Anabel

"What are you doing here?" I snapped the moment I saw her face, my pulse leaping straight into my throat. Panic sharpened my tone as I immediately tried to push the door shut, my body angling just enough to block her view of the room behind me, of Noah.

"Can’t you speak?" I added, my voice rising despite myself when she didn’t answer immediately.

"I came to pick up something I forgot," Maria replied softly.

I stiffened.

Forgot?

The word echoed in my head, sharp and unpleasant. My fingers tightened around the doorframe as my thoughts spiraled wildly.

So she had been here before.

Alone.

With Noah.

A bitter heat crawled up my spine.

What on earth were they doing in this room together?

"And what exactly were you doing in this room that you forgot something?" I asked, my voice turning cold as I shoved the door tighter, as though forcing it closed could also shut out the thoughts clawing at my mind.

She looked at me for a long moment, her expression unreadable, then spoke again, too calmly for my liking.

"Ms. Anabel," she said, almost politely, "please kindly ask Alpha Noah to come out. I need to talk to him."

What?

For a second, I thought I had misheard her.

There was absolutely no way I was letting this rogue ruin everything. No way I was letting her step even one foot closer to him. I had planned too much. Risked too much.

I straightened, lifting my chin, letting authority coat my words like armor.

"Do you think you have the right to see him whenever you please?" I snapped. "He is an Alpha. And right now, he is not in the mood to see anyone."

My heart was pounding so loudly I was sure she could hear it. Every second she stood there felt dangerous. All I wanted, needed, was for her to leave. Immediately.

By now, Noah should have been completely unconscious. The drugs should have won against his resistance. He had been swaying, fighting, barely holding on when I left him.

He should be silent.

Unaware.

Mine to deal with.

Maria’s shoulders drooped slightly, her eyes dimming as if something inside her had gone out.

"Okay," she said quietly.

Relief rushed through me so fast my knees nearly buckled.

She turned to leave, her steps slow, her back to me, and just as I began to relax, just as I allowed myself to believe it was over....

"Maria." Noah’s voice drifted from the room behind me.

Low.

Weak.

But unmistakably his.

My blood ran cold.

I cursed under my breath, every muscle in my body locking up as fear and rage collided violently inside me.

What exactly was wrong with him?

Why couldn’t he just pass out like he was supposed to?

Why—after everything—couldn’t he just let me have my way?

Maria froze mid-step.

It was subtle, almost easy to miss if I hadn’t been watching her so closely. But I saw it, the way her shoulders went rigid, the way her spine stiffened as though an invisible hand had pressed against her back. Her head tilted slightly to the side, just a fraction, like someone replaying words in their mind, trying to decide if they’d truly heard what they thought they had.

But she had.

Of course she had.

Even weakened, even strained, his voice carried weight. Authority. Meaning. It slipped through walls and doors, threading itself into the air, refusing to be ignored. Noah had always been like that. When he spoke, people listened, whether they wanted to or not.

I felt it then.

That horrible, sinking sensation in my chest.

I felt everything starting to slip.

I tightened my grip on the edge of the door until my fingers ached, nails biting into the wood as if I could anchor myself there, as if holding on hard enough might stop the moment from unraveling. A strained smile pulled at my lips as I stepped forward quickly, shifting my body just enough to block her line of sight again. My pulse thundered in my ears, loud enough that I was sure she could hear it.

"You must be mistaken," I said, too fast, the words tumbling over one another. "Alpha Noah isn’t feeling well. You should leave."

Even as I spoke, I heard it.

The weakness.

The fragility.

The words sounded thin, hollow, like glass stretched too far, ready to crack under the slightest pressure. Lies, poorly disguised, trembling on the edge of exposure.

From inside the room, there was movement.

A faint shuffle. Fabric brushing against skin. A breath dragged in too slowly, too unevenly. It wasn’t loud, but it was there, proof of life, proof of resistance.

He was still conscious.

Still fighting.

And she was still standing right in front of me.

My heart hammered violently as Maria turned back toward me, her brows knitting together, confusion flickering quickly into concern. It was written all over her face, open and unguarded, as though she didn’t know how to hide what she felt. Her eyes searched mine, questioning, unsettled.

