Chapter 26
Trista's POV
I didn't actually want to die; I wanted to hurt him.
The second the blunt side of the knife hit my neck, my wolf's ears snapped upright.
My palm was slick with sweat. The knife handle started to slip.
I stared at him, waiting for one single response—"Don't go."
Instead, I got his chilling ultimatum.
Pain. Despair.
My mind suddenly conjured the image of Dad, wearing his reading glasses, still changing figures on blueprints late at night; Mom, looking exhausted during her healing sessions at the healing center.
My wolf pulled its claws back. It whispered, "Don't hurt them."
My throat felt constricted. The knife tip lost its force—it wasn't surrender. It was the realization that this knife couldn't hurt him. It would only slice through my own clan, my own fam
