I shuddered, wrapping my arms around myself. I should’ve expected it but hearing him say it so easily—casting me aside like I was nothing—felt like a dagger to my chest.
“Ofelia,” Zach called again, sharper this time. “We need to plan our next move. I know you’re shaken up, but you can’t lose your head now.”
I turned to him, my voice barely above a whisper. “I have to go back.”
Zach’s expression hardened. “Don’t be reckless. You saw what happened back there. If you go back now, they’ll kill you.”
“I can’t just leave him,” I snapped. “Mavin—he saw me. He knows I didn’t abandon him. I have to reach him before Avery poisons him even more.”
Zach sighed, rubbing a hand down his face. “And how do you plan to do that? March up to the estate and ask nicely?”
I ignored him, my eyes scanning the room. There had to be something—some way to contact Mavin without exposing myself. Then I spotted it.
An old, dusty drawer sat half-open in the corner. My hands trembled as I pulled it open, my heart pounding when I saw what lay inside. A burner phone.
I snatched it up, fingers shaking as I checked for a signal. Weak, but still working. I hesitated for only a moment before typing a short message to the only person I knew could still be trusted inside Gavin’s ranks.
"Is he safe?”
Minutes passed. I held my breath, my pulse hammering as the screen stayed dark. Then, finally, a reply came.
But it wasn’t from my contact.
My heart nearly stopped as I read the sender’s name.
Mavin.
I inhaled sharply, my fingers tightening around the phone as I opened the message.
[Mommy, I need you. They're lying to me. Please come back.]
A choked sob caught in my throat. He knew. He knew. Despite everything, despite Avery’s poison and Gavin’s coldness, Mavin still trusted me.
Zach looked over my shoulder, his jaw tightening. “This is dangerous, Ofelia. If he’s messaging you, someone could be watching him.”
“I don’t care,” I whispered. “He needs me.”
Inside the pack’s estate, Avery watched Mavin with an expression of forced patience. He stood stiffly in the center of his room, fists clenched, glaring up at her.
“She’s not a traitor,” he said, his voice thick with defiance.
Avery sighed, kneeling to meet his eye level. “Oh, sweetheart. I know this is hard to understand, but your mother—”
“She’s not my mother,” Mavin snapped. “You keep saying that, but she is. She raised me. She was there when no one else was.”