The sudden silence was oppressive, broken only by an occasional twitch from the former rogue. Hannah rushed to the tree, scanning Jenni's body for wounds. The only visible mark, a long laceration running across her shoulder, staining her shirt crimson with blood. She let out an initial sigh of relief, for a werewolf it was little more than a scratch, inconvenient, but in no way serious. But the girl remained slumped against the tree, her breathing shallow, limbs trembling.

Come on Jenni, snap out of it...

Hannah prodded the wound, searching inexpertly for the first signs of healing, but the blood showed no sign of clotting, an endless trickle of red making its way down Jenni's side to soak into the pines needles on the forest floor. Tearing at the cloth, revealed a dark blue-black hue to the skin surrounding the wound.

“Jenni?” she questioned, trying to conceal her rising panic. “What can I do?”

Jenni let out a soft exhalation of breath. “Nothing. I'm dying, leave me be.”

"Don't be ridiculous, let me help you," Hannah implored trying to stem the flow of blood. "Damn it, why isn't this healing?” She scanned the trees, trying to get her bearings. “I can go and get help. I'll find one of the medics and..."

Jenni's eyes never left Hannah's face, her expression clearly expressing her lack of confidence in Hannah's plan.

“Yes, you're right,” Hannah muttered. “Stupid idea.” There has to be something... “Call out over the link,” she tried again. “Get them to come to you.”

“I – I can't,” Jenni admitted, wincing as she changed position. “We’re too far away.”

“Can you shift?” Maybe in wolf form Felicity could help her human, and they could get close enough to...

“No.”

“Then... then...” Hannah looked around desperately. Spotting the bag lying abandoned nearby, she reached for the strap, dragging it over to them and emptying its contents on the forest floor. “Tell me what to do. There's bandages here, gauze, alcohol and... is this Silver Sulfadiazine?” she asked holding up a small pouch.

Jenni’s smile was closer to a grimace. “Well remembered. But...” she sighed. “Just stop. No bandages, no cauterising. I know how wounds work, remem- remember? " She retched, the effort causing wrenching spasms through her body. Pulling herself upright, and catching her breath, she gestured towards the fallen rogue. "Poison.”

Hannah stared at the blue-black tips of the dead rogues fingers, he must have coated his claws. Shit.

“Quite a good one, actually," Jenni croaked with a hint of professional admiration. “There's Wolfbane involved, and possibly... monkshood? Effective,” she gasped “and quick.”

“Don't be ridiculous. You can't die.” Don’t you dare give up on me. Hannah sat back on her heels, unsure what to do next. “There must be something – ”

“There isn't, and believe me, I can, and I am. Water,” she croaked, scrabbling for a small flask that had spilled from the bag alongside its contents. She grasped it eagerly and took several gulps, only to immediately double up again and vomit into the ferns. “Defiantly monkshood in the mix,” she muttered, gazing longingly at the flask again.

“Can't your wolf...?”

Jenni let out a weak laugh, shaking her head. “The right combination of poison can burn through our systems far quicker than our wolves can counteract it. Ironic, really. The humans spend all their time obsessing over silver, when all they really need is a handful of deadly plants.” She sniffed, her nose wrinkling. The faint smell of smoke had reached them, infusing the chilled air with the scent of burning pine needles.

“We need to move,” Hannah said nervously. “I think that fire's shifted course.”

“No,” Jenni refused, her pupils unnaturally large, sabotaging Hannah's attempts to move her by sliding further into the ferns, a stubborn expression on her face.

“Jenni...” Hannah sighed with some asperity. She was certain there was something in that bag that could save her, but it appeared Jenni had no intention of letting herself be saved. She was choosing to die, but why Hannah couldn't fathom. Frustrated she gave up, sitting back with a frown, trying to make sense of it all.

“You left the letters?” she asked suddenly.

Jenni sighed, closed her eyes and nodded wearily.

"But, why? Why send me death threats only to save me now? It doesn't make any sense. If you wanted me dead so badly, you could have let him kill me.”

Jenni’s eyes opened again, and she shook her head in abject denial. "Not dead, never dead. Just... gone." She grimaced again, a look of intense pain on her face, one hand clutched against her wound preventing any further interference. "I wanted to scare you,” she whispered when the spasm passed. “Make you feel unwanted, unsafe. I suppose you should know that I – I also spread the rumours amongst the socialites that you were working with the rogues, trying to – to trick the Alpha into mating you. I knew they'd whisper behind your back.” She fell silent a moment, her lips pressing together. “I hoped you'd want to leave,” she confessed finally. “I hoped you'd... run away or – or...” Or maybe the Alpha would decide you were too great a threat and send you away.”

That hurt. Hannah thought back across all the nights she lain awake fearing for her safety, to all the whispered remarks at the picnic that had led to such an explosive confrontation, and felt a profound sense of betrayal. "Why?" she whispered.

Jenni smiled wistfully. "For Him, of course."

Hannah frowned, confused. "I don't – "

“When my father brought me back to his pack, I was sure the new Alpha would turn me away,” Jenni continued as though Hannah had never spoken, her glazed eyes staring off into the distance. “I didn't eat, didn't talk... I think father worried he’d done the wrong thing bringing me home. But the Alpha was kind to me. He said he wanted me." Her smile grew. "No one had ever wanted me before."

Blake, of course. Hannah felt her heart constrict as the final piece of the puzzle fell into place. “You love him.”

"For eight years I felt the pull a mate should feel. He felt it too. I know he did. He always made time for me, helped me study, sought me out during celebrations, always took the time to talk to me when he visited father." She winced, paled even more, and began to shiver.

"Oh Jenni..." Hannah murmured, an overwhelming sadness enveloping her. He never even saw you.

"No!" Jenni half-shouted, too weak to push her away again. Tiny strands of her hair stuck to the side of her face, slick with the sweat of a sudden fever. "Don't you pity me. I know we weren't true mates, I’m not as delusional as I seem... but I could have been chosen by him." A soft tear slid down her cheek. "He would have seen me. He would have chosen me.” She offered Hannah a half-hearted glare. “Before you came."

“What about Victoria?”

Jenni snorted. “He would have seen through her eventually.”

And yet, you didn't feel the need to send her death threats, Hannah thought bitterly. Was I really more of a threat? “What killed him?” she asked dully, nodding towards the corpse.

Jenni rolled her eyes towards the syringe half-buried in the ferns. “Concentrated Arum Maculatum,” she murmured. “Also known as the Lords and ladies flower. Always keep some with me.”

“In a first aid kit?” Hannah murmured, examining an identical cylinder nearby, it's needle glinting in first rays of sunlight.