I Drank Silverwolf’s Bane for His Sake, but He Thought It Was an Act Chapter 10
Sophia didn’t make it to the tenth day in the underground safe house.
On the seventh day, severe dehydration and the toxic fumes triggered acute respiratory failure.
She died behind that iron door.
She died as painfully as I had.
Her throat was torn open by her own nails. Every fingernail was split.
Ethan watched Sophia’s body go still on the screen without expression.
He stood and brushed the dust from his clothes.
“Bring her out,” he said. “Cut her up and feed her to the dogs.”
Noah sank to the floor, shaking.
“Mr. Walker – she was a person.”
Ethan glanced at him and took a flash drive from his pocket.
He tossed it over.
“On there are the transfer documents for all of my shares in the Walker family company. I’ve
already donated everything to charity.”
“Once you’ve handled her, take your severance and go.”
Ethan didn’t look at Noah again.
He walked straight into the underground safe house.
The air still smelled of blood and mildew.
He locked the iron door from the inside.
Then he walked to the corner where I had once curled up, and slowly sat down.
He drew a small bottle from his pocket.
It was an identical small white bottle.
Inside was a clear liquid.
Wolfsbane wasn’t available on any market, so he had paid a fortune on the black market for the
same high-concentration toxin.
Ethan leaned against the cold concrete wall and looked up at the surveillance camera.
A faint smile touched his face.
“Olivia. It’s so cold in here.”
“You must have been terrified.”
He twisted off the cap.
Without hesitation, he tipped his head back and forced the contents down.
Three minutes later, his face turned ash-white.
He clutched his throat, his Adam’s apple working violently.
A vicious burn spread from his esophagus down into his stomach.
He collapsed to the floor, legs thrashing.
He shoved his fingers into his mouth, trying to make himself vomit, until his hands were slick with
blood.
He coughed up a mouthful of black-red clots onto the wall.
Pain.
Too much pain.
It felt as though thousands of fire ants were tearing him apart from inside.
He rolled across the floor, one shoe kicking loose.
Veins bulged across his forehead. Cold sweat mixed with blood ran down his face.
He crawled to the locked iron door and dug his fingers into the cracks in the floor.
His nails split.
“Olivia… it hurts…”
Ethan crawled through his own blood, vomiting as he moved.
His vision blurred.
His lungs felt as if they had been packed with wet cement. He couldn’t pull in even a thread of air.
In the agony, he hallucinated.
He reached out into empty space and forced a smile uglier than crying.
“Olivia… have you come to take me with you?”
“I came to atone.”
I floated less than half a meter away and watched him twitch in the blood.
His hand passed through me and fell to the floor.
“In the next life… we…’
Ethan’s eyes bulged. His body stiffened once, then went limp.
His eyes stayed open until the very end.
The floor was covered in the bloody marks he had clawed into it.
Everything fell quiet.
A gust of wind slipped through the broken window of the underground safe house.
I looked at the body growing cold on the floor.
There was no pity.
No thrill of revenge.
Only emptiness.
I turned and walked toward the iron door.
This time, the force that had been binding me was gone.
My body began to fade, like mist in the morning.
The sunlight outside was almost too bright.
I walked into it.
This life had been too bitter.
In the next life – may we never meet again.
