"Does the blood on the altar not look red enough for you, Jace? Why won't you look at me?" Chloe’s voice was a fragile thread of hope, vibrating in the chilled air of the sacred grove. She stood before the ancestral stones, her palms upturned, waiting for the Alpha’s mark that would finally bind her soul to the man she had adored since they were children playing in the mud of the training grounds. The Pairing Moon hung heavy and crimson above them, casting a bruised light over the hundreds of pack members gathered to witness the union of their future Luna.

Jace didn't look at her. His silhouette was hard, carved from the shadows of the surrounding pines, his Alpha aura thick and suffocating. "The blood is fine, Chloe," he said, his voice devoid of the warmth that had sustained her through years of grueling Omega labor. "But the lineage it represents is a lie. A stain on this pack’s future that I can no longer ignore."

"A lie?" Chloe stepped forward, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. "I’ve served this pack. I’ve bled for you. What are you talking about?"

Jace finally turned, but he didn't reach for her. Instead, his hand shot out to the side, gripping the wrist of the woman standing just behind Chloe. Bella, Chloe’s own sister, stepped into the light of the moon, her golden hair shimmering like a cruel crown. She didn't look guilty; she looked triumphant, her lips curled into a smirk that sliced deeper than any silver blade.

"The Goddess doesn't make mistakes, Chloe, but people do," Jace declared, his voice booming so the entire pack could hear. He raised Bella’s hand high, their fingers interlacing in a way that made Chloe feel like she was watching her own execution. "I have spent weeks consulting the Elders and the Seers. We ran the lineage tests again—the real ones, not the ones your father forged to hide your shame."

Chloe’s breath hitched. "Jace, stop this. Whatever Bella told you, it’s a lie. You know me."

"I thought I did," Jace hissed, stepping closer until his face was inches from hers. The scent of pine and rain that usually comforted her now smelled like rot. "I thought I was looking at a Luna. Instead, I was looking at a hollow shell. The results came back this morning, verified by the High Priest. You aren't just an Omega, Chloe. You are a sterile defect. A 'Lunar Void.' You can never carry an heir. You can never strengthen the pack link. You are a dead end in our bloodline."

A gasp rippled through the crowd. The "Lunar Void" was a curse, a death sentence for any wolf in a pack that valued strength and propagation above all else. Chloe felt the world tilting. The faces of people she had called friends—people she had healed, cooked for, and protected—morphed into masks of disgust.

"That’s impossible," Chloe whispered, her eyes stinging. "I’m your mate. The bond—"

"The bond was a delusion of a weak girl," Bella interrupted, her voice sweet and poisonous. She leaned her head against Jace’s shoulder, a gesture of possession that made Chloe want to scream. "Jace needs a True Luna of Strength. Someone who can actually provide for the pack’s future. Someone like me. The tests showed that my lineage is the one the Goddess intended to lead. You were just a placeholder, Chloe. A mistake that’s finally being corrected."

Jace looked down at Bella with a gaze so full of heat and pride it made Chloe’s stomach turn. It was the look she had waited ten years to receive. Then, he turned that gaze back to Chloe, and it turned to ice.

"You cheated," Chloe said, her voice growing stronger as the shock began to burn away into a raw, bleeding fury. "You orchestrated this. You faked those tests because you wanted her power, not my loyalty. Jace, look at the moon! You are breaking a sacred vow for a lie!"

"I am saving my pack from a parasite!" Jace roared, the sound of his Alpha command forcing Chloe to her knees. The sheer weight of his power slammed into her, pinning her to the cold, blood-stained earth of the altar. "You expected to sit on a throne beside me while you withered away, sucking the resources of a pack you can't contribute to? You are nothing but a waste of skin and fur."

Chloe looked up through the tears, her knees scraping against the jagged rocks. "I loved you. More than she ever will. She only wants the title, Jace. Can’t you see that?"

"What I see," Jace said, stepping over her as if she were a piece of refuse in his path, "is a woman who lied to her Alpha. A woman who tried to trick her way into a position of power she didn't earn. You aren't fit to be a Luna. You aren't even fit to be an Omega."

He turned back to the pack, his arms spread wide. "Members of the Silver Moon! Tonight, we celebrate a true pairing! Bella shall be your Luna! As for the fraud who stands before you..." He paused, the silence in the grove so heavy it felt like a physical weight.

