No.4

Aline POV

For seven days, the bond between us was a dead wire. No anger, no pain, just a suffocating silence that mirrored the decay spreading through my veins.

I sat on the edge of my narrow bed, my fingers tracing the black, spiderweb-like veins that now crept up my forearms. The necrosis was faster now, feeding on the rejection I had spoken but he had refused to accept.

Here, Kaia whispered, slipping through the crack in the door like a shadow. She placed a small, heavy sack on the floor—dried meat, a canteen of water, and a thick wad of stashed cash she'd managed to scrape together from the training grounds.

Did anyone see you? I asked, my voice raspy.

No. They're all too busy preparing for the Ascension Gala tonight. Kaia crouched beside me, her eyes filled with a fierce, protective sorrow. "Kaden hasn't asked about you once, Aline. His mother... Rosalind told him you're on a hunger strike. She told him you're weeping in here, waiting for him to come apologize."

A dry, humorless laugh escaped my lips. "Let him believe that. His arrogance is my only shield."

While Kaden reveled in his delusion that I was a manipulative Omega playing games for attention, I had been meticulously planning my disappearance. I looked down at the small wicker basket at my feet. Fluffy, the stray kitten I'd rescued months ago, was curled up inside, sleeping soundly. She was the only living thing in this pack that didn't look at me with disdain.

I'm leaving tonight, Kaia, I said, the decision settling in my chest like a stone. "During the Gala. When everyone is distracted."

Kaia nodded, then reached into her tunic and pulled out a bundle of fabric. "Then you should leave with your head held high. Don't let them remember you as the broken girl in the grey rags."

She shook out the fabric. It was a dress. Not the dull, servant-like garb I was forced to wear, but a gown of deep, blood-red silk. It was the color of life, of fire—everything I was supposed to lack.

Two hours later, I stood before the cracked mirror. The woman staring back was a stranger. I had pinched my cheeks and used a heavy layer of rouge Kaia had smuggled in to hide the deathly pallor of my skin. The crimson silk hugged my emaciated frame, masking the bruises and the blackening veins, giving me an illusion of vitality. I had used the last of my strength to pin my hair up, exposing the bare, unmarked skin of my neck—a silent testament to the claim Kaden had never made.

I wasn't going to the Gala to celebrate him. I was going to say goodbye to the life that had almost killed me.

I picked up Fluffy's basket and hid it under the loose floorboard near the window, ready for my escape later. Then, I opened the door.

The Grand Hall was a sensory overload. The scent of roasted meats, expensive perfume, and the musk of hundreds of wolves hit me the moment I stepped onto the periphery of the ballroom.

The chatter died instantly.

It started near the entrance and spread like a wave until the entire hall fell into a stunned silence. Hundreds of eyes turned to me. I saw Jared Cross, Kaden's Beta, drop his wine glass. It shattered, the sound echoing like a gunshot. They expected a ghost; instead, they got a burning ember.

I kept my chin high, ignoring the trembling in my legs. I walked through the parting crowd, feeling their gazes like physical touches.

Luna Aline?

A deep, velvety voice broke the tension. I turned to see a man stepping out of the crowd. He was tall, with sandy blonde hair and eyes the color of warm amber. He didn't look at me with the usual Black Moon sneer. He looked... intrigued.

Alpha Sullivan. I recognized him from the guest list I had been forced to memorize years ago. Deric Sullivan of the Moonstone Creek Pack.

I was told you were indisposed, Deric said, bowing his head slightly—a gesture of respect that nearly made my knees buckle. "But it seems the rumors of your frailty were greatly exaggerated."

Rumors often are, I replied, my voice steady despite the pain clawing at my chest.

The orchestra began a slow waltz. Deric extended a hand. "May I? It would be a crime to let such a dress go to waste."

I hesitated. Dancing was for mates, for lovers. But I was leaving. Tonight, I was a free woman.

You may, I whispered.

I placed my hand in his. His skin was warm, his grip firm but gentle. As he swept me onto the dance floor, for the first time in three years, I didn't feel like a prisoner. I felt seen.

We spun near the center of the room, the red silk of my dress flaring out like a blooming rose. I even managed a small, genuine smile as Deric made a witty comment about the stuffy atmosphere.

