Chapter 82
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Riley’s body had long since been broken beyond repair–there was no way she could survive another prison
sentence.
Even Tessa, now in a vegetative state, had made it clear that Riley wasn’t the one who harmed her That meant Riley had spent five years in prison for a crime she didn’t commit.
She had borne punishments that were never hers to bear.
A crippled leg, a missing kidney–her once healthy body had been reduced to this fragile shell.
She had once been the top student at Mooncrest Academy, a brilliant scholar with a bright future. But all of that had been taken from her the moment she stepped into the prison.
Now, watching Maddox cradle her emaciated form in his arms, Kael Vale felt as if every breath he took came with searing pain. He couldn’t stop picturing her five years of suffering behind bars, the endless. torment she must have endured.
“Kael…” Scarlett tried to speak, but Kael silenced her with a deadly glare.
The enforcers–wolf–shifters responsible for upholding pack law–understood this was more than just a family matter. After briefly checking the wounds of Kael and Luna Zara, they took their leave, knowing it wasn’t their place to intervene further.
The moment the enforcers left, all the tension holding Kael and Luna Zara upright gave way. Exhaustion crashed over them like a tidal wave.
Zara, having lost too much blood, finally collapsed with a heavy thud, her body falling into the pool of blood beneath her.
Kael, ghost–pale and barely standing, swayed on his feet.
Scarlett exchanged a glance with the Matron of the medical center–there was unmistakable
disappointment in both their eyes. Still, they composed themselves quickly and called for aides to take Kael and Zara away for urgent care.
Once they were gone, silence blanketed the room.
Maddox looked down at the unconscious Riley, anxiety etched into every line of his face. Instinctively, he bent to lift her into his arms.
But Mia blocked him, fierce as a mother wolf protecting her pup. She shoved him back, her eyes blazing. “Don’t think that saving her just now erases the fact that you helped send her to prison five years ago. You, the Ebonclaw Pack, and Ronan Duskcliff–none of you are innocent p>
Maddox stumbled back, as if her words had struck a vital blow. He felt as though the air had been knocked out of him.
Mia’s accusation cut like a blade.
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His lips parted, searching for a defense, but every word he might’ve said felt shallow. Useless.
Finished
In his mind, he couldn’t stop seeing the moment Tessa–beloved daughter of the Blackmaw Pack–had finally confirmed that Riley was innocent. That memory echoed like thunder, each repetition a hammer striking his guilt–ridden heart.
He had once believed Scarlett to be sweet and harmless. There was no way, he’d thought, she could harm her best friend.
Riley, on the other hand, was stronger. Resilient. Always able to endure. She was Scarlett’s older sister–what harm could come from her taking the fall?
He had told himself that five years was nothing. Riley would be twenty–three when she got out. Still young. She could start over.
He’d never imagined that those years would ruin her. That she’d be beaten. Maimed. Broken.
Now that the truth was out, regret consumed him.
Maddox could only stand and watch as Mia knelt and gently carried Riley on her back, treating her like the most precious treasure in the world.
With the help of Matriarch Duskgrave and Mrs. Beck, they left the hospital room slowly, step by agonizing
step.
Maddox remained frozen, like a statue carved from grief. The sunlight filtering through the windows lit his figure, but none of its warmth reached him.
His soul had already fled, leaving behind only a hollow shell, trembling beneath the weight of guilt.
“Riley…” he whispered finally, his voice hoarse and choked. Tears welled in his eyes–something no one had ever seen from him before.
When Riley awoke, the sky outside was pitch–black.
The hospital room was dim. The only light came from the hallway beyond the door’s frosted glass, casting a faint patchwork of shadows on the floor.
the door
She lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, her body motionless, as if the soul had been drained from her. She didn’t blink, didn’t move, for what felt like an eternity.
Then, slowly, she pulled back the covers and climbed out of bed. Her body moved with the stiffness of someone ancient, decayed.
She opened the door and stepped out without a sound, her footsteps unsteady as she wandered through the quiet corridor.
Dim lights cast her silhouette against the walls–small, broken, and utterly alone.
She kept walking, without knowing where she was going.
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Eventually, she found herself on a pedestrian bridge. She came to a stop, looking down at the black, silent
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river below.
The night wind whispered against her skin.
She raised one leg and began to climb over the railing.
Then, a deep male voice called out, “Suicide p>
She paused. The voice was vaguely familiar, but her mind was so numb, she barely registered it.
Still, she kept moving, beginning to haul herself over.
The voice came again–calm, emotionless. “If you’re going to kill yourself, could you at least pick somewhere more private p>
That time, she hesitated again. Did it really matter?
Finished
The man’s voice continued, casual but oddly sharp, “If I walk away, I seem heartless. If I interfere, I’m meddling with fate. Either way, there’s nothing in it for me p>
Finally, she turned her head.
And her eyes met his.
It was him–the man from the stairwell. The one who’d offered her a cigarette when she was at her lowest.
He stood there beneath a flickering streetlamp, cigarette between his fingers. Smoke curled upward, catching in the breeze. The faint light traced the edges of his chiseled features, cloaking the rest in shadow.
With a flick of his long, elegant fingers, he tapped ash onto the pavement.
Even that simple gesture looked impossibly refined.
“Want one?” he asked, lifting the cigarette toward her with a raised brow.
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