Chapter 46

Blake’s POV

I saw the movement in the window—the flash of Louisa’s blonde hair and the glint of the silver at Libby’s throat. My heart stopped.

"Louisa!" I called out, my voice dropping to a low, dangerous tone. "You think you’re honoring your mother? Julianne is a coward. She hid in the shadows for sixteen years because she knew she was wrong. Are you a coward, too? Or are you going to face me like a wolf?"

I saw Louisa’s face appear at the glass, her expression a mask of pure, distorted grief. "I'm not a coward!" she shrieked.

"Then prove it," I said, taking a slow, deliberate step toward the porch. "Let her go. This is between you and me. This is about the Blackwood name. Don't let Libby pay for a debt she doesn't owe."

I saw the knife move. I saw the way Louisa’s hand shook. She was breaking. I just needed one more second. One more breath.

"Come on, Louisa," I urged, my amber eyes locking onto hers through the glass. "Drop the knife. End the cycle. Don't let Julianne win from her prison cell."

The silence that followed was the loudest thing I’d ever heard. Then, the sound of metal hitting wood echoed through the cabin. The knife had dropped. I didn't wait. I hit the porch like a thunderbolt, the door splintering into toothpicks as I burst through. I didn't even look at Louisa. I lunged for Libby, pulling her into my arms, my touch frantic as I checked her for wounds.

"I've got you," I choked out, burying my face in her neck, the scent of her finally drowning out the wolfsbane. "I've got you, Libby. You're safe."

Behind us, Louisa collapsed into the corner, burying her face in her hands and sobbing—not like a villain, but like a child who had finally realized the monster she was protecting was real.

I looked over Libby’s shoulder at the broken girl in the corner. I should have killed her. My wolf wanted her head. But as I felt Libby’s heartbeat steady against mine, I knew what she would want.

"Alistair," I spoke through the link, my voice cold and final. "Get a transport team up here. Louisa is going to join her mother in the North. They can spend eternity explaining their 'love' to each other behind bars."

Louisa's POV

The sound of the door splintering was the loudest thing I’d ever heard, but it felt miles away. I didn't even flinch when the room flooded with the scent of forest and fury. I didn't look up when Blake roared her name and gathered her into his arms. I just stared at the dust motes dancing in the light coming through the hole where the door used to be.

"I could have done it," I whispered, though the words felt like dry leaves in my mouth. "I should have done it."

I felt the heavy, rhythmic thud of boots on the porch. The warriors. Her pack. To them, I was just a stray dog that had bitten the hand of the Alpha. A shadow fell over me. I looked up through the tangle of my hair and saw Alistair. His face wasn't filled with the rage I saw in Blake’s; it was worse. It was filled with a cold, clinical pity.

"Get up, Louisa," he said. His voice was flat, devoid of any warmth or compassion.

I didn't move. I couldn't. The adrenaline that had fueled my year of planning had evaporated, leaving me hollow. "She’s in a cage, Alistair," I rasped, looking toward him. "My mother. She’s in the dark. Because of her."

I flicked my eyes toward Libby, who was buried in Blake’s neck, safe and protected.

"Your mother is in a cage because she built one for someone else," Alistair countered, his voice hard as flint. He reached down, grabbing my arm and hauling me to my feet. My knees buckled, but he held me upright with a grip that bruised. "You had a choice, Louisa. You could have stayed with your Pack. You could have found a way to atone. Instead, you chose the knife."

He dragged me toward the exit. As we passed Blake and Libby, Blake didn't even look at me. He was shielding her, his body a literal wall between us. I was beneath his notice now. I was a nuisance that had been dealt with. The sunlight outside was blinding. Two warriors stood by a black transport van—the kind used for high-risk prisoners. The realization hit me then, a cold splash of reality. I wasn't going to a cell in the Packhouse. I wasn't going to get a trial.

"Where are you taking me?" I asked, my voice rising in a panicked pitch.

"To the North," Alistair said, opening the heavy back door of the van. the interior was lined with reinforced steel. "To the Blackwood Prison. The Alpha decided it was best for the family to stay together."

I stopped dead, my heels digging into the gravel. "No. Not there. Anywhere but there."

"You wanted your mother, Louisa," Alistair said, and for a second, I saw a flash of disgust in his eyes. "Now you get to spend the rest of your life listening to her tell you how much she 'loved' you while you rot behind the same bars."

He shoved me into the dark interior. I fell onto the hard bench, the scent of antiseptic and old fear clogging my lungs. I scrambled back toward the door, reaching out, but the heavy steel panel swung shut. Clack-clack. The bolts slid home. The engine turned over, vibrating through the floor and into my bones. I sat in the dark, the van swaying as it hit the main road, heading away from the only home I’d ever known. I reached into my pocket and felt the small, crumpled photo I’d kept of my stepfather from before he became a ghost. I had wanted justice. I had wanted my family back. Instead, I was traveling toward a mountain of ice to join a woman who didn't even know how to love.

As the van picked up speed, I leaned my head against the cold metal wall and finally, quietly, I started to scream.