authoritative. “Your mother’s death was an accident.”
That did it.
Sothing sharp slid into place inside my chest
I turned slowly to face him.
“Do you even have any human feelings at all?” I asked.
My voice didn’t shake. That surprised . I felt like I was speaking from sowhere far beneath the surface, where emotions had burned down to their core and left only truth behind.
He frowned slightly, as if irritated by the question.
I laughed under my breath, a soft, humorless sound. “You know,” I said, “when I was younger, I used to admire you.”
That caught his attention.
“You were always around,” I continued. “You and my father. Talking. Laughing. Making plans like the world was sothing you could bend with your hands. I thought you were a good man. I looked up to you just like I did my father.”
My throat tightened when I spoke of my father. The words scraped on the way out.
“Then he was frad. Branded a traitor. And you didn’t even hesitate. You sentenced him to death like it ant nothing.” My voice cracked then, just barely. “My mother was your best friend’s wife. And you let her die like this. You call it an accident and expect to accept it.”
I t his eyes fully now. “You’re a monster.”
I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t need to.
Sothing cold passed over his expression.
“That is enough,” he said sharply. “Your father was not my friend, he never was. A friend would not plot my downfall the way he did. He was a criminal, and he was brought to justice. Do not speak of him to again.”
The finality in his tone was absolute.
Whatever faith I had left in him shattered completely in that mont.
He turned to leave.
Then paused at the door.
“Your mother’s body has been cleaned,” he said, as though he were discussing an inconvenience. “A canoe has been prepared at Moonwillow Stream. You may go there to send her off properly. Make sure the body is burned.”
And with that, he was gone.
No condolences. No apology. No rcy.
I didn’t think. I didn’t stop to grab anything. I just ran.
The estate blurred around as my feet carried forward, over stone paths and through the trees. I barely felt the ground beneath . My lungs burned, but I didn’t slow down. I couldn’t. If I did, I was afraid I would fall apart before I reached her.
Moonwillow Stream ca into view, the water glinting dully beneath the overcast sky.
And there she was.
My mother lay in the canoe as though she were sleeping. Clean. Peaceful. Wrong.
Her hands were folded over her chest. Her hair had been brushed back from her face. Soone had tried to make her look dignified, as if dignity could erase the way she had been discarded like refuse.
A burning torch rested nearby, its fla dancing gently in the breeze.
My knees gave out.
I collapsed onto the ground, a sound tearing out of that I didn’t recognize as my own. The sobs ca fast and violent, ripping through my chest, stealing my breath. I crawled closer to the canoe, pressing my forehead against the cool wood as if that could anchor .
“I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I’m so sorry.”
I told her everything. How scared I had been. How alone. How I should have protected her better. How I didn’t know how to exist in a world without her. Promises spilled from my mouth, so foolish, so desperate, all too late.
The world felt unbearably unfair.
Eventually, there were no tears left.
I stood on shaking legs and picked up the torch.
My hand didn’t tremble when I lit it.
I pushed the canoe into the stream myself, watching as the fire caught, slow at first, then hungry. The flas reflected in the water, bright and rciless. I followed the canoe with my eyes until it drifted further away, until the fire beca the only thing left of her.
Sothing inside died then.
And sothing else, took its place.
I wiped my face with the back of my hand and stood tall, even as my heart bled out inside my chest.
I would never be this powerless again.
I would never let anyone decide my family’s worth.
I would not end up like my father.
I would not end up like my mother.
I would climb the social hierarchy they used to crush people like us. I would gain influence. Control. A voice they couldn’t silence.
And everyone responsible for the downfall of my family, directly or indirectly, would pay.
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