A leather binding rested around his wrist where the healers had tied a charm threaded with wolfsbane-neutralizing herbs—standard practice when a wolf suffered a violent shift or spirit injury. A bowl of steaming tonic herbs sat beside the bed, its scent sharp and bitter in the air.
Yet Marcus hadn’t stirred in days.
The faint aura of his wolf flickered weakly around him—like the last sparks of a dying fire.
And I was running out of coin.
Caleb had made certain of that.
My former mate didn’t simply want Marcus punished.
He wanted me ruined.
Every bit of work I managed to find slipped away within days. A stable job might last a week—two if the Moon was feeling generous. A month at most before the same hollow excuse arrived from nervous employers who refused to meet my eyes.
Pack restructuring.
New hires.
Unexpected changes.
Lies.
All of it.
This had nothing to do with work.
This was Caleb Lutherford’s reach tightening around my throat.
He wanted to drive me into a corner. To starve me of options until I crawled back to him, head bowed like a disgraced omega begging forgiveness.
Until I accepted whatever humiliating conditions he chose to grant me and called it mercy.
But I wouldn’t.
I couldn’t.