Diagnosed With Cancer, I Got My True Mate

I blink, groggy. "It's my grandpa's memorial in a few days. Heading back home to pay respects."

She nods, not offering to come with. I get it. That small town's her personal hell-the place her mom took her own life, where Natalie tried to follow, where she clawed her way out. She'll probably never set foot there again.

Which means, once we're unbound, we're done for good.

Her eyes flick to the scrape on my arm, her brows knitting. "How'd that happen?"

I pause, then tell the truth. "When the fire broke out, I ran back to the second floor. Got knocked down in the chaos."

Her gaze darkens. "Why'd you go back up?"

"Thought you were in trouble."

She stares at me, silent for a long time before saying, "You're still the same as you were back then."

She means the river, when I dove in after her. I give a bitter smile. "Not really."

Back then, she had no one. Now, she's got Brandon. I'm just extra weight.

Over the next few days, Natalie starts moving her stuff to the new villa. I keep my bags separate, saying I'll sort through them before bringing them over. She doesn't question it, just keeps hauling her things out. Soon, the condo's empty, and I'm sitting in the living room, my breathing echoing in the hollow space. It feels like that rundown shack we used to share, just the two of us against the world.

I get up to toss some old junk, but when I step into the hallway, someone grabs me from behind, clamping a hand over my mouth. Everything goes black.

When I come to, I'm tied to a chair in a rotting warehouse, a rag stuffed in my mouth. A wolf looms over me, his face eerily like Natalie's but twisted with a cold, predatory glint. "So you're the one who saved that bastard pup Natalie?" he sneers. "Trying to help her steal my inheritance, huh?"

Aaron Brooks-her half-brother.

I glare, unable to speak. He rips the rag out, and I gasp, my voice hoarse. "Natalie's not a thing. She's got the same blood as you. You've got no right to call her that."

"She's never wanted your family's money!" I snap, my voice shaking but steady. "Your dad screwed over her mom. She wasn't a mistress, and Natalie's not a bastard!"

Aaron's face twists, and he lands a fist across my jaw. My vision swims, blood pooling in my mouth.

"Big talk," he growls, grabbing my chin and forcing my head up. "Call Natalie."

He wants to use me to hurt her. I clench my jaw, refusing.

He laughs coldly, snatches my phone, and dials her number. No answer.

He tries again. Still nothing.

"All those years you two leaned on each other, and this is it?" he taunts. "She doesn't give a damn if you live or die, and you're still defending her?"

My chest burns, but I rasp, "Natalie's not who you think she is."

That sets him off. He nods to a goon behind him, who slams a fist into my gut. I double over, cold sweat drenching me.

"Listen up," Aaron says, leaning close and patting my cheek. "Every time Natalie doesn't pick up, I take a tooth. Let's see how much she lets you suffer."

The first tooth comes out, and I black out from the pain, a choked groan escaping my throat. She doesn't answer.

Second tooth. Third.

Blood fills my mouth, my vision fading, but the phone stays silent.

By the last tooth, I'm barely conscious. Then, finally, the call connects.