Chloe tried to stand, her muscles screaming under the pressure of his aura. "Jace, please. Don't do this. Don't cast me out."

Jace turned his head slightly, looking at her out of the corner of his eye. There was no mercy there, only the cold calculation of a man who had already moved on. He grabbed the ritual dagger from the altar—the one meant to seal their bond—and sliced a line through the air between them. It was a symbolic severing, a gesture that signaled the end of any claim she had to the pack.

"The test proved you are a void, Chloe," he said, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly calm whisper that carried in the wind. "And I have no room for voids in my life. You have five minutes to gather whatever rags you claim to own and disappear."

"Where am I supposed to go?" Chloe cried, the desperation finally breaking through. "The woods are full of rogues! It's the Pairing Moon—the predators are out in force! You're sending me to my death!"

"That sounds like an Omega problem," Bella laughed, clinging to Jace’s arm. "Maybe a rogue will find a use for you that an Alpha couldn't. Though I doubt it. Who wants a wolf that can't even howl?"

The pack began to jeer. Someone threw a stone that clipped Chloe’s shoulder, drawing a thin line of blood. The people who had smiled at her that morning were now baring their teeth. The social hierarchy of the pack was absolute, and Chloe had just fallen from the highest height to the lowest depths. She looked at her father, standing among the Elders, but he looked away, refusing to meet the eyes of the daughter who had brought "shame" to his house.

Chloe felt a coldness spreading from her chest to her limbs. It wasn't the cold of the night, but the cold of a soul being ripped apart. The bond she had felt—that golden thread that had always pointed toward Jace—snapped. The agony was like a hot iron being driven into her brain, making her vision go white. She collapsed, clutching her chest, gasping for air that felt like it was made of glass.

Jace didn't even flinch at her pain. He watched her struggle with a bored expression, as if he were watching an insect twitching on its back. He took a step toward her, his heavy boots crunching on the gravel until he was standing directly over her broken form. He reached down, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up into his obsidian eyes.

"Listen to me very carefully, Chloe," he said, his voice a low growl that vibrated through her skull. "You are no longer a daughter of this pack. You are no longer a sister. You are nothing."

"You'll regret this," Chloe choked out, the words tasting like copper. "The Goddess... she sees what you've done. She knows the truth."

Jace laughed, a harsh, jagged sound. "The Goddess favors the strong. And you? You are the weakest thing I’ve ever had the misfortune of knowing. I should have ended this years ago."

He leaned in closer, his grip on her chin tightening until she heard her jaw creak. The intensity of his hatred was a physical force, a dark energy that seemed to swallow the light of the moon. He wanted her to be afraid. He wanted her to crawl.

"I, Alpha Jace of the Silver Moon Pack," he began, the formal words of rejection beginning to hum with magical power, "hereby strip you of your rank, your name, and your protection. I sever the tie that was never meant to be. I cast you out into the dark where you belong."

Chloe felt the last vestiges of her pack connection vanish. The mental map of her home, the familiar hum of the pack mind, the warmth of the communal fire—it all went dark. She was alone. Truly, terrifyingly alone.

Jace let go of her chin, pushing her backward so she fell into the dirt. He stood tall, his hand finding Bella’s waist, pulling her flush against him in a display of dominance that made the pack howl in approval. The celebration was beginning, and she was the sacrifice that had paid for it.

"Get out of my sight before the pack hunts you for sport," Jace commanded, his eyes glowing with a cruel, predatory light. "If you are still on my lands by sunrise, I will personally see to it that your head is mounted on these very stones. Run, little Omega. Run until your heart stops."

Chloe scrambled to her feet, her legs shaking so violently she nearly fell again. She looked at the faces of the people she loved, and saw only monsters. She looked at her sister, who was wearing the smile of a murderer. Finally, she looked at the dark, looming silhouette of the Forbidden Forest—the Shadow Woods—where no wolf dared to tread. It was a place of myths and death, a place where the Lycan King was said to tear the souls from those who trespassed.

With a final, broken sob, Chloe turned and bolted. She ran past the jeering warriors, past the silent elders, and into the suffocating darkness of the trees. Behind her, she could hear the drums starting for the wedding feast. She could hear Jace’s laughter. But as she crossed the border into the Forbidden Forest, the sounds of the pack began to fade, replaced by a heavy, ancient silence that seemed to be waiting for her.

