Seraphina POV:

Seraphina. Foyer. Now.

The voice exploded in my head. Dante. Even without the completed mating mark, his Alpha frequency was so strong it bypassed my mental shields.

My stomach twisted. Used to be butterflies. Now it was just bile.

I walked down the grand staircase.

Dante Moretti stood in the center of the foyer. He was a weapon in a bespoke Italian suit. Six foot four, lethal grace, eyes the color of a brewing storm.

Clinging to his arm was Isabella. She wore white, of course. The color of innocence she didn't possess.

"You summoned me, Alpha Moretti?" I asked, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't bow.

Dante's eyes narrowed. He sensed the shift in the air—the lack of fear.

He took a step forward. Sandalwood, rain, raw tobacco. The scent hit me like a physical blow. My biological imperative screamed at me to bare my neck.

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper.

"We are going to The Onyx," Dante said, voice cold. "Your sister wants to celebrate the engagement. You are coming."

"I have to pack for London."

"It wasn't a request," Dante snapped. The air shimmered with Alpha pressure. "Isabella wants her family there. You will not ruin her night with your sullen attitude."

Isabella smiled, a shark baring teeth. "Please, Sarah. It won't be the same without you."

She needed a prop. Someone to look small so she could look big.

"Fine," I said.

The Onyx was carved out of volcanic rock, thumping bass vibrating in my teeth.

We sat in VIP. Dante ordered champagne. I sat on the edge of the plush leather sofa, making myself invisible.

"To us," Dante said, raising his glass to Isabella. "To the future."

"To the future," Isabella cooed.

I watched the bubbles rise, counting the seconds until I could leave.

Then, the groan of stressed metal.

Wolves hear everything. The massive chandelier above us—twisted steel and silver plating—was giving way.

"Dante!" Isabella shrieked.

Gravity took over.

The chain snapped.

Dante moved. Alpha speed.

He lunged.

Not for me.

He threw his body over Isabella, rolling them both off the sofa and onto the floor, clear of the impact zone.

I didn't move. I just watched him choose.

The chandelier crashed down.

The world exploded in crystal and steel. The edge of the heavy silver frame clipped my shoulder and smashed into my legs.

"Ahhh!"

The scream tore from my throat. Silver.

For wolves, it's acid. The plating seared through my jeans, hissing as it touched skin. The smell of burning meat filled the booth.

The music cut. Silence.

"Isabella? Are you hurt?" Dante's frantic voice. He was scrambling up, checking her over.

"I... I'm scared, Dante," Isabella whimpered, burying her face in his chest. Not a scratch on her.

I lay trapped under the twisted metal, gasping, black spots dancing in my vision. "Help," I croaked. "Please."

Dante looked over. His eyes were cold. Inconvenienced.

"Stay here," he told Isabella softly.

He walked over. He didn't lift the metal immediately. He looked down at me with disdain.

"You're making a scene," he hissed.

That was the moment.

The golden thread tying our souls together didn't just fray. It snapped.

I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me.

Seraphina POV:

I woke up to the smell of antiseptic and stale blood.

Not a private suite. The supply closet in the Pack Infirmary.

My legs were bandaged, throbbing with the unique, rhythmic ache of silver burns. My healing factor was stalled; the metal residue was still fighting my cells.

The door opened. Dante.

He tossed a styrofoam container onto the bedside table.

"Eat."

I struggled to sit up, wincing. "I'm not hungry."

"Isabella was worried," Dante said flatly. "She couldn't finish her dinner because she was so upset about your... clumsiness. She sent this."

I opened the box. Leftover steak. Covered in a rich, dark sauce.

I sniffed. Beneath the garlic, the sharp, metallic tang of wolfsbane.

Not lethal. Just painful. Enough to cause cramps and vomiting. Isabella's favorite childhood prank.

"I can't eat this," I said. "It has wolfsbane in the sauce."

Dante rolled his eyes. "Don't be ridiculous. It's a five-star restaurant. Stop trying to make Isabella look bad."

"Smell it," I challenged.

He didn't. He couldn't be bothered.

"I said, eat," Dante growled.

Alpha Command.

A psychic anvil dropped on my brain. My muscles twitched, betraying me.

"No," I gritted out, sweat breaking on my forehead.

"Eat."

My hand moved like a puppet's. I picked up the fork. Stabbed the meat. Lifted it to my mouth while tears of humiliation streamed down my face.

I swallowed.

Liquid fire. I gagged, clutching my throat.

Dante watched with disgust. "Always the drama queen. You're fine."

He turned and walked out.

An hour later, after retching until I saw bile, I dragged myself to the infirmary garden.

Isabella was sitting by the koi pond.

"Did you enjoy the steak?" she asked, examining her nails.

"You're a monster," I rasped.

"And you are a waste of space," she countered lightly. She stood up. "Do you know why Dante hates you? Because you remind him of weakness. He looks at you and sees a wolfless cripple."

"I saved him," I whispered. "In the cabin."

Isabella's smile vanished. "He doesn't know that. And if you tell him, I'll have Daddy harvest a kidney next time. Without the sedative."

She stepped back towards the edge of the pond.

"You're pathetic, Sarah."

Then, she threw herself backward.

Splash.

"Help! She pushed me! Help!"

The psychic scream hit the Pack Link like a siren.

Dante! Help me! She's trying to kill me!

A wind rushed past.

Dante materialized. Red eyes. Fangs extended.

"I didn't..."

"Silence!"

He pulled a sputtering Isabella out.

"She... she said she wanted me dead," Isabella sobbed. "She said she wanted to be Luna."

Dante turned to me. Pure hatred.

"You tried to kill your future Luna."

"I didn't touch her!"

"I saw you standing over her," Dante snarled. "You are jealous. You are petty. And now, you are a traitor."

He took a step towards me. Death hung in the air.

"I should kill you right now," he whispered.

Part of me wished he would.

"But death is too easy," he decided. "Guards!"

Two warriors appeared.

"Take her to the Cooler. Let her think about her crimes in the dark."

Seraphina POV:

The Cooler. A silver-plated coffin.

The guards threw me in. I landed hard on my injured shoulder. The silver floor burned on contact, sucking the heat straight out of my marrow.

The door slammed. Darkness.

"Dante, please! Check the cameras!"

Silence.

I curled into a ball, trying to minimize contact with the floor. My wolf whimpered, a creature of light trapped in a tomb.

Hold on, I told her.

Time dissolved. Hours? Days?

Hallucinations started.

I saw the cabin. Dante, thrashing, veins black with poison.

“Who are you?” he had growled.

“I'm safe,” I had whispered.

I remembered wrapping my body around his, using my heat to stabilize him.

“Vanilla,” he had murmured. “Moonlight. When I see again, I will find you. You are mine.”

I laughed in the dark cell. A dry, cracking sound.

He kept his promise. He found me. And he froze me.

The cold numbed my extremities.

And then, something broke.

Not a bone. The bond.

It didn't snap with a bang. It just... withered. The constant pull towards him, the desperate need for his validation—it crystallized in the cold and shattered.

I didn't hate him. Hate requires energy. I felt nothing.

Hollow.

And in that hollow space, she woke up.

My White Wolf uncurled. Ancient. Cold. Starlit.

We survive, she whispered. Not for him. For us.

I stopped shivering. I sat up straight in the darkness.

I wasn't waiting for a savior anymore. I was waiting for an opening.