Arminda POV:

The silence in the car ride home was thick enough to choke on. Coleton had recovered quickly thanks to my antidote, but his pride was bruised. He refused to look at me.

I spent the rest of the day in the servants' quarters, nursing my silver burns and planning my route out of the territory. I had one day left.

The next morning, however, Coleton summoned me again.

"Get dressed," he said, throwing a garment bag at me. "We are going to an art gallery."

"I am not your doll, Coleton," I said, standing my ground. "I resigned."

"You are still on pack territory," he countered. "Which means you obey the Alpha. Charly is showcasing her paintings. She wants the pack leadership there. You will come to carry her supplies."

I wanted to refuse, but the Command in his voice made my wolf dip her head in submission. I hated it. I hated how my biology betrayed me.

The gallery was a modern glass building in the city center. It was packed with humans and wolves alike. Charly was the center of attention, holding a glass of wine and laughing loudly.

"And this is my assistant," Charly said, waving a hand at me as I struggled with a box of brochures. "She's a bit slow, but she tries."

A few people chuckled. I kept my head down, focusing on the exit sign.

Suddenly, a piercing shriek cut through the air.

WEE-WOO-WEE-WOO!

The fire alarm.

Smoke began to billow from the vents. Real, thick, black smoke. Panic erupted instantly. The crowd surged toward the doors, screaming and shoving.

"Move! Move!"

I was shoved hard from behind. I fell, my ankle twisting with a sickening crunch. I hit the floor, and a heavy sculpture stand toppled over, pinning my leg.

"Help!" I cried out, coughing as the acrid smoke filled my lungs.

Through the haze, I saw him.

Coleton was standing ten feet away. He had seen me fall. Our eyes locked.

For a moment, time stopped.

My wolf howled to his. Mate! Save Mate!

I saw Coleton take a step toward me. His instinct was driving him. He reached out a hand.

"Coleton!" Charly screamed from the other side. "I can't breathe! The smoke!"

Charly was standing near the exit, completely uninjured, just holding a handkerchief to her nose.

Coleton froze. He looked at me, trapped under the heavy stand, unable to move. Then he looked at Charly.

The conflict on his face lasted only a second.

He turned his back on me.

He ran to Charly, scooped her up in his arms bridal-style, and charged out the door.

"No..." I whispered.

The smoke swallowed me. I coughed until my throat bled. The heat was rising. I curled into a ball, waiting for the end. So this is it, I thought. Rejected and left to burn.

I didn't die.

I woke up in the pack hospital again. My throat felt like sandpaper.

"Easy," a voice said.

It was Beta Jaydan. He was sitting by my bed, looking grim.

"Who...?" I rasped.

"The firefighters found you," Jaydan said quietly. "They brought you out."

"Where is he?" I asked, though I knew the answer.

"He is at the mansion," Jaydan said, looking at the floor. "He is helping Charly wash the soot out of her hair."

I laughed. It was a dry, cracking sound. "Of course he is."

Jaydan looked up, his eyes full of sorrow. "Arminda, I am a Beta. I follow orders. But what he is doing... it is against the will of the Moon Goddess. You are his Mate. We all smell it, even if he pretends he doesn't."

I looked out the window. The full moon was rising again. It was beautiful and cruel.

"He left me to die, Jaydan," I said softly. "He chose a lie over the truth."

"He is blind," Jaydan said.

"No," I said, sitting up. The pain in my ankle flared, but I ignored it. "He isn't blind. He is unworthy."

I closed my eyes and reached deep inside myself. I found the golden thread that connected my soul to Coleton's-the Mate Bond. It was frayed, blackened by his rejection and cruelty.

"I'm going to do it," I whispered.

"Do what?" Jaydan asked, alarmed.

"I'm going to sever the link."

The door banged open.

Coleton strode in. He smelled of expensive shampoo and Charly's perfume. He looked annoyed, not relieved that I was alive.

"You're awake," he said. "Good. Charly is distressed about the fire. She needs a sedative."

