Page 103 of Cruel Cravings

It was true.

All the patients at the hospital had one implanted. Jael had no idea about hers. If she had left to find her sister and Raskova, then we would be able to track her.

My father watched the realization flicker in my eyes, tilting his head to the side. “You’re in agony, aren’t you? I hear it in your irregular breathing. The effort it takes you to keep going. When was the last time you took your meds?”

I refused to answer, though it was useless; we both knew the extent of the pain I was in. My entire existence had become living with the debilitating pain from the fall.

It had been weeks since I left the hospital to follow Jael. The struggle increased by the day. The pain was reaching a level even I couldn’t stand, echoing through every part of my broken, disfigured body.

“Let me help you,” my father said. “We’ll get you your meds and I’ll show you the tracker location. Then you can go find her. You can go off with her like you’ve always wanted.”

My jaw tightened as I regarded him. If not for the sharp, aching torment sawing away at me from the inside, I might’ve turned him down.

I might’ve been too stubborn to ever take help from a man who’s spent his existence repulsed by me.

But my body was breaking down and the fight to keep going had taken its toll. Reluctantly, I gave a nod.

He smirked. “I knew you’d see reason sooner or later.”

The Caplan Hills overlooks the thick forest that serves as a barrier between any nearby cities and the secluded hilltop, where the wealthy buy silence and isolation.

Dmitri Raskova wasn’t the only eccentric rich person to build a mansion this far removed from the rest of society, but his estate sits at the very top. The property has been forgotten, the trees overgrown and the wrought-iron gates covered in webs from lack of use. They groan as I force them open.

The driveway is cracked, weeds splitting through stone. The house itself is massive, made up of marble and intricate carvings, but the windows are dark and lifeless. I enter without hesitation, aware there’s a low chance anyone living is inside.

Dust floats in the air and settles on the once polished floors. I pass through, observing every detail of the place, searching for the slightest sign she was here. The massive staircase splits into twin paths leading to the upper floors, but I don’t stop to admire the architecture. I tear through the house.

Room by room, I turn over the furniture, kick open doors, wrench curtains apart and empty closets. The silence presses in, suffocating, making my pulse hammer in my ears. I open closets, flip mattresses, check behind bookshelves for hidden doors.

She has to be here.

Thetrackershows that she is in the Caplan Hills. I saw it with my own two eyes.

But the deeper into the mansion I search, there’s no evidence to be found.

There’s no proof her sister or Raskova were ever even here.

I stagger outside, into the forest, lungs burning as I run. The mist clings to my skin, curling around the trees. My breath comes out ragged, harsh against the stillness, eyes peering through the slits in my mask for any sign of her. And then?—

Leaves rustle in the distance as someone flits by.

My heart lurches and I let out a desperate grunt. I surge forward, my boots crashing down on the earth.

I push harder, cutting a direct path to the point where I saw...

I slow down as I reach the area and realize it was nothing. It was some woodland creature scurrying through.

Jael’s not here and she never was.

I return to my father, barely containing my rage. He sits at his desk, calm and composed yet concentrating hard on his work at the hospital. When I walk through the door, he brings up the tracking map again. The dot glows on his screen, the location the same.

“She’s still in the Caplan Hills,” he says, gesturing to the map. “It shows she’s on the Raskova estate. It’s possible—you may not want to face it—but perhaps she doesn’t want you to find her.”

I return a second time. I search for days. I don’t sleep, don’t eat, don’t stop moving. All I do is scour the area for her, even the other estates that exist in the Caplan Hills. At one of the homes, I’m confronted by a security guard, who I give a concussion to, slamming his skull into the stone wall that surrounded the property.

The rage consumes me as I search the Caplan Hills until it feels like I’m on the brink of insanity.

I storm into my father’s home a second time and shatter everything within reach. Vases explode against the walls. Glass rains down like shards of ice. My mother screams, cowering in the corner as I tear through their belongings, my breath heaving.

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