Fated To Three, And I Broke Them All novel Chapter 367

Chapter 367: 367-I Didn’t Die

Gigi:

The dagger slipped from my hand and skidded beneath the bed.

We both looked toward it.

Neither of us moved for it. Going after the weapon would have been too much of a risk.

Instead, Rocky tackled me and climbed on top of me, wrapping both hands around my throat.

"Well, then I know how to silence you, you fucking stupid bitch!" he yelled.

I thrashed beneath him.

I hadn’t thought this plan through.

I never expected him to use his bare hands to fucking strangle me.

I’d thought I’d be able to run out of the house, make it far enough to find the Alpha King’s car somewhere along the way, and have them come to save me from him.

Instead, Rocky was on top of me, and I was losing consciousness far too quickly.

I didn’t even know how far away Ragnar’s car was.

Being a werewolf, I managed to struggle for a while, but soon everything around me began to darken.

Bright spots flashed across my vision like stars.

My hands slowly went limp.

I couldn’t fight him anymore.

"I’m going to fucking kill you," he hissed.

His fingers finally loosened around my throat, but I was already fading.

Through my blurred, darkening vision, I watched him bend down and retrieve the dagger from beneath the bed.

Then he climbed back over me and chuckled.

"You really were the least interesting. Trust me." He looked down at me. "But what can I do? A guy has to fulfill his desires."

He leaned closer and raised the dagger.

A tear slipped from the corner of my eye as I shut my eyes.

At least I’d tried.

But I guessed this time I’d messed with the wrong person.

"I’m pretty sure the Alpha King and his brothers will be happy to finally get rid of your victim ass."

He lifted the dagger to strike.

And then everything went black.

I didn’t know what had happened.

Maybe I’d never wake up.

Maybe I’d died.

But if I was dead, why could I still think?

And why the heck was I waking up again?

As I slowly came to, the first thing I noticed was the steady beeping around me.

Was I in hell?

No.

That didn’t make sense.

I should’ve gone to heaven.

I’d been a good person.

I mean, I’d never really hurt anyone. Not physically, anyway.

Sure, I’d said things. Cruel things, sometimes. But people only got that version of me when they deserved it. When they hurt me first.

That didn’t make me a bad person.

It made me someone who defended herself.

So obviously I should’ve been in heaven.

Right?

Then why did my entire body hurt so badly?

Why did my neck feel like someone had crushed it?

When I finally forced my eyes open, I found myself staring at a bright white room. A machine beside the bed was connected to me, its rhythmic beeping filling the silence.

For a second, I just stared.

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