I looked at him, and for the first time in six months, I felt nothing. No love. No longing. Just cold, hard clarity.

Arminda POV:

"Did you hear me?" Coleton demanded, stepping closer to the bed. His Alpha presence filled the small room, usually enough to make me cower.

Today, I just stared at his neck.

"I am not a nurse anymore, Coleton," I said, my voice raspy but steady. I lifted my arm, showing him the fresh bandages from the fire. "And my ankle is broken. I cannot walk, let alone mix sedatives for your girlfriend."

Coleton frowned, looking at my injuries as if noticing them for the first time. A flicker of guilt crossed his face-quickly suppressed.

"I... I intend to compensate you for the accident," he muttered. "I will pay your hospital bills."

"How generous," I said dryly. "Considering you left me in a burning building."

"I had to ensure the future Luna was safe!" he snapped defensively. "It was a tactical decision."

"Tactical," I repeated. "Is that what you call it?"

Before he could answer, a high-pitched howl echoed from outside the hospital. It was a fake, melodramatic sound.

"That's Charly," Coleton said, instantly distracted. "She must be having a panic attack."

He turned on his heel and left without another word.

I leaned back against the pillows. I closed my eyes and focused on that golden thread again. I visualized a pair of shears. Snip.

I didn't sever it completely-that required a ritual-but I blocked it. I visualized a heavy, lead door slamming shut between our souls. The constant background noise of his emotions-his arrogance, his lust for Charly, his confusion-suddenly cut off.

Silence. Blessed silence.

Two days later, my ankle was bound in a walking cast. Coleton appeared again.

"Get up," he said. "We are going to the Charity Auction tonight."

"I can barely walk," I said.

"You don't need to walk much. You just need to sit there. People are talking. They say I mistreat my staff. If you are seen with us, it will quell the rumors."

So, I was a prop.

I wore a simple black dress I had salvaged. We took the limo. Charly sat in the front passenger seat next to the driver, laughing, while Coleton sat in the back. He made me sit on the jump seat, facing him, like a child.

The auction was held in a grand ballroom in the city. Humans and wolves mingled, sipping champagne.

When we entered, Coleton linked arms with Charly. I trailed behind, limping.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," Coleton announced to a group of visiting Alphas. "May I present Charly Mack. My Chosen Mate."

The term "Chosen Mate" implies a rejection of the Moon Goddess's will. It means the wolf is choosing their partner based on politics or preference, ignoring destiny. It is an insult to tradition.

The other Alphas exchanged awkward glances. They could smell me. They could smell the faint, lingering bond between Coleton and me. They knew he was parading a mistress while his True Mate limped behind him.

"Congratulations," one Alpha said stiffly.

The auction began. Coleton bought Charly everything she pointed at. A diamond necklace. A vintage fur coat. A trip to the Maldives.

Then, a painting came up. It was an oil painting of a wolf howling at a massive, silver moon. The artist had captured the spiritual longing of our kind perfectly.

I gasped. It was beautiful. For a second, I forgot my misery. I leaned forward, entranced.

Coleton noticed.

"Five thousand," I whispered, reading the starting bid. It was more money than I had ever seen.

"Ten thousand!" Coleton shouted, raising his paddle.

My heart leaped. Did he see me? Was he buying it for me?

"Sold to Alpha Barron!" the auctioneer banged his gavel.

Coleton turned to me with a smug smile. He picked up the receipt and handed it... to Charly.

"For the guest room," Coleton said. "It matches the curtains."

Charly glanced at the painting with boredom. "It's a bit gloomy, isn't it? But thanks, babe."

I felt the blood drain from my face.

Coleton turned back to me, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. He tossed it into my lap.

"Here," he said. "Don't say I never gave you anything."

I opened it. It was a pair of cubic zirconia earrings. Cheap costume jewelry. The kind you buy at a gas station.

"Put them on," he ordered. "Smile for the cameras."

I looked at the earrings, then at him. I closed the box and set it gently on the table.

"No," I said.

