My mate send me to mental hospital

I dislocated my shoulder breaking free from that hellish ward. The first thing I did when I stumbled into liberty?

Filed for a donation.

The guy behind the desk looked at me with pity swimming in his eyes.

"Emily, we're obligated to tell you this is a special donation. Your body will be used to test a new silver nitrate compound-specifically calibrated to dissolve lycanthropic cells. By dawn, there might not even be a sliver of bone left."

I pressed a hand to my aching shoulder, the cracked bones making every word feel like it was scraping through a busted fan.

I forced a smile, uglier than a sob.

"Couldn't ask for a better deal."

I didn't have much time left anyway. Might as well do something for the great pack.

My medical chart screamed the truth in big, ugly letters: Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis. Most folks know it as ALS, the freezing disease.

I got the short end of the stick-complications sparked a lung infection. Three weeks, tops, is what the healers gave me.

The guy's eyes softened even more.

"Thank you for your contribution to the pack's research. This payment's a small token. Please, take it."

My hands wouldn't stop shaking as I reached for the cash.

Side effect of all those nerve meds they pumped into me.

No controlling it. I planned to donate every cent to the pup shelter, swing by the pack's burial grounds one last time to settle my heart, then I'd be ready to face the end.

I staggered out the door and immediately spotted them-three wolves lurking behind a jagged boulder, waiting to pounce.

"There she is!" one barked.

"Little stray, you thought you could run? We'll shock you 'til you drop!" another growled.

I bolted, shoulders screaming with pain, blood and fear flooding my senses.

My body twitched with terror as I barreled into the nearest building, the one crawling with enforcers.

I was moving too fast, too desperate.

I slammed right into someone.

The chest I crashed into was solid as stone, leaving me dizzy.

Amid the chaos of gasps and shouts, a familiar, icy scent hit me-a scent I'd know anywhere.

Then his voice, low and sharp, cut through the noise. "

Emily."

Three years since I'd last seen him, and Damian Wolfe looked even more like the untouchable alpha he'd become.

His sharp, elegant features were colder now, his eyes carrying that same distant chill. But the way he looked at me? That was new.

Pure disgust, laced with hate.

My heart twisted so hard I thought it'd snap.

Tears burned my eyes. "Damian," I whispered.

The wolves chasing me faltered when they saw him, their bravado crumbling.

Damian's gaze stayed locked on me, his face a mask of ice.

"Who gave you permission to crawl back here?"

I dropped my head, silent.

He didn't know. Of course he didn't.

That rich pup had me thrown into the mental hospital, where I'd been tortured for Three years.

His eyes flicked to the wolves behind me, then to the cash strewn across the ground. One of them jumped, pointing a claw.

"Damian, this gutter rat filched our savings!"

Damian let out a cold, bitter laugh.

"Emily, you've sunk this low?"

I gripped my spasming hand, desperate to shake my head.

"Damian," a silky voice interrupted.

A she-wolf glided forward, her curves practically purring as she hooked her arm through his. She looked at me, feigning surprise.

"Emily!?"

My blood turned to ice.

Brielle Monroe. The she-wolf who'd made my life a living nightmare.

Back then, when my parents died and the grief crushed me, I flunked my exams and ended up in a dead-end school. That's when the torment started.

Ripped books, desks littered with used needles, shredded uniforms, bathroom floors sticky with spilled chemicals.(

I spiraled into depression, and Brielle was the monster at the center of it all-the she-wolf I feared and hated most.

Until Damian, the wolf I grew up with, found out.

He dropped out of his fancy school, transferred to mine, and tore through everyone who'd hurt me.

Brielle was forced out, and I could finally breathe again.

When the nightmares from the bullying came back, Damian was there, whispering, "I'm here," over and over, holding my hand, guiding me back to the light.

Ten years back: Moonlit mating, fangs brushing lips.​

Eight years: Clawed ecstasy, howls merging.​

Six years: Swore the blood oath-pack, forever.​

Three years: I torched his wolf-sister.

Now his fangs seek my throat.

And now, the wolf I loved more than anything was standing side by side with the she-wolf I despised.

Mates.