This wasn’t how it was supposed to go.

Not like this.

I had been so close. Close enough to taste victory, close enough to believe I had everything under control. And now, with a single whispered name, everything threatened to collapse right in front of me.

"Noah!"

Maria spun around instantly, the sound sharp and desperate as it tore from her throat. Her eyes widened, fear blooming across her face so quickly it made my stomach twist. She took a step toward the door, drawn forward by instinct, by something she clearly couldn’t suppress.

"What’s wrong with Noah?" she asked, her voice soft but urgent, trembling with genuine concern. "Is he having a panic attack like he used to?"

That concern, raw, unfiltered, snapped something inside me.

The way she said his name.

The way her voice softened around it, like it belonged to her.

The way her eyes kept trying to look past me, searching for him, reaching for him, as if she had any right to be there. As if she was entitled to that fear, that closeness.

It burned.

It twisted.

It pissed me off beyond words.

And standing there, blocking the door with my body and my lies, I realized just how fragile my control really was, and how dangerously close everything was to falling apart.

"What panic attack are you talking about?" I snapped, my tone sharp as I forced myself to stand straighter, to look unbothered. Calm. In control. "Noah is doing just fine."

My heart was racing so fast it felt like it might rip out of my chest, but I refused to let it show. I couldn’t afford to panic, not now. Not because of her.

I could not jeopardize everything I had planned because of a worthless rogue.

Not after all I had done.

Not after how close I was.

If I needed to pour out my anger on her later, I would. There would be time for that. Plenty of it. But right now, she needed to leave.

"But he called my name just..." she began, her brows drawing together in confusion, her voice trailing as she tried to reason with me.

"Oh, shut it!" I yelled, cutting her off violently. The sound of my own voice echoed down the hallway, harsher than I intended, but I didn’t care. "Get out. Now. Before I lose my temper."

I stepped closer, forcing my presence into her space, daring her to challenge me. My fingers dug into my palms as I held myself back, every nerve screaming.

Just leave.

Just walk away.

For a split second, she hesitated. I could see the conflict on her face, concern warring with fear, obedience clashing with instinct. My nails bit harder into my skin.

Move.

And then....

Chaos.

A loud noise erupted somewhere down the hallway, metal crashing, followed by shouting. My head snapped toward the sound just as voices rose, sharp and frantic.

"Fire! Fire!"

The word tore through the air like a blade.

A rogue came running down the hall, his face pale with panic as he shouted at the top of his lungs, drawing attention from every direction. Footsteps thundered behind him as people poured into the corridor, Gammas, Betas, Omegas, everyone rushing toward the source of the alarm.

My blood ran cold.

No.

No, no, no.

This couldn’t be happening.

The hallway that had moments ago been quiet exploded with movement and noise. Voices overlapped, confusion spreading like wildfire. People were coming this way.

Toward this room.

Toward Noah.

My mind raced violently, thoughts crashing into one another.

My plan had failed.

Completely.

How was I supposed to explain this?

How was I supposed to explain why Alpha Noah was on the ground, unconscious? Why he hadn’t responded? Why I had been alone with him behind closed doors?

Panic clawed at my throat as I took an involuntary step back, my gaze flicking to the door, then to Maria, who was already turning fully toward the chaos, her earlier confusion sharpening into alarm.

I swallowed hard.

Think, Anabel. Think.

But my thoughts were unraveling too fast. Everything was slipping out of my control, piece by piece, and there was nothing I could do to stop it.

I felt heat burn behind my eyes as anger surged up, hot and vicious, searching for a target.

And it found one.

I hate you, Maria, I muttered silently, my jaw tightening as the crowd drew closer, voices growing louder, footsteps pounding like a countdown to my undoing.

If she hadn’t come.

If she hadn’t spoken.

If she hadn’t cared.

None of this would be happening.

Now, with the fire alarm blaring through the hallway and people rushing toward us, I knew, deep down, that everything I had carefully set in motion was about to come crashing down.

And there was no stopping it anymore.