Chapter 100
Ellie's POV
The clock on the wall read 6:00 PM when Professor Blackwood finally called time.
I set down my pencil and flexed my cramped fingers, feeling the tension drain from my shoulders. Around me, other students were gathering their belongings with various expressions of relief, exhaustion, or defeat. Computer Architecture—the last exam of finals week—was finally behind me.
"Oh my god, I'm free." Megan slumped against me as we filed out of Hartley Hall. "Actually free. No more all-nighters, no more energy drinks for breakfast."
The winter air hit us like a slap, cold and sharp, but I didn't mind. It felt cleansing after hours in the stuffy exam room.
My phone buzzed with a text from Lily: Ryan and I are going to dinner and a movie! You guys have fun!
Megan read over my shoulder and grinned. "Look at her, all coupled up. Remember when she swore she'd never date a med student because they're too busy?"
"That was before she met Ryan." I smiled, genuinely happy for them. They'd been dancing around each other for weeks before finally getting together.
"So." Megan linked her arm through mine as we walked toward the dorms. "What's the plan? Pizza and a movie marathon in our room?"
I was about to agree when she stopped suddenly.
"Actually... do we really want to spend our first night of freedom in the dorm?" She looked at me with hopeful eyes. "We could go out. Just the two of us. Nothing crazy, just... a drink or two? To celebrate surviving?"
Something in my gut twisted—that instinct Thalia usually gave me when danger was near. But I pushed it down. Megan had been through hell this semester with the online harassment, and even though we'd dealt with it, she deserved a night to just breathe.
"You know what? Yeah. Let's do it."
Her face lit up. "Really?"
"Really. We've earned it."
The Moonlight Lounge was exactly the kind of place we needed—cozy lighting, soft jazz playing in the background, and a crowd of young professionals unwinding after work. Not too loud, not too crowded. Perfect.
We found a booth in the corner, and I felt myself relaxing for the first time in weeks. Megan ordered a blue margarita, and I got a mojito, savoring the fresh mint and lime.
"To surviving finals," Megan raised her glass.
"To surviving everything," I clinked mine against hers.
We talked about nothing important and everything that mattered—her plans for winter break, my project with Sophia, whether Lily and Ryan would last past the honeymoon phase. The conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter.
I didn't notice when the bartender watched me head to the bathroom. Didn't see what he added to my drink while I was gone.
When I returned and took a sip, the mojito tasted slightly off—more bitter than before. I frowned but took another drink, attributing it to a different bartender or cheaper rum.
The room started to swim about ten minutes later.
"Meg..." My tongue felt thick, uncooperative. "Something's wrong."
Her face blurred at the edges, concern evident even through my failing vision. "Ellie? What do you mean?"
I tried to stand, but my legs buckled. The floor tilted sickeningly, and I grabbed the table for support. This isn't alcohol. This is something else.
"Oh my god!" Megan was at my side instantly, her arm around my waist. "Ellie, what's happening?"
I tried to call for Thalia, to access the strength that lived beneath my skin, but she was distant, unreachable. Drugged. I've been drugged.
"Let me help." A man's voice, smooth and professional. "I'm a paramedic. Looks like she's had too much to drink."
No. I wanted to scream, to tell Megan it was a lie, but my mouth wouldn't form words. The world was tilting, darkening.
"I'll take her to get checked out," the man said. "You should stay here, pay the tab. Then you can meet us at the hospital."
"I should go with her—" Megan's voice was fading, distant.
"It's better if she's not jostled too much. I'll take good care of her."
The last thing I heard was Megan's worried voice asking which hospital, and then everything went black.
Cold woke me.
Not the uncomfortable chill of a winter night, but bone-deep, penetrating cold that made my teeth chatter violently. I tried to move and felt resistance—metal biting into my wrists.
My eyes flew open.
I was in some kind of structure made of ice—thick, translucent walls that glowed faintly blue in the moonlight filtering through a small opening above. My arms were pulled behind me, chained to a wooden post. And beneath my feet...
Water.
It was seeping up through cracks in the ice floor, already covering my sneakers, shockingly cold even through the numbness.
"Help!" I screamed, yanking against the chains. Pain seared through my wrists where the metal touched skin. "Somebody help me!"
The sound died in the vast emptiness outside. Wherever I was, it was remote. Isolated.
Thalia. I reached inward, desperate. Please, I need you.
But there was only silence. Not the comfortable presence of my wolf sleeping, but an artificial emptiness—like someone had built a wall between us.
Wolfsbane. They'd drugged me with wolfsbane.
Panic clawed at my throat as I looked around more carefully. This wasn't just a random ice structure.
The water reached my ankles, creeping steadily higher. The ice beneath me groaned, shifting. How long before it gave way completely? How long before I was pulled under?
Think, Ellie. Who knew what you are? Who would do this?
The man's face flashed through my mind—the one who'd claimed to be a paramedic. There was something familiar about him, something that tugged at the edges of my memory. Had I seen him before? Was he Samantha's foster brother? The one she'd mentioned in passing?
But I couldn't focus on that now. The water was at my knees, and the cold was stealing my ability to think clearly.
I pulled against the chains again, ignoring the searing pain. But my human strength wasn't enough, and without Thalia...
The water reached my thighs.
I'm going to die here.
The thought was strangely calm. Detached. Was this what hypothermia felt like? This creeping acceptance?
Images flashed through my mind. Dad teaching me to code. Mom's laugh. Lily and Megan's faces. Jackson—
Jackson.
His careful hands bandaging my burns. His smile when he thought I wasn't looking. The way we moved together when we danced, like two parts of a whole.
I'd never told him. Never said the words that had been building in my chest for weeks.
The water reached my waist, and my shivering became violent, uncontrollable. My thoughts grew sluggish, confused.
I'm sorry, I thought, to everyone I'd never see again. I tried.
The water touched my chest.
And then—
THUD.
The sound made me jerk, what little energy I had left surging with desperate hope. Another thud, and another. Something was hitting the ice wall from outside.
"Help!" I screamed, finding my voice again. "I'm in here!"
"ELLIE!"
Jackson's voice. Rough with terror, muffled by the thick ice, but unmistakably his.
"Jackson!" Tears streamed down my face, freezing on my cheeks. "Jackson, I'm here!"
The pounding intensified, desperate strikes that made the whole structure shudder. Through the translucent ice, I could see his shadow—see him throwing his body against the wall over and over.
But the ice was too thick. Each impact created only small cracks, spider-web fractures that didn't break through.
The water reached my shoulders.
"Jackson, the chains!" I called out. "I can't break them!"