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Nigel crafted everything carefully, as if he planned this for a while. And I’ve played into it, almost making it too easy for him to tear us apart.

“Get off me, Naomi,” Jade finally pushes Naomi, who lets her through, and she immediately runs to Thomas’s side. Naomi glances at me, her eyes narrowed, waiting to see what I will do.

Thomas gets up and lunges at Ezra, holding his bloody hand, which is curled in his chest. He can barely stand straight. Thomas looks directly at Micah, his eyes pained and pleading. “I didn’t eat that food. I was set up.” Thomas glares at Ezra’s beady little eyes and flexes his jaw. “You didn’t have to cut my fucking palm.”

Ezra grimaces. “You’ll be fine. It was just a warning scratch. And it was Micah’s idea.” He laughs darkly.

That empty threat Micah made. The punishment for stealing food, forever marking Thomas as a thief. As if we are living in nothing more than the Dark Ages.

Thomas grunts and lunges toward Ezra. Clumsy, without his usual athletic grace, and Ezra merely steps out of the way. Nigel just snickers, his greasy hair falling right over his eyes under his dark hood. Ezra is nothing but a puppet—an extremely strong, hot-headed puppet.

I cringe, seeing how hard the bigger guy falls. Ezra turns and kicks him in the ribs, and Thomas cries out in pain. And that’s when Micah bolts, taking Ezra down, pressing his arm down hard on Ezra’s neck. I’ve never seen such strength, every muscle rippling, every fiber of his body holding Ezra’s head down to where Ezra’s eyes might pop out of their sockets, and Ezra drops his knife. Micah presses his bone weapon into Ezra’s temple.

The knife now sits only inches from Micah’s grasp, and I’m pretty sure Ezra stops breathing. A vein pops dangerously out of his forehead.

Micah lifts his gaze to Thomas. “Run.”

Without hesitation, Thomas flees, the guys parting to let him stumble through. He grabs what he can from his shelter, and Jade follows, and the two of them disappear into the forest. Ollie, Nathan, and Nigel surround Micah, each holding a spear, ready to pounce on him. My heart hammers in my chest. Taking down Micah will not be as easy as Thomas, and they know it.

“Get off him, Micah,” Nigel says dismissively, waving his hand as if this is boring to him.

“Maison,” I plead. “Please, do something.”

“Micah will be fine,” he whispers. “I’m more worried about everyone else.”

Ezra reaches for the knife, but Micah doubles down on Ezra’s neck—to the point Ezra starts to turn purple now. Completely helpless under Micah’s pure strength. Micah only loosens his hold when Nathan and Ollie crowd him. He jumps up and grabs the knife, and the guys fall back a couple of steps. The last time I saw Micah in this stance, he took down a buck with his bare hands.

Ezra rises and faces Micah, sweat dripping down his forehead, his beady eyes gleaming as Nigel tosses him a spear.

All these spears Micah had made… only to be used against him.

Nigel steps forward with his hood hiding his face, his bow tie perfectly in place. “Just go, Micah. You can’t take all of us. We will hurt you if you try to sabotage this group any more than you already have.”

The overlord speaks.

Micah twists his bone weapon. “I can fucking try,” he fires back, completely unfazed by the threat in front of him. James sits neutral with Naomi and Serena, who all watch in horror. Even Naomi, I’m assuming, didn’t expect it to get to this level.

Nigel was behind this whole thing; I know it by the way he’s watching it all unfold exactly how he planned it. Who knows what kind of bullshit he’s been feeding Ezra, knowing the deep hatred Ezra has for Micah under the surface. Using it to his own advantage to gain control of everything.

Nigel clicks his tongue as the three other boys step up behind him, clearly choosing a side. “We can all avoid more unpleasantness if you just leave, Micah. Go die on the other side of the island. We’ve all had enough of your brooding bullshit.”

My hand squeezes into a fist as Micah backs away. His eyes flash to his brother, then to the pleading look I’m giving him.

“This is bullshit,” Micah says. “You’re all on your fucking own now.” He slips away into the dark forest as more light illuminates the sky. He doesn’t spare me a glance, not a single glance.

Ezra yells toward him, “If you come back here, we will cut your hand off, too.”

Jesus.

The group stares at me, and the silence that follows is nothing short of terrifying. I realize it’s because I’m shaking uncontrollably, so much so, that Maison finally loosens his hold on me. Tears well up in my eyes, and I wiggle out of Maison’s hold with full intent on following Micah.

I can’t be here… not without Micah.

Maison quickly realizes what I’m planning and grabs my hand. “London, stay with me, baby. Don’t follow him. He did this to himself. You and I shouldn’t have to pay for his mistakes.”

I bite my lip, “Maison, you don’t understand…”

His words are pained as he spits out his next words, “No, you don’t understand, because you don’t know us. You don’t know him like I do. He thinks he’s above everyone and can act however he wants and get away with hit. Ezra’s right to be pissed at him. He’s the one who fucked up, not me. Let him sulk in the forest.”