Chapter Six

-Maya's POV-

Natalia's voice, muffled through the phone, jolted me out of a daze. "You really think he did it?" Her words felt like sandpaper against my raw nerves.

I let out a sigh, "I don't know," the confession scraping my throat, "But think of it, Natalia. If I were to bomb a place, why would I leave evidence that it was me on the bomb?" "Exactly!" Natalia's sharp tone crackled through the receiver. "My thoughts exactly. But still, he's the only one with a motive to stop the wedding. Maybe he realized what he lost."

I shook my head, the gesture echoing the hollowness inside me, "I looked into his eyes. The Alex that loved me... I didn't see that man anymore. There was anger, yes, but also a stranger, someone consumed by something I couldn't understand."

A beat of silence hung between us, thick with unspoken doubts. "So maybe it was his way of making good on that threat. Maybe this was his way of showing Everton that he means to really go to war with your father."

"And my father, of course, couldn't help but blame me," I muttered, bitterness lacing my voice.

"When are you going to stand up-?" Shebegan, her question hanging in the air.

"No, Natalia, please don't," I interrupted, my voice laced with a plea. "I did that once, and it ended with my heart in pieces. That fire..." I choked back a sob, the memory a barbed wire twisting in my gut. "It's gone."

"Amaya..." Her voice was laced with concern, reaching across the miles to wrap around me in a virtual hug.

I clutched the phone tighter, "It's gone," I repeated.

Silence followed as I stared at myself in the mirror. A stranger stared back, her eyes dull with pain, her lips drawn in a tight line of resignation.

Natalia's voice broke through the fog. "Amaya..." she began, her tone softer now, filled with understanding. "It's not about the fire, darling. It's about the embers. They're still there, glowing under the ashes. You just need to find the courage to fan them back into life."

"Maybe," was my only reply, a single word that hung heavy in the air between us. Natalia, bless her bluntness, knew me too well to let it linger. Instead, she sidestepped, her voice sharp but warm. "Has Ivan called you yet?"

knee-deep in damage control after the explosion. Daniel, of course, is already planning a redo of the

crackling with disapproval. I knew she

forget dinner with the pack higher-ups. Tonight, we're breaking free." "Natalia," I started, the protest forming on my lips. "It's past ten. I

are a grown woman, not a porcelain doll to be shelved at his will. I know it's easier to just comply, to shrink into the shadow he casts, but damn it, Maya, that's not you. I miss the girl who could stare down a rogue wolf and laugh in his face. I miss the firebrand who started a rebellion in college because a professor misquoted Nietzsche. I miss the you

words were a punch to the gut, jolting me out of my

wiping the tears that threatened to

clearing the fog of despair. "There's this new club that just opened," she chirped, her excitement infectious. "Big Shot, it's called, and rumor has it they have a dance floor that hypnotizes and cocktails that sing opera. I've been dying to check it out, and

Nathan and

the broken vows, the piece of shit that broke your heart. Plus, I have this new outfit that practically screams 'watch me dance,' and you wouldn't want to deny me the audience,

warrior goddess on fire, and meet me by the back gate in ten minutes. We're painting the town ruby red, Maya Stone, and for once, the only fireworks

the day. The Natalia Rant,

slipping out on a breath of newfound defiance. "Just one favor,

she promised, her voice already halfway out the

dancing. Lots

laughter echoing down the hallway. "Tonight, my friend, we dance like there's

fear and resignation. The girl who punched Nathan in the face and defied her father wasn't dead, she was simply hibernating. And tonight,

slap against my burning cheeks. My heart hammered in my chest, a wild hummingbird trapped in a cage of nerves and excitement. There

you long enough, Rapunzel," she teased, her voice a familiar melody in the symphony

pulling the collar of my leather jacket tighter against the wind. "Just... needed a

sharp as diamonds, seemed to pierce through my flimsy excuse. "The alpha throwing another tantrum?" she asked, her tone

bitter on my

soft and understanding. “I get it,” she said, "It's been a hell of a day. But tonight,

bruised spirit. I let out a shaky laugh, feeling the tension seep out of my shoulders. "Ready when

a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Now, about

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