"Excuse me?" His eyes darkened.

"I don't want your charity, Coleton. And I certainly don't want your pity."

I stood up, grabbing my cane.

"Sit down!" he commanded.

"No." I walked away. For the first time, his Alpha Command didn't freeze me. My wall was holding. I walked out of the ballroom, leaving him staring at my back, confused why his power was slipping.

Arminda POV:

The mansion was quiet when we returned. I went straight to the stairs, intending to grab my bag and leave forever. I didn't care about the forty-eight hours anymore. I would sleep in the woods if I had to.

"Hey, mutt."

Charly was waiting for me at the top of the landing.

She blocked my path. The hallway was narrow. She reeked of hostility-her pheromones were spiking, a sour, acrid smell meant to intimidate.

"You embarrassed him tonight," Charly hissed. "Walking out like that."

"Move, Charly," I said tiredly. "I'm leaving."

"Not before I teach you a lesson."

She stepped closer. "You think you're special because you healed him? You're nothing. You're a battery. A disposable battery that we drained dry."

She put her hands on my chest and shoved.

I grabbed the railing to steady myself. "Don't touch me."

Charly's eyes flashed. She suddenly let out a scream that shook the walls.

"Help! She's attacking me!"

Then, she threw herself backward.

It was theatrical and absurd. She literally jumped back, flailing her arms, and rolled down the carpeted stairs. She landed at the bottom with a thud, sprawling out in a pose of agony.

"My baby!" she screamed, clutching her stomach. She wasn't pregnant, but it was a great line.

The front door slammed open. Coleton rushed in.

He saw Charly at the bottom of the stairs. He saw me at the top, my hand still gripping the railing.

"Arminda!" he roared.

He didn't ask what happened. He didn't smell the air to detect Charly's lie. He just reacted.

He released his Alpha Pressure.

It wasn't just a voice this time. It was a physical wave of gravity. It slammed into me like a freight train.

"Ugh!"

I collapsed. The pressure was crushing my internal organs. My already weakened body couldn't handle it. I felt a rib crack. I coughed, and hot blood splattered onto the pristine white carpet.

"You dare touch her?" Coleton snarled, his eyes glowing red. He marched up the stairs, the pressure increasing with every step.

I couldn't breathe. I was pinned to the floor, gasping like a fish out of water.

"I... didn't..." I wheezed.

He stepped over me, looking down with pure disgust. "You are a monster. Jealousy has made you rabid."

He went down to Charly, scooping her up gently. "I've got you. I've got you."

"She pushed me, Coleton," Charly sobbed into his shirt. "She tried to kill me."

Coleton looked back up at me. "Get out of my house. If I see you on my territory by sunrise, I will strip you of your rank entirely. You won't be a Rogue. You will be a Slave Wolf. You will be hunted for sport."

He carried Charly away into the living room.

I lay there for a long time, listening to the rain start to pound against the roof.

Slowly, painfully, I dragged myself up. I didn't go to my room. I didn't get my bag. I just limped to the back door and opened it.

The storm was raging. Cold rain lashed against my face, mixing with the blood on my lips.

I stepped out into the night.

The water soaked me instantly. It stung my burns, it chilled my bones, but it felt... clean.

I walked toward the territory border. Every step was agony, but with every step, the scent of the Blood Moon Pack washed off me. The scent of Coleton-pine and rain-faded from my skin.

I reached the tall iron gates of the estate. I was almost free.

"Hold it right there."

Two pack enforcers stepped out of the guard booth, blocking my path.

"Alpha's orders," the guard grunted, not meeting my eyes. "No one leaves without exit papers signed by the Alpha himself. Bureaucracy, Arminda. You know the drill."

"He told me to leave!" I shouted over the thunder.

"He told us you can't leave until you're processed," the guard said, grabbing my arm roughly. "You're going back to the holding area until morning."

I struggled, but I was too weak. They dragged me back toward the mansion, not to the servants' quarters, but to the administrative wing. I was a prisoner in the place I used to call home.