Chapter 5

Elena POV

The private airstrip was bathed in the harsh, clinical light of halogen lamps. It felt sterile. Efficient.

It smelled of jet fuel and money.

My father's security team moved around me like a phalanx. They were imposing men in dark suits, their expressions unreadable, their presence a living fortress.

"Miss Sterling," the head of security, a man named Kane, said softly. He draped a heavy wool coat over my shoulders. "The medical team is on the plane. They are ready for you."

I sat in the wheelchair, feeling impossibly small. I felt like a porcelain doll that had been smashed against a wall and glued back together with the wrong pieces.

"Thank you," I said.

My father hadn't come himself-he was in Tokyo closing a deal-but his influence was everywhere. The plane was a Gulfstream, sleek and silver. It was a chariot waiting to carry me out of hell.

A young woman, an Omega with kind eyes, walked up to me. "I'm Sarah, your father's assistant. We have everything you need. Clothes, food... pain management."

She looked at me as if I were precious. As if I mattered. It was so foreign I almost flinched.

"I just want to sleep," I said.

"You will," she promised. "You're safe now."

We were moving toward the ramp when I heard it. The guttural roar of an engine.

A black SUV tore onto the tarmac, bypassing the outer security. It skidded to a halt fifty yards away, tires screeching against the pavement.

My heart hammered against my ribs. Damien.

The door opened.

But it wasn't Damien who stepped out first. It was Victoria's driver. And then, Damien.

He looked disheveled. He was wearing the same clothes from the hospital, stained and wrinkled. He looked around wildly, his eyes scanning the row of planes.

He was looking for me.

"Go," I told Kane, my voice trembling. "Get me on the plane."

"Wait," Sarah said, looking at the car. "Is that...?"

Damien's eyes swept over our group. For a terrifying second, his gaze landed on me.

But I was surrounded by guards. I was wrapped in a coat that wasn't mine. I was sitting in a wheelchair.

He didn't recognize me.

He looked right through me, searching for the Luna he knew. The woman who stood tall and took his abuse. He didn't see the broken thing in the chair.

Victoria leaned out of the car window. She shouted something at him, pointing impatiently at her watch.

Damien hesitated. He looked at the plane, then back at the car.

He got back in the car.

He turned his back. Again.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"He didn't see you," Sarah whispered.

"No," I said, my voice gaining strength. "He never did."

I reached into my pocket. I pulled out the copy of the separation agreement-the one I had kept for myself. The paper was crinkled, stained with a single drop of dried blood.

I didn't need it. I didn't need a piece of paper to tell me I was free.

I tore it in half. Then in quarters.

I threw the pieces onto the tarmac. The wind from the jet engines caught them, scattering the white confetti into the dark night.

"Let's go," I said.

Kane pushed the wheelchair up the ramp. I didn't look back at the black SUV. I didn't look back at the Pack lands that were now just fading lights in the distance.

The cabin door closed with a heavy thud, sealing out the noise, the cold, and the past.

As the plane taxied down the runway, I felt the vibration in my bones. We lifted off, the gravity pressing me into the seat.

I looked out the window as the ground fell away. The world below became small. Damien became small.

I placed a hand on my empty, aching stomach.

"I promise," I whispered to the clouds. "I will never be weak again."

The plane banked left, turning toward the mountains, toward Zurich, toward a future that belonged only to me.

I was Elena Sterling. And I was finally awake.