"Don't look back, Chloe! Just keep moving!" The voice in Chloe’s head wasn't her own; it was the frantic, dying instinct of a wolf whose pack bond had just been incinerated. Her lungs burned, each breath tasting of the copper blood that still coated the sacrificial altar behind her. The sounds of the Silver Moon Pack—the jeering, the drums, and Jace’s cruel, booming laughter—were being swallowed by the oppressive weight of the tree line.

She slammed into the perimeter of the Shadow Woods, her boots skidding on slick moss. The air changed instantly. It grew cold, heavy, and smelled of ancient earth and something metallic, like a whetted blade. This was the Forbidden Forest. No wolf returned from here. It was the domain of Valerius, the Lycan King, a creature of nightmare who ruled the dark places of the world.

"Is someone there?" Chloe gasped, spinning around as a branch snapped with the force of a bone breaking. She clutched her bruised ribs, her vision blurring from the pain Jace had inflicted. "Please... if there’s anyone left with a soul, help me."

Silence was her only answer, a silence so deep it felt like it was pressing against her eardrums. She stumbled deeper into the thicket, her hands trembling as she pushed through thorn-choked bushes that should have shredded her skin.

"I can't stop," she whispered to the darkness. "I won't let them catch me. I won't let them see me die like a dog."

Chloe’s POV: She felt the shift in the atmosphere first. The forest didn't feel like a graveyard anymore; it felt like a living thing that was holding its breath. Every step she took into the forbidden territory felt like a trespass against a god, yet the terror of the pack hunters behind her was greater than the fear of the mythic king ahead. She pushed through a wall of dense ivy, expecting the vines to tangle around her throat.

"Move," she hissed at a stubborn root that blocked her path. "Just move!"

To her utter shock, the root didn't just move—it recoiled. The thick, wooden limb slithered back into the dirt as if it had been burned. Chloe froze, her heart hammering against her chest. She looked at the towering oaks ahead, their branches intertwined like a ceiling of skeletons. As she stepped forward, the heavy boughs slowly groaned, uncurling and lifting upward to create a clear, illuminated path of silver moonlight just for her.

"What is this?" Chloe murmured, her voice trembling. "Why are you doing this?"

She reached out a tentative hand toward the trunk of a massive, black-barked willow. The moment her fingertips brushed the bark, a pulse of warmth radiated through her palm. The tree seemed to shiver with a low, resonant hum that vibrated in her very marrow. It wasn't an attack. It was a greeting.

"You're... you're letting me through," she realized, a sob of disbelief catching in her throat. "After everything... the forest is letting me in."

Behind her, the distant howl of a Silver Moon warrior echoed through the trees. They were at the edge. They were hesitating, fearing the curse of the Lycan King, but she knew Jace wouldn't let her go that easily. He wanted her blood to satisfy his ego.

"Chloe! There's nowhere to run!" a voice shouted from the distance—it was Jax, one of Jace’s enforcers. "The King will eat your heart before we even reach you! Save us the trouble and come back!"

"Never!" Chloe screamed back, her voice cracking. "I’d rather be a feast for a King than a slave to a coward!"

She turned and ran faster, her feet finding purchase on ground that seemed to flatten itself out to meet her stride. The forest was actively assisting her. Ferns flattened themselves into a carpet, and glowing mushrooms burst from the rot to light her way through the deepest shadows. She felt a strange, dormant heat rising from the base of her spine, a power she didn't recognize. It wasn't the weak, flickering light of an Omega. It was something ancient. Something that hummed in sync with the heartbeat of the woods.

"I’m not a void," she whispered, tears streaming down her face as she ducked under a low-hanging branch that lifted itself out of her way. "Jace was wrong. They were all wrong."

Chloe’s POV: The deeper she went, the more the air seemed to shimmer with gold and silver dust. The jagged rocks and treacherous cliffs of the Shadow Woods became a sanctuary. She felt a pull, a magnetic tug toward the very center of the forest where the obsidian spires of the Lycan Palace were said to pierce the clouds.

"Just a little further," she urged herself, her breath coming in ragged gasps. "Just find a place to hide. Find a place where they can't find me."

But the fatigue was winning. The trauma of the rejection and the physical toll of the flight were draining the last of her reserves. Her vision flickered. The silver path began to dance before her eyes. She tripped over a small stone, her legs giving out as she tumbled forward into a clearing dominated by a monolithic stone archway.

