A loud ringing blares in my ears. I lift a hand to my head and pull back my arm. Blood coats my fingers.

Light spins, shadows dancing on the walls. The electric lantern rocks on the floor beside me. Junie wraps her hands around it and carefully sets it back on the table.

I open my mouth, but words won’t come. A sick, withered little moan escapes me.

“You’re right. Talk is overrated. I’m more of an action person myself.” She steps over me, her boots squared on each side of my body. She grips a knife. “I got rid of Tabatha. I can get rid of you, too.”

Junie’s the traitor? The thought chugs through my throbbing head. That means she killed Terrence, too?

“Why? Why did you kill Terrence?”

“I’m sick of this place! Everything . . . everyone in it . . . keeps getting in the way of me and Caden being together. It’s too much pressure on Caden. If this place falls, then he can be free. We can slip away and be together.”

I stare up at her, one eye blinded by the blood running from the pulsing gash in my head, only one thought pumping through me. She’s crazy!

Rap! Rap!

The beat of knuckles on the door sends Junie’s head popping back up. Her wild eyes fasten hard to the left as Caden’s deep voice drifts into the room. “Junie, sorry to wake you . . . is Davy in there with you?”

I open my lips wide, but Junie pounces on me, slams a hand over my mouth. I scream against her moist palm, manage to get out some sound before she digs the knife into my throat. The sharp point pricks my flesh, and I feel the warm ribbon of blood trail down my skin.

“Junie?” The door starts swinging open. My eyes strain from the door to her face. She does the same. I feel her panic. Getting caught red-handed by Caden isn’t part of her plan.

“Don’t come in,” she commands. “I’m not dressed.”

The door halts its progress, hangs open a half foot.

“Sorry, Junie. Have you seen Davy?”

“No.” Her gaze flicks to me, darts over my face in warning as she pushes the blade in deeper. More blood runs, a pulsing chug, hot on my skin. “No, I haven’t.”

The door starts to close again, and with it my hope dries up. Once he’s gone, she’ll finish me. Stick my body somewhere else. He’ll never know she’s the one. Life in the compound will continue with her by his side. She’ll keep trying to infiltrate her way into his heart. Nausea rolls through me. Temporarily. Because resolve sweeps in then, hardening in my veins. My hands curl into fists at my sides. I won’t leave him to her.

She’s going to kill me anyway. Either now or later. At least I can make sure Caden knows who did it.

Opening my mouth, I bite down on the inside of her hand until the metallic taste of blood runs over my teeth. She cries out. Her hand flies off my mouth and I scream.

The door flings open and slams back against the wall. I catch a glimpse of Caden’s horrified expression as I jerk to the side, trying to roll away as she pushes down on the knife. I knew it would come. The blade rips my flesh. Blood gushes. That’s the cost. The price I’m willing to pay. I know that, but it doesn’t stop the pain and terror.

I see the satisfaction light her eyes a second before Caden tackles her.

Her weight flies off me and I slap a hand over my neck, trying to stall the blood, frantically trying to force the skin and tissue back together. A wasted effort. It pours steady as a stream between my fingers.

I watch them wrestle, my body growing cold. So cold as I lie on the floor. It doesn’t take long for Caden to gain the upper hand. He twists the knife from her, not even flinching at her cry of distress.

He slaps her when she lunges for it again, a madwoman, desperate to win. The slap spins her back to the ground. “Enough, Junie!” he shouts, wielding the knife.

Panting, she curls up on her side on the floor. “Caden,” she whimpers. “It’s for you. For us.”

Shaking his head, he scrambles over to me. “Davy, Davy, baby.” He carefully lifts me against his chest. “Let me see.” He peels back my fingers from my neck and his face goes white.

“Bad?” I rasp between my labored breaths, no longer cold. Just numb.

His eyes lock on mine, and the anguish there is all I need to know. “No, not bad. Nothing Doc can’t handle.” He places my hand back over my neck. “Push down for a sec.” He pulls his shirt off and carefully wraps it around my neck, removing my hands and tying off the fabric, assessing my face. “Not too tight?”

I murmur some form of assent. I can still breathe.

“Caden!” Junie is standing now, holding another knife. It’s her room. I guess she would know where to get one. She cocks her head, looking at him with wounded eyes. “I only wanted you to want me. I did it all. For you.”

He sweeps me into his arms and stands, holding me close, his body wired tight, ready to react. “Get out of the way, Junie.”

Her gaze travels over me in his arms and then darts back to his face. “Why? Why wouldn’t you let me love you? That’s all I ever wanted.”

“Let us pass. Now, Junie.”

The angle of her head sharpens, and her eyes cloud like she can’t quite believe he doesn’t understand . . . doesn’t care. With a small whimper, she lifts her chin and turns the blade so that it points to her chest. With a cry, she plunges it into her body, defiance bright in her gaze.

Caden turns away before her body even hits the floor. Bellowing for Phelps, he races me toward the infirmary.