Page 100 of Our Deceptive Heat

Envy strums a note.

I forget instantly about everything else. My head jerks up to the stage, staring at him in disbelief. My stomach sinks. Instantly, fear and denial floods my system.

No.

There is no way. What the fuck is he doing?

He plays another few notes.

What are they doing? No. This is a joke, right? Oh, god, oh, god. I can’t go back. What have they done?

I don’t realise I’ve screamed the words until I register my aching throat.

Tyr begins to sing, and the hope that I had, the hope that I’d pinned everything on, goes up in smoke.

I’m not going to be a packs whore.

I won’t.

I’ll die first.

I let out another scream that is drowned in the roar of the crowd, and the song that is killing me.

Tyr looks down. Our eyes clash. He falters, stumbling over the word. That moment goes on and on.

You said you loved me.

You said you wanted to save me.

He hardens his expression and looks away from me, continuing to sing the song that is tearing my heart into tiny pieces.

“You asshole!” I howl.

The walls are closing in; the future is crushing me. I see the path laid out before me, unable to fight an alphas bark as they do unspeakable things, knocking me up, my words buried inside, my voice frozen forever.

I can’t breathe, everything is numb. This was my chance, my shot. Oh, god. How could they do this to me?

I stare at them, willing them to stop, willing them to change their minds. But they sing the crappy song, crooning it to the crowd as if they’re lovers.

And I stare back, wondering who these strangers are.

For the entire first verse of the song, all I can do is stare at the pack that betrayed me. I’ve never felt such pain as I do in that moment. Like someone has ripped open my chest and left me gaping, wounded and ruined.

Their words, their damn promises repeat in my mind, louder even than the roar of their beguiled fans. My breathing hitches in my lungs, even as my fingernails bite into the palms of my hands, digging bloody trenches that I don’t feel.

What am I going to do?

What I’ve always done. Plan B.

The strobe lights dance over the crowd, and the music dulls, merging with the sound of the multitudes. My first step backwards is unconscious. It’s purely instinctive, but it snaps everything into sharp relief.

I whirl and push past the screaming fans, making my way to the exit. It feels like it takes forever, and the whole time, every word they sing, every note they play, drives the betrayal even deeper.

I swipe at the blurriness in my eyes and realise I’m crying. But I grit my teeth and keep moving.

I planned for this. Fucking Ryn Raines, she always has a plan or three. I never leave anything to chance. Even my dreams.

As soon as I’m away from the crowds, I make my way towards the exits, flashing my badge at security and officials alike. They let me pass as I pull out my phone and hold it to my ear.

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