"No, no, no," she moaned, trying to push herself up from the damp leaves. "Get up, Chloe. Get up!"

Her hands slipped on the slick ground. She waited for the impact of the earth, for the cold bite of the mud. Instead, the air around her suddenly thickened, turning heavy with the scent of ozone and ancient spice. A pair of massive, gloved hands caught her mid-fall, bracing her with a strength that felt like solid iron.

"Steady, little wolf," a voice growled. It wasn't a human voice. It was a low, guttural vibration that seemed to shake the very trees around them.

Chloe gasped, her eyes snapping open as she was pulled upright. She found herself pressed against a chest so broad it blocked out the sky. She looked up, and up, and up. Standing before her was a man who stood nearly seven feet tall, clad in armor made of dragon-scale and obsidian. His hair was long and black as a raven's wing, but it was his eyes that stopped her heart. They weren't the yellow or blue of a common wolf. They were obsidian pools filled with glowing, swirling embers.

"Who are you?" she breathed, her voice failing her. "Are you... are you the King?"

The man didn't answer immediately. He leaned down, his face inches from hers. He didn't snarl. He didn't reach for the massive claymore strapped to his back. Instead, he inhaled deeply, his nostrils flaring as he caught her scent—the scent of her blood, her tears, and the hidden spark of the Moon Goddess.

"You smell of betrayal," he rumbled, his grip on her arms tightening just enough to be possessive, but not enough to hurt. "And you smell of a destiny you don't even understand yet."

"I... I was rejected," Chloe stammered, her knees buckling again. "I have nowhere else to go. Please, kill me quickly if you must."

A dark, dangerous smile played across the man’s lips. It wasn't a smile of cruelty, but one of terrifying satisfaction. He reached out a gloved finger and traced the line of the rejection mark on her neck—the ugly, jagged scar Jace had left behind.

"Kill you?" the King asked, his voice dropping to a whisper that sent a shiver of pure electricity through her body. "Why would I destroy the only thing in this world that belongs to me?"

Chloe’s heart stopped. "What do you mean?"

The Lycan King, Valerius, leaned in closer, his glowing eyes locking onto hers with a predatory intensity that made the rest of the world vanish. The forest around them went silent, every tree and every blade of grass bowing toward him in a silent show of fealty.

"The Silver Moon fools thought they were discarding an Omega," Valerius growled, his breath hot against her skin. "They didn't realize they were delivering a goddess to my doorstep. I have sat on this throne, watching the stars turn and the empires fall, waiting for the one whose soul matches the dark."

"I don't understand," Chloe whispered, her head spinning. "I'm just... I'm nothing."

"You are everything," he countered, his voice rising with a sudden, violent passion. He swept her off her feet, cradling her against his armored chest as if she weighed no more than a feather. "I have waited five hundred years for you, Chloe. I have burned worlds in my mind while I waited for your scent to hit the wind."

He turned toward the obsidian palace, his strides long and powerful. The hunters at the edge of the woods were forgotten, a mere nuisance in the face of a king who had finally found his queen.

"Let them come for you," Valerius hissed, his eyes flashing with a promise of absolute carnage. "I will stack their bodies into a mountain just to give you a better view of your new kingdom."

Chloe closed her eyes, her head resting against the cold metal of his spaulder. For the first time in her life, she felt safe. But as the King’s mark on his own hand began to glow in response to her presence, a terrifying realization dawned on her. This wasn't just a rescue.

"Five hundred years?" she asked, her voice a faint whimper. "What happens now?"

Valerius looked down at her, his expression unreadable and ancient. "Now," he said, "we show them why the darkness should never be provoked."

As they crossed the threshold of the palace, the heavy obsidian doors slammed shut with a boom that echoed across the entire valley, signaling the end of Chloe’s life as a wolf—and the beginning of her reign as a monster. But as she looked at Valerius, she saw a flicker of something in his eyes that wasn't just desire. It was a hunger that had been starving for centuries, and she was the only thing that could satisfy it.

"You're mine now," he whispered, "and I don't share what is mine."

"Don't touch me! Please, just... just let me sit down," Chloe gasped, her voice cracking as the massive obsidian doors of the Lycan King’s foyer groaned shut behind them. The sound was final, a heavy thud that seemed to sever her connection to the living world. She swayed on her feet, the adrenaline that had fueled her flight through the Shadow Woods evaporating and leaving only a hollow, aching exhaustion.

