Chapter 107

AUBREY'S POV I felt myself being dragged backward, Jax's grip on my arm bruising in its intensity. My mind still reeled from the sight of Natalie's body, the horrifying familiarity of her death position making it impossible to think clearly. The image burned into my brain—her blonde hair splayed around her head like a broken halo, her neck bent at that impossible angle, her eyes wide with the terror she must have felt in her final moments. Just like the photos of my mother I had found hidden in my father's desk when I was thirteen. The same twisted limbs. The same expression of horror. The same message: this was what happened to those who defied Jax. My feet stumbled over the uneven concrete as Jax pulled me through the corridors, back toward the cell I'd so briefly escaped. The damp, moldy air felt even more oppressive now, pressing against my skin like a physical weight. The guard's jacket I'd stolen was several sizes too large, the sleeves hanging past my fingertips, but it was the