Chapter 8

Feya’s POV

The world had descended into turmoil. The once serene atmosphere of the garden was now suffused with dread, the sound of hurried footsteps echoing as guards rushed to secure the perimeter. My heart raced, each thump a stark reminder of the peril that enveloped us. The acrid smoke stung my eyes, yet I refused to waver. I was already upright, my body rigid with anxiety, my heart overshadowed by a darkness deeper than mere fear.

Killian was the last person I wanted to dwell on at this moment, yet his image intruded upon my mind unbidden. Why did he have to act this way? My fists tightened, the fabric of my gown wrinkling under the strain. I couldn’t afford to indulge those feelings, not when chaos reigned around us.

I maneuvered past the chairs, disregarding the worried glances of the elders, their eyes silently urging me to remain composed. But composure was a luxury I could not afford. No one could, not in this moment. The air was saturated with the sounds of gunfire and distant blasts, signaling that the enemy was drawing near. I had to keep moving.

"Feya, please!" A voice cut through my reverie.

I barely noticed the guard as he stepped into my path. He was panting, his face slick with sweat. Panic laced his every word. "You need to find a safe place. This isn’t—"

I pushed past him, my frustration boiling over. "Get your hands off me!”

His hand gripped my arm, attempting to halt my progress, but I was resolute. No one would stop me—not him, not anyone. A tempest of emotions swirled within me: frustration, fear, and a deep sense of betrayal. I wasn’t afraid of death; I feared being manipulated. I worried that, despite our efforts, the pack might collapse under its own burdens. And Killian… it infuriated me that he still occupied my thoughts.

I pressed on, my mind a battlefield. The palpable tension in the atmosphere tightened around me, yet I refused to waver. I needed to reach the pack mansion; it seemed like the only place where I could regain some control amidst the chaos. Action was imperative.

Then, I heard footsteps.

Footsteps that were not those of guards or civilians fleeing.

Zane.

The name struck me like a blow. I had no desire to confront her, no wish to hear her voice. She was a constant reminder of everything that had gone awry in my life—the woman who had seized all I had fought for without a second thought.

Her voice cut through the air, sharp and demanding, a painful echo of the past. "Feya, where is he? Where's Killian?"

I halted abruptly, my body tense, narrowing my eyes as I pivoted to confront her.

"Do you genuinely care?" I retorted with disdain. "Oh, right—of course you do. He’s merely another trophy for you, isn’t he?"

Zane maintained her composure, her expression as frosty as ever, though her eyes revealed a flicker of annoyance. "I’m not here to argue, Feya. I need to know where he is. You’re aware the situation is dire.”

"Bad?" I scoffed, interrupting her. "You have no clue what bad truly is. And let’s be clear, Zane, you’re not part of the solution. You never have been. You’re just here to take whatever remains. You've always been the one to steal joy, haven’t you? Time and again."

I advanced a step, my eyes filled with rage. "What did you expect from him? Everything? Because you certainly took it all, didn’t you?”

Zane’s expression darkened, her lips forming a tight line, her jaw clenched. She was trying to maintain her composure, as she always did—controlled and calculating. She didn’t have the luxury of expressing her emotions. But I did, and I wasn’t going to hold back.

"I don’t have time for this," Zane replied, her voice low and edged with impatience. "You know we need him. He’s not just a toy to be tossed aside, Feya."

"A toy?" The word stung as it left my mouth. "You think he was just a toy to me? You believe I’m unaware of your actions? You think I don’t see how you’ve manipulated him, ensnared him in your trap?" I stepped closer, my breath quickening. "I know your tactics, Zane. And I’m far from finished."

She inhaled sharply, her eyes locked onto mine. Yet, she was restraining herself. I could sense it—the tension in her stance, the way her hands were balled into fists at her sides. She was barely holding it together.

"Feya, this isn’t the right moment for us to—”

"Not the right moment?" I cut in, my voice quaking with pent-up fury. "You expect me to assist you in locating Killian? You want my help to mend everything? Let me be perfectly clear, Zane. I owe you nothing. Just leave."

Bitterness surged in my throat, threatening to choke me. This woman—this creature—had wreaked havoc, taken so much from all of us. And she had the audacity to stand here asking for assistance?

Before she could reply, a deafening explosion erupted from the boundary. My heart raced, and I instinctively turned toward the noise.

Another blast.

Screams echoed in the distance, and I felt the ground tremble beneath me. Panic thickened the air. People were scattering, yelling, fleeing in all directions. But it was futile. They could never escape what was approaching.

Zane's gaze sharpened, scanning the turmoil for something—or someone. I sensed that, beneath her composed exterior, she was just as terrified as I was. Terrified of what was to come.

Yet she remained resolute. Not yet willing to relent.

I turned my back on her, fists clenched tightly. "I don’t have the time to deal with you, Zane. I need to find a safe place."

She reached out, gripping my arm, and I flinched as if scalded.

"Don't turn your back on me, Feya," she snapped sharply. "I need you to tell me where Killian is. This isn't finished."

"Then let it be," I retorted, wrenching my arm away. "I've had enough of you."

Before she could respond, a louder explosion erupted, sending a surge of fear through me. My instincts screamed for me to escape, to get away before it was too late.

Yet Zane remained in my way, her eyes narrowed in irritation.

"Where is he?" she pressed again, her voice slicing through the chaos.

"Killian is not your business," I shot back, my face flushed with anger. "He doesn't need you anymore. You've taken everything—don't even think you can take him too."

Her gaze darkened momentarily, but before she could reply, I felt a sharp sting at the back of my neck.

I froze, my body seizing up as a wave of dizziness washed over me. My vision blurred, and I began to sway. I fought against it, but my limbs felt heavy, and the world around me started to spin.

"Feya?" Zane's voice sounded far away now, her tone shifting from anger to something else—concern, perhaps.

But it was irrelevant. My body crumpled to the ground, my final thought being the sight of Zane hovering above me—looking down with what seemed like pity.

Then everything faded to black.