Valerius did not step away. He stood like a monolith of dark stone, his presence filling the vaulted hall until the air felt thick enough to swallow. "You are safe here, Chloe. But you will not sit. Not until you understand exactly what you are," he rumbled. His voice wasn't unkind, but it carried the weight of five centuries of absolute rule. He reached out, his large, gloved hand hovering near her shoulder without making contact.

Chloe’s POV: She looked up at the towering man, her eyes stinging with fresh tears. The grandeur of the obsidian castle—the shimmering black floors that looked like frozen water, the torches that burned with a strange, violet flame—was terrifying. But it was the way Valerius looked at her that truly unnerved her. He didn't look at her with the pity she’d received as an Omega or the disgust Jace had shown at the altar. He looked at her like a man seeing the sun for the first time after an eternity in a cave.

"I know what I am," Chloe whispered, her hands clutching the tattered remains of her ceremonial dress. "I’m a void. Jace showed everyone. The tests... they said I’m sterile. I’m a broken Omega who can’t give a pack anything. That’s why he chose Bella. That’s why he threw me away."

"Jace is a blind whelp playing with matches in a world of lightning," Valerius spat, his obsidian eyes flashing with a sudden, violent heat. He took a step closer, forcing Chloe to tilt her head back. "He looked for a vessel to carry a common wolf, and when he found your soul too vast for his meager bloodline, he called it empty. You are not a void, Chloe. You are a Lunar Vessel."

"A what?" Chloe asked, her brow furrowing. "I don't understand those words. The Moon Goddess made me weak. She made me the lowest rank."

"She made you a temple," Valerius corrected, his voice dropping to a low, reverent growl. He began to pace around her, his heavy boots clicking against the polished floor. "A wolf's womb carries a litter. A Lunar Vessel carries the essence of the Goddess herself. You were never meant to be the mate of a mere Alpha. Your body was designed to house the power of the King of Kings. You were 'sterile' to Jace because his spark was too weak to even ignite the pilot light of your soul."

Chloe shook her head, her mind reeling. "No, that’s just a story. A myth. I’ve felt weak my whole life. I’ve been pushed down, bitten, and mocked. If I had that kind of power, wouldn't I have felt it?"

Valerius stopped directly in front of her. "It was dormant, waiting for the one key that could unlock it. The Goddess did not make you an Omega; she made you a Queen in waiting. And I have waited longer than any man should be asked to wait."

"So what happens now?" Chloe asked, her voice trembling. "Do you keep me here as a guest? Do I... do I serve you?"

"You do not serve me," Valerius said, and for a fleeting second, his expression softened into something almost tender. "You rule with me. But first, the bond Jace tried to sever must be replaced. The vacuum in your soul is dangerous, Chloe. It will pull in the darkness of this forest and consume you if it isn't filled by a true claim."

"Wait," Chloe said, taking a step back as a new kind of fear spiked in her chest. "You mean a mark? You want to mark me? Now? I just... I just lost everything. I can't think straight. I need time."

"Time is a luxury the dying do not have," Valerius stated. He wasn't asking. The air in the room began to vibrate, the violet torches flaring bright as his Lycan aura expanded. "The Silver Moon hunters are still at my borders. If they find you without a King’s protection, they will kill you. I will not lose you again because of your hesitation."

"Valerius, please, let's talk about this!" Chloe cried, her heart racing. "I don't even know you!"

"You have known me in your dreams since you were a child," he countered, his hand suddenly moving with the speed of a striking viper.

Chloe’s POV: She didn't have time to scream. Valerius’s hand didn't grab her throat; it cupped the back of her head, pulling her firmly toward him. His other hand gripped her waist, anchoring her against his armored chest. He smelled of old parchment, cold iron, and a wild, intoxicating musk that made her wolf—the one she thought was dead—suddenly howl with a ferocity she had never known.

"This will hurt," Valerius whispered against her ear, "but it will be the last time anyone ever makes you feel small."

Before she could protest again, his head dropped. He didn't bite with the hesitation of a lover; he claimed with the authority of a god. His fangs pierced the sensitive skin of her neck, right over the jagged rejection scar Jace had left.

Chloe’s world exploded.

