When every last ounce of energy leaves me and my hands are throbbing, I finally slump to the floor in front of the training bag, staring at the ripped hole in the leather. Sand and stuffing spill out in a heap, each grain representing hours of anger and frustration that I’d finally managed to purge. My fingers ache, bruised and broken, but there’s a twisted satisfaction in the pain. I want them all to feel this—to feel what it’s like to shatter under pressure, to break from carrying the burden alone.

At some point, sleep must have taken over because the next thing I know, I’m waking up to whispered voices and the sterile smell of antiseptic. My body feels stiff, heavier than I remember. The sheets are scratchy, not like the ones in my room. This isn’t my bed, not even my room at the pack house.

“She’s broken every bone in her hands and fractured her forearms.” The low voice outside my door stirs the beginnings of memory.

“She punched a hole through a brand-new bag. It’s possible, trust me,” someone mutters back.

I want to yell at them to shut up, but the pain in my chest pulls me back down. This exhaustion is different. It’s like my bones are weighed down with the pressure I’ve been holding in, pressing on me with each breath.

The beeping of machines jolts me awake, and I mutter, “Can someone turn that off?”

“Oh, Selene, thank the goddess you’re awake!” Luna Ava’s soft hand clasps mine, and her face breaks into a relieved smile.

“Luna?” I blink, trying to pull myself back into reality. “Where am I?”

“You’re in the pack hospital. You collapsed in the training room, and Brett couldn’t get you to wake up. We had to bring you here.” She squeezes my hand, and I wince at the pressure.

The fragmented conversation I’d overheard returns, and I pull away, scanning the room. “And all that out there? The doctors talking about stress fractures and old injuries?”

Luna Ava’s face darkens. “I had no idea…how bad it was.”

My voice rises, raw and edged with frustration. “Of course you didn’t. It’s not your fault, but no one has bothered to ask, either. The beatings, the injuries? They’re routine. If anyone actually cared, something would have changed by now. But no one does, so I handle it on my own.”

“Selene…” Her voice trembles, and her eyes fill with tears. I know she’s trying to help, but right now, it only fuels the ache in my chest.

“No, it’s true. I’ve had to keep my head down and stay out of sight. At school, no one bats an eye when someone’s absent for days or has bruises that have nothing to do with training.” I glare toward the crack in the door, hoping the entire hallway can hear me. “People stay silent because speaking up gets them nowhere. Only the future ranked members get attention; the rest of us don’t matter. So, why would I tell anyone when there’s no one to tell?”

Luna Ava recoils slightly, sadness and shock etched in her expression. She opens her mouth to respond, but the words die in her throat. I yank the IV out of my arm, clenching my teeth against the sting, and pull off the monitor pads. I’m done with this. I don’t belong here, stuck in a hospital, waiting to heal. Healing on my own terms is all I know.

“Selene, please. I understand you want to leave, but let’s talk this through. We’ll arrange for you to rest somewhere you’re comfortable.”

She reaches out to me, but I pull back. Part of me regrets it, but the pain is too fresh, my frustration with everyone’s sudden interest in me too overwhelming. The clean clothes on the chair catch my eye, and I head over, shedding the hospital gown without a second thought. The physical scars on my skin barely register anymore; they’re part of me now, and if anyone here wants to help, they’ll have to accept that too.

“I’m going back to the Beta house. It’s where I’ve always had freedom, where I don’t have to check in with everyone and ask for permission just to breathe. Trying to change for everyone else only seems to make things worse.” I glance back at her, my voice hollow. “I’m broken, and I know that. I don’t need anyone pretending they can fix me when they’re only now realizing I’m here.”

The pain in her eyes sharpens, but she lets me go. “If that’s what you need, Selene. But know that we’re here if you decide to stay.”

I push past her and step into the hallway. Ryan, Aaron, Ethan, and Kylie stand clustered by the door, red-eyed and grief-stricken, like my scars are new to them. My father lingers behind them, looking vaguely ashamed, but I know it’s all an act. If he cared, he would’ve stepped in years ago.

With a roll of my eyes, I turn away from them all and walk out of the hospital. I feel their stares on me, but I don’t look back, refusing to let them see how every step feels like breaking something inside me all over again.

Outside, I take off, running through the woods until I reach the Beta house. The pain in my legs only spurs me faster, giving me the clarity I crave. The house is empty, and I slip in quietly, the silence an odd comfort. I reach my room and collapse on the bed, staring at the ceiling as anger and exhaustion pulse through me in equal measure.

After a while, I head for the shower, letting the hot water wash away the traces of self-destruction. I keep my thoughts at bay, ignoring the memories and the lingering looks on their faces, just scrubbing until I feel like myself again.

By the time I’m dressed, I realize my school bag is still at the pack house, and I have no choice but to sneak back in. With everyone probably still at the hospital or sulking, I slip out of the window and head to school instead, taking a route through the forest to avoid detection.

School is empty when I arrive, lunch still a ways off, and I slip through a side door I jimmied open years ago, a silent escape I’d used many times before. I weave through the hallways, careful to avoid the cameras. At least I know my way around the school well enough to stay out of sight. Now, I just need to figure out where to start.

Maybe Doc T. would help me catch up, but that would only land me right back in the pack hospital. No, I need someone who’s too uninterested in pack drama to report me. Mr. Lyons, my history teacher, is old and generally unimpressed by pack gossip. His class is empty when I reach it, and I feel the tension ease a bit. I push the door open, hoping that whatever happens next, I can manage to handle it on my own terms.