Cass’s POV

"He’s going to be fine, right?" I ask the pack doctor, glancing at Serge, who lies pale and still in the infirmary bed.

"Yes, he’ll be good as new in a few days," the doctor reassures me.

I exhale in relief. I barely know Serge, but his bravery in protecting me speaks volumes. After leaving him to rest, I find Victor in the training hall.

"Alright, Victor! Let's get to work," I say, my voice ringing with renewed focus.

Victor arches a brow. "You’re actually taking this seriously now?"

"I am. I’m an Alpha, but without the skills to back it up, that title means nothing."

I spend the morning pushing my limits. By afternoon, I’m in my father’s office, engaging in my favorite pastime: vexing him.

"I told you, no more killing!" I shout. "If you keep at it, I'm done cooperating!"

"You are insufferable, you little brat!" Warrick bellows.

"I’m not the brat! You’re just terrified of change, you stubborn old man!"

Warrick stares at his Beta, Archie, his face a mask of disbelief. "Did you hear that?"

I turn to Archie. "Punch him."

Archie blinks, stunned. "What?"

"Damn it, I thought it would work," I mutter.

"You horrible girl!" Warrick roars. "Were you actually commanding my Beta to hit me?"

"Hey, it was worth a shot! It’s all the motivation I need to keep going."

He sighs, looking utterly exhausted. "You are going to be the death of me."

I shrug, then grow cold. "Where is Colt?"

"I’m not telling you."

He’s kept him hidden for two days, ever since the chaos with Ezra. I lean in, a dangerous glint in my eye. "If you don't tell me, I’ll find him myself. And when I do, I’m going to—"

"YOU KNOW WHAT? Get out!" he interrupts, rubbing his temples. "You’re draining my life force!"

Later, in the sunroom, Poppy and Lotus fill me in on the pack’s history. They tell me about my mother—how she was Warrick’s one true love, and how her death turned his grief into a twisted, cruel obsession. It changes everything. He doesn't keep me because I’m a weapon; he keeps me because I’m the only piece of her he has left.

I realize I have leverage, but it’s a fragile, dangerous game.

After our chat, I hunt down Garret. I use my burgeoning Alpha power to pry the truth from him: Colt is being held in the lower cells. I don't hesitate. I storm through the house, fueled by adrenaline, and barge into my father’s office, ready to raise hell.

I freeze at the doorway. Colt stands by the desk—cuff-less, alive, and looking at me with pure adoration.

"No manners, as usual," Warrick says, though he doesn't look angry. "He’s no longer a prisoner. He’s your responsibility now. Protect her, Colt."

"Always," Colt promises, his voice unwavering.

"But listen closely," Warrick adds, his eyes hardening as he fixes his gaze on me. "Do not finish the mate bond. If I find out you’ve marked her, I will see to it that you never draw another breath."

"Understood," Colt says, his eyes glazing over as Warrick uses his Alpha command.

I gasp, fury boiling in my chest, but I hold my tongue. I take Colt’s hand, and we walk out, the tension between us thick enough to cut.

Once we’re in my room, I lock the door and collapse into his arms. The relief is overwhelming. The past few days have been a blur of terror, but now, in the safety of his embrace, I finally feel whole.

"I missed you," he whispers into my hair.

"Let’s stay here," I say, pulling him toward the bed. "For the rest of our lives."

He grins, a devilish spark in his eyes as he pulls me over him. "I think that’s an excellent idea."

He kisses me—deep, possessive, and hungry. Even without the official mark, the bond between us hums with a quiet, steady peace. We are where we are supposed to be, and for the first time since I arrived in this house of horrors, I’m not fighting for survival. I’m fighting for us.