Then, the air in the room changed.

It wasn't a sound. It was a pressure drop, sudden and violent, as if all the oxygen had been sucked out of the hall. The hair on my arms stood up. My wolf, weak and dying, suddenly whimpered in terror.

MINE!

The word didn't come from my ears. It slammed into my mind with the force of a physical blow, vibrating through the tattered remnants of the mate bond. It was a roar of pure, unadulterated possessiveness, dark and suffocating.

I froze, my heart hammering against my ribs. Slowly, terrified, I lifted my gaze to the second-floor balcony.

Kaden was there.

He wasn't looking at the crowd. He was looking at Deric's hand on my waist. His grey eyes were no longer stormy; they were an abyss of black rage. His hands gripped the iron railing so hard the metal groaned and twisted under his fingers.

The silence in the hall was absolute now, heavy with the promise of violence. He didn't need to speak again. The command rolling off him in waves was clear enough to bring every wolf in the room to their knees.

He was coming down.

No.5

Kaden POV

The glass in my hand turned to dust.

Shards of crystal bit into my palm, drawing blood that healed almost instantly, but the physical sting was nothing compared to the inferno raging in my chest.

Alpha… you need to see this.

Jared's voice in my head had been tentative, fearful. Now I knew why.

I stood on the iron balcony overlooking the Grand Hall, my knuckles white as I gripped the railing. Below me, the sea of guests had parted, creating a wide circle around a couple gliding across the obsidian floor.

It wasn't a ghost. It wasn't the broken, weeping wretch my mother had described to me just this morning.

It was a goddess bathed in blood.

Aline.

She was wearing red. Not just any red, but a deep, violent crimson that clung to her frame like a second skin. The silk slit high up her thigh, exposing legs I hadn't touched in years. Her hair was swept up, revealing the graceful curve of her neck—the neck I had refused to mark, now bared for another Alpha to stare at.

And he was staring.

Deric Sullivan held her as if she were made of spun glass. His hand rested on the small of her back—my mate's back. His scent, a cloying mix of sandalwood and ocean salt, was drifting up to the balcony, mingling with hers. It was a desecration.

MINE!

My wolf slammed against my ribcage, clawing to get out, to tear Sullivan's throat out with his teeth. The command had ripped from my throat before I could stop it, silencing the music, silencing the room.

But she didn't cower. She looked up.

Her eyes met mine. There was no love in them. No desperate plea for my affection. There was only a cold, hollow defiance.

Rosalind lied, I snarled under my breath. My mother had told me Aline was refusing to eat, rotting in her room, waiting for me to beg for forgiveness. But the woman down there wasn't rotting. She was burning bright enough to blind me.

I turned from the railing, my cape swirling around me like a storm cloud. "Jared, clear a path. Now."

I didn't wait for an answer. I marched toward the grand staircase, intent on dragging her out of that hall and locking her away until she remembered who she belonged to.

Kaden!

A soft hand caught my arm just as I reached the top of the stairs. Cori Mullins appeared, looking up at me with wide, doe-like eyes. She was dressed in silver, shimmering and delicate, the perfect contrast to the aggressive red stain on the dance floor.

Darling, please, she whispered, her voice dripping with concern. She stepped into my space, her fingers stroking the tension in my bicep. "Don't let her ruin your night. Look at her... parading herself around like that. She's just doing this for attention. She wants you to make a scene."

My jaw clenched. Cori's touch was soothing, a balm on a burn, but my eyes kept darting back to the dance floor below.

She is dancing with Sullivan, I growled, the words tasting like bile.

Because she knows it hurts you, Cori cooed, linking her arm through mine. "Don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you lose control. Show her she doesn't matter."

Her logic was sound, twisting into my brain and cooling the red haze just enough for me to think. If I dragged Aline out screaming, I would look like a tyrant. If I ignored her... I would look like a King.

Fine, I muttered. I placed my hand over Cori's on my arm, a silent claim. "Let's go."

We descended the staircase together. The crowd watched us, their gazes darting between me and the couple in the center of the room. Every step felt like walking on hot coals.

I reached the bottom floor, my eyes locking onto Aline again. She was spinning now, the red silk flaring out. Deric leaned in, whispering something in her ear.

