Page 121 of Psycho Pack

I murdered my best friend.

Even though he was trying to trap me. Even though he betrayed everything between us. Even though he was going to expose me to... to who? I still don't know who was watching through that lens. Still don't know who ordered him to record our moment of weakness.

Was it his father?

He always hated me.

My hands shake as I pick up a delicate glass vial from my old workbench. The amber liquid inside catches the light, reminding me of all the hours I spent here, studying healing arts I wasn't supposed to touch. Playing at being something I could never be.

Now look at me.

A healer after all.

Just another betrayal of everything I was meant to be.

"This is where you grew up?"

I whirl around, the vial slipping from my fingers. Ivy catches it with impossible grace, her ocean eyes studying the contents before setting it carefully back on the bench. She looks ethereal in her white Surhiiran robe, like she belongs here more than I ever did.

"You shouldn't be here," I say roughly, but I can't look away from her.

"Neither should you, from the way you're shaking."

My laugh is bitter. "I shouldn't beanywhere."

She moves closer, and I fight the urge to back away. To maintain the careful distance I've spent years perfecting. But I'm so tired of running.

So tired of hiding.

"Tell me," she says softly.

"You can't understand," I say roughly, but my usual clinical detachment is crumbling. "What I did... who I was..."

"Try me."

Her voice is soft, but there's steel beneath it.

Something in me breaks. Maybe it's the gentle understanding in her gaze. Maybe it's the weight of secrets I've carried for so long.

Or maybe I'm just tired of running.

"His name was Adiir." The words scrape my throat like broken glass. "We grew up together. He was... everything to me."

Ivy settles onto the cushioned window seat, her white robe pooling around her like liquid moonlight. She doesn't speak, just watches me with those eyes that see too much. The silence stretches between us like a living thing.

"In Surhiira, alphas don't..." I run a hand through my hair, agitated. "It's not just frowned upon. It's forbidden. Especially among nobles. Especially for a prince." A bitter laugh escapes me. "But I loved him anyway. Had loved him since we were children, though I never dared say it."

The words tumble out now, like water breaking through a dam. "He was the Commander of the Royal Guard's son. We grew up together. He understood me in a way no one else did. When I would sneak into the archives to study medical texts, he'd keep watch. When I railed against the rigid traditions that were suffocating me, he'd listen."

I pace the length of my old chambers, unable to stay still. "I knew he didn't feel the same way. Couldn't. But that night in the gardens..." My hands clench into fists. "He kissed me. When hetouched me like I'd dreamed of for so long, I forgot everything else. Every rule, every tradition, every consequence."

The memory of his lips on mine, his hands in my hair, sends a fresh wave of nausea through me. "But it was all a lie. He had a recording device hidden in his brooch. He was going to expose me. Destroy everything." My voice drops to a whisper. "So I destroyed him first."

Ivy's sharp intake of breath makes me flinch. Here it comes. The disgust. The rejection. But when I dare to look at her, there's only understanding in her gaze.

"I murdered him," I force myself to continue. "Crushed his throat with my bare hands. The hands I'd spent years training to heal, not harm. Then I ran. Couldn't face my mother's disappointment. My father's rage. So I became someone else. Became Plague."

The confession hangs in the air between us, heavy with the weight of a decade's worth of guilt. I can't look at Ivy anymore, can't bear to see the moment understanding turns to revulsion. Instead, I stare out at the gleaming white city spread below my old chambers.