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The room smelled like blood and death, but that wasn't what burned my lungs. No, that was the grief - thick, suffocating, and raw. It clawed at my throat, threatening to break me apart.
The body in my arms was too still, and getting cold. Crimson stained my hands, warm against my trembling fingers as I stroked her hair. Tangled strands clung to her pale face, and I brushed them away gently, even though I knew it didn't matter anymore.
I wasn't sure when the sobs started - maybe when her pulse faded beneath my touch, or maybe when I realized I couldn't fix this. Either way, I didn't fight them. The world was already broken, so what was the point in holding back?
A flicker of movement caught my eye, and my gaze locked onto the most evil being to exist, Cale. He stood across from me, her blood splattered on his clothes, his expression hard and unreadable. His presence was a slap to the face - a brutal reminder of everything that had gone wrong.
And God, where had it gone wrong? Was it the day I moved to this city? If I'd never come here, none of this would've happened. Maybe I wouldn't have been thrown into this twisted world of packs and power struggles. Maybe she wouldn't be dead.
But then... I wouldn't have met him either.
The thought was bitter and beautiful all at once. The love of my life. The man who changed everything.
My chest tightened, and I blinked back the sting of tears. No, I couldn't think about him right now. Not here, not like this. But the memories pushed their way in anyway, relentless and vivid.
It had all started when I moved to this place, naive and hopeful. I hadn't known what waited for me in the shadows.
If I had... would I have stayed?
I looked down at my friend's lifeless face, her blood seeping into the ground beneath us.
Probably not.
But life doesn't give you do-overs, does it?
And that's where the story really began. Back when I thought moving here was the start of something new - a fresh chapter, full of promise and possibility.
I was wrong.
So wrong.
Chapter 1 – The Big Move
The city had always been my prison-a loud, crowded, polluted nightmare where fitting in was a constant battle I never cared to win. The schools were worse. If you weren't in the right clique or didn't know the latest fashion trend, you were practically asking to be bullied. So I perfected the art of blending in, skirting the edges just enough to go unnoticed. Invisible was safe. Invisible was freedom.
That's why, when my parents announced we were moving to a tiny town in Alaska-Juneau of all places-I didn't hesitate. Before they even finished talking, I was on my laptop, fingers flying over the keys as I Googled everything about the place. Small town? Check. Thirty-five thousand people? Even better. Surrounded by mountains and endless forests? Jackpot. It was as if the universe had finally decided to throw me a bone.
My parents were thrilled when I gave them my full support, and honestly, so was I. Leaving New York wasn't hard. I didn't have any real friends-just classmates I occasionally texted about homework or nodded at in the hallways. No tearful goodbyes or heartfelt promises to stay in touch. Just a clean break. On my last day at school, I casually mentioned I was moving. The reactions were exactly what I expected-perfunctory well-wishes and indifferent shrugs. Fine by me. As I walked out of those school doors for the last time, I didn't even glance back.
The next two weeks were a chaotic blur of packing and selling the house. My parents nailed a quick sale, and before I knew it, we were spending our last night in New York. I barely slept, buzzing with anticipation. The next morning, we boarded a flight to our new life-a nine-hour journey to freedom.
Exhaustion hit me hard as soon as we settled into our seats. I was out cold before the plane even left the runway. The next thing I knew, my mom was shaking me awake, her voice practically bursting with excitement.
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