And then, she did the unforgivable.

She laughed.

It wasn't a polite, courtly titter. It was a genuine smile that lit up her face, erasing the gaunt shadows of her cheeks. It was a smile I hadn't seen in three years. A smile she had never given me since the day I rejected our bond in all but words.

The sight of it felt like a silver dagger twisting in my gut.

She was happy. In his arms. In my house.

The air around me crackled with ozone. The floorboards beneath my boots creaked under the pressure of my aura.

Cori sensed my control slipping. She leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear, her voice a poisonous caress.

Look how she smiles for him, Kaden. A real smile, she murmured, her tone laced with a pity that made me want to kill something. "It's as if... as if his presence is healing the very soul you thought was broken."

The tether on my sanity snapped.

Healing her? No. He was stealing her. And I would burn this entire pack house to the ground before I let another male enjoy what was fated to be mine.

No.6

Kaden POV

It wasn't the polite, tight-lipped expression she had worn for the last three years of our miserable marriage. It was radiant, genuine, and blindingly bright. It transformed her face, erasing the gaunt hollows of her cheeks that my mother had so gleefully described.

My wolf roared in my head, a sound of pure, unadulterated fury. She smiles for him? After killing our pup?

The betrayal tasted like ash in my mouth. She wasn't grieving. She wasn't rotting in her room, begging the Moon Goddess for forgiveness. She was here, in the heart of my territory, flaunting her freedom in the arms of a rival Alpha.

I can't believe she's doing this to you, Cori whispered, her voice trembling as she clung to my arm. We reached the edge of the dance floor, the music swelling around us. "On your night, Kaden. After everything... after the pup..."

Her words were precision strikes, targeting the rawest wounds in my soul. The mention of the child—the heir she had supposedly discarded just a week ago—turned my vision red.

She has no shame, I growled, my voice low and dangerous.

She wants to hurt you, Cori murmured, pressing her soft body against my side, her scent of vanilla and artificial sweetness trying to mask the rage rolling off me. "Don't let her see that it's working. Dance with me. Show her she means nothing."

I didn't look at Cori, but I pulled her onto the obsidian floor. My hand splayed across her back, claiming her, but my gaze remained locked on Aline like a predator stalking prey.

The orchestra transitioned into the Dance of Allegiance, a traditional rhythm where pack members rotated partners to show unity. I watched as Aline moved from Deric to an Elder, and then to a visiting Beta. To each of them, she offered that same polite, graceful nod. That same soft curve of her lips.

Look how easily she gives her smiles away, Cori cooed, her head resting against my chest, her eyes following my line of sight. "It's as if... as if his presence is healing the very soul you thought was broken."

Healing her?

The thought snapped the last tether of my restraint. No. Deric Sullivan wasn't healing her. He was stealing what was mine. Even if I didn't want her, even if I rejected her, she was still my mate. Her smiles, her scent, her body—they were fated to me. Seeing her distribute them so freely to these lesser males was an insult to the Moon Goddess herself.

I was about to tear away from Cori and storm across the floor when the music shifted abruptly. The heavy drums of the ritual began.

A swap! The Master of Ceremonies' voice boomed, not just through the speakers, but echoing in the Mind-Link of every wolf in the room. As the Moon Goddess wills!

Two blinding spotlights cut through the dim ambiance of the hall.

The first beam of light crashed down on the far side of the room, illuminating Aline. She froze, her hand still resting on a visiting Elder's shoulder, her eyes widening like a deer caught in headlights.

The second beam hit me.

The silence in the Grand Hall was deafening. The air crackled with ozone and static electricity. Fate, it seemed, had a cruel sense of humor.

According to the ancient laws of the Gala, the chosen pairs must dance. To refuse was to insult the pack's traditions.

Cori stiffened in my arms, sensing the shift. Slowly, I untangled myself from her grip. My eyes met Aline's across the expanse of the floor. I saw the color drain from her face, saw the way her breath hitched.

Good. She should be afraid.

I adjusted my cuffs, the movement sharp and predatory. I didn't walk toward her; I prowled. The crowd scrambled to get out of my way, leaving a clear path between the Alpha and his estranged, traitorous mate.

I was going to dance with her. And I was going to make sure she remembered exactly who held the leash.