Someone shook me awake in the darkness. I blinked against the bright overhead light, disoriented. Galen, no, Darius, stood over me, blood streaking his face and chest. Tension lined his mouth. My ribs ached less after the rest, but fear spiked instantly.
“I’m sorry to wake you,” he said urgently, “but we’ve run out of time. Bowen’s sending the pack. We have to get you out.”
He moved with swift efficiency, easing sweatpants up my legs and pulling a oversized sweatshirt over my head. His hands were gentle despite the haste. My necklace— the only piece of my parents I had left—dangled from his fingers. He pressed it into my palm and closed my hand around it.
“You won’t make me think differently about you,” he said, voice rough. “Here. I put a price on it and your safety when I shouldn’t ha
