Emma's POV:
I walk slowly toward Lucian.
Each step feels like walking toward my own execution.
The crowd is silent now. Watching. Waiting.
All those faces. All those people I grew up with.
Not one of them tries to stop me.
'They're letting me go. Actually letting me sacrifice myself.'
The thought should make me angry.
But I'm too tired. Too empty.
Just—hollow.
The child's sobs echo behind me. His parents' grateful tears.
'At least I'm saving someone. At least one innocent life will survive this.'
The thought brings strange comfort. Cold. Bitter. But real.
'If I'm going to die—or worse—at least it means something. At least it's my choice.'
Not Lucian's. Not my pack's. Not my family's.
Mine.
That matters.
Twenty feet from Lucian now. Fifteen.
His smile widens. Triumphant.