It wasn't just the pain of the bite, which was sharp and searing. It was the flood of power that followed. It felt as if a dam had burst inside her chest, pouring liquid silver into her veins. The "void" Jace had spoken of was suddenly filled with a roaring, incandescent fire. She felt her vision turn white, her feet leaving the floor as Valerius held her. The power didn't stay contained within them; it surged outward in a visible shockwave of white and violet light.

The windows of the obsidian hall shattered inward, the glass turning to dust before it hit the floor. The very foundations of the castle groaned, and outside, the ancient trees of the Shadow Woods bowed so low their branches snapped.

Chloe’s POV: She could feel it spreading. The mark wasn't just a brand on her skin; it was a tether that lashed her soul to his. She saw visions of five centuries of loneliness—Valerius sitting on a throne of bone, watching the moon, waiting for a girl who hadn't been born yet. She felt his hunger, his possessiveness, and his absolute, unshakeable loyalty.

"Mine," a voice echoed in her mind—not her voice, and not quite Valerius's, but the voice of the bond itself.

The surge of energy reached its peak and then snapped, a psychic boom that rippled across the landscape. It traveled through the trees, over the rivers, and slammed into the borders of the Silver Moon territory like a physical blow. Every wolf in the hemisphere felt it—a sudden, crushing pressure that forced them to their knees, their instincts screaming that a new, superior power had been born.

Valerius finally pulled back, his fangs retracting, though a smear of Chloe’s blood remained on his lip. He looked at her, his obsidian eyes now glowing with an unbearable brilliance. Chloe gasped for air, her skin shimmering with a faint, silvery light that refused to fade. The mark on her neck was no longer a scar; it was a beautiful, intricate sigil of a moon entwined with a crown, pulsing with a steady, rhythmic glow.

"There," Valerius breathed, his voice ragged. "It is done. You are a Vessel no longer empty."

Chloe leaned against him, her body humming with a terrifying amount of energy. "I... I can feel everyone," she whispered, her eyes wide. "I can feel the forest. I can feel... him."

Jace’s POV: Back at the Silver Moon Pack’s Great Hall, the celebration was in full swing. Jace sat on his throne, a cup of wine in one hand and Bella’s thigh in the other. He was laughing at a joke made by one of his enforcers, feeling the high of his new "strength" and the relief of being rid of the "Omega dead weight."

"To the new Luna!" a warrior shouted, raising his glass.

Jace opened his mouth to respond, but the words never came.

Suddenly, a localized earthquake seemed to hit the hall. The floorboards buckled. But the physical shaking was nothing compared to the agony that ripped through Jace’s chest. It felt as if a giant, invisible hand had reached into his ribcage and grabbed his very soul, twisting it with the intent to break it.

"Agh!" Jace shrieked, dropping his wine. The glass shattered, staining his boots red.

He fell forward off his throne, his hands clutching at his heart. It felt like his chest was being hollowed out. The bond he had so arrogantly severed earlier that night was being forcibly overwritten by something infinitely more powerful.

"Jace! What's happening?" Bella screamed, reaching for him, but she was thrown back by a literal spark of static electricity that jumped from his skin.

Jace couldn't answer. He was gasping, his lungs refusing to take in air. He felt a presence in his mind—a cold, terrifyingly vast presence that dwarfed his own Alpha status until he felt like an ant under a boot. He saw a flash of silver light, and within that light, he saw Chloe. But it wasn't the Chloe he knew. She was radiant, terrifying, and she was standing in the arms of a monster made of shadows and obsidian.

"No," Jace wheezed, his eyes bulging as the pain intensified. "No, she was... she was nothing!"

The agony reached a crescendo, a soul-deep rip that made him howl in a way that sounded like a wounded animal rather than a proud Alpha. He felt his own "Alpha" aura—the very thing he prized most—flicker and dim, crushed under the weight of a superior claim.

Around the room, his warriors were also collapsing, clutching their heads as the psychic shockwave of the King’s Mark battered their senses. The joy of the evening had turned into a scene from a nightmare.

Jace curled into a fetal position on the floor, his crown rolling away into the shadows. He could feel it. Somewhere in the distance, his "discarded" mate was being claimed by a King. And even through the pain, he knew one thing with terrifying certainty: his rejection hadn't destroyed Chloe. It had unchained her.

"What have I done?" Jace whispered into the dirt