The Three Who Chose Me
Chapter 40: Freefall

Chapter 40: Freefall

Josie

I didn’t want to cry again.

I’d already lost count of the times I had. But the ache inside me wasn’t going away, no matter how many tears I wiped away, no matter how tightly I clutched my arms to my chest like they could somehow hold me together.

Marcy sat beside me on the edge of the bed, her fingers lightly rubbing slow, comforting circles into my back. The gentle pressure should have soothed me. Instead, it only reminded me of everything that wasn’t right.

"You’ve been through a lot, Josie," she said softly, her voice a cushion of concern. "The way they’re treating you now—it’s not about you. It’s their egos."

I turned my face toward her, blinking through the thin veil of tears. My voice came out raw. "That’s not true," I whispered. "It has to be me. What else could it be?"

Marcy let out a sigh that sounded like it had been building in her chest all day. "Josie, come on. You really think this is because of something you did? You were kidnapped. Hurt. You came back barely breathing. And now you’re blaming yourself for the way they’re acting? That’s not fair."

I clenched my jaw, my gaze dropping to the blanket in my lap. "They barely look at me anymore. They act like I’m some kind of... ghost. Thorne... he won’t even acknowledge me. It’s like I’m a stain they can’t scrub out."

"That’s not your fault," she said again, firmer this time. "It’s their problem, not yours."

But I shook my head, arms wrapping tighter around myself. "No. I should have been stronger. I should’ve fought harder. If I had... maybe they wouldn’t be acting like this. Maybe they wouldn’t be so ashamed of me."

Marcy stood abruptly, a frown drawing her brows together. "You’re being too hard on yourself, Josie. If you keep thinking like this—if you keep carrying all their weight—you’re going to lose yourself. And then, they really won’t have anything left to hold onto."

Her words sliced through me like a blade, but I couldn’t let them in. I didn’t know how to. My heart was too full of doubt. Of guilt. Of pain I didn’t know how to carry anymore.

So I nodded slowly, pretending to accept her words. I even forced my breathing to slow, eyes drifting shut. "I’ll try to sleep," I murmured.

Marcy hesitated for a moment, like she didn’t believe me. But eventually, she stepped away. I heard her soft footfalls retreat toward the door. The click as it closed behind her echoed too loudly in the quiet room.

And just like that, I was alone again.

But I couldn’t stay there. The air felt heavy. Suffocating.

I pushed the covers aside and slipped out of bed, my feet cool against the wooden floor. The room felt too big. Too quiet. I needed to move. I needed... something.

The hallway outside was empty.

I paused, glancing left and right.

The guards were gone again.

They hadn’t been stationed near me for days, and at first, I’d tried not to read into it. But now... now it felt like confirmation. Like no one cared enough to make sure I was safe.

Maybe Thorne really didn’t care.

Maybe none of them did.

The thought settled in my chest like ice, and I wrapped my arms around myself, forcing my legs to move.

I wandered toward the upper part of the estate, the place that overlooked the pack lands. It was the only place where I ever really felt like I could breathe lately. The view from there was vast and still. The rooftops of the pack houses, the distant tree line, the stone paths winding through the land like veins.

Evening was descending, blanketing the sky in hues of blue and grey. Most of the pack had turned in for the night, the grounds below empty and peaceful.

I should have felt calm.

I didn’t.

I turned my face to the wind, taking in a shaky breath.

And then, suddenly—hands.

Strong, cold fingers yanked me back with force. I stumbled with a gasp, my heart leaping into my throat.

"What the—!"

I whirled around.

Michelle.

Of course.

She stood there, arms crossed, eyes gleaming with something mean and delighted. "Fancy seeing you up here," she said with a tilt of her head.

I stiffened. "What is your problem?"

She laughed—a brittle, high sound that scraped across my nerves. "Oh, sweetheart. My problem? You are my problem."

I tried to push past her, but she stepped in front of me, shoving me again. "You don’t get to walk away until I say you can."

"Move," I snapped.

Michelle’s eyes gleamed. "No. You’ve had your time to pretend like you’re one of them. One of us. But let’s be real. You were never going to last here. You’re just a toy the Alphas got bored of."

My throat tightened. "You’re lying."

"Am I?" she said, circling me now like a predator. "Thorne won’t even look at you. Kiel still runs to me when you’re not around. And Varen? You really think that kiss meant anything?"

I flinched.

"They’re already talking," Michelle whispered, leaning close. "Calling you weak. Useless. Just a mooch who eats their food and cries all day."

"Stop it," I muttered, voice shaking.

"You don’t belong here. You never did," she hissed. "You’re not their Luna. You’re a placeholder. A burden. You were meant to be alone."

I stepped back. "Shut up."

"You should just die."

That broke something in me.

I lunged forward, rage and pain blinding me. We crashed into each other, hands grabbing, nails scratching. Her fingers tangled in my hair and I shoved at her shoulders. I was shaking. Sobbing. Everything was heat and panic and noise.

We struggled like that for what felt like forever—until she shoved me hard.

Too hard.

My foot slipped.

I screamed.

My hand shot out to grab her, but she wrenched away.

The edge of the platform disappeared beneath me.

I was falling.

Air tore past my ears. My body twisted mid-air. My heart rose into my throat and then—

Crack.

I hit something.

Pain exploded across my side. My head slammed against stone, and the world spun violently.

I couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

Then—

Nothing.

Darkness swallowed me whole.