Ciara Ford POV:
Darius's mask of calm and benevolent control completely disintegrated.
Then, the physical backlash of the rejection hit us both.
A sharp, visceral agony ripped through my chest as the sacred mate bond connecting our souls began to violently sever.
I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, refusing to let out even a single whimper.
To an ordinary she-wolf, this pain was unbearable.
But to me?
The agonizing memories of my own flesh roasting and melting in my previous life had long numbed me to this trivial sting.
Darius, however, staggered back heavily.
A raw, animalistic groan escaped his throat as his hand flew to his chest, clutching his tailored shirt.
The shock quickly morphed into absolute, narcissistic rage.
"You actually broke our bond?!" he roared, his eyes flashing to a dangerous, glowing gold as he finally processed the legal documents in his hand.
The loss of his mate enraged him, but losing his control over me cut far deeper.
A palpable wave of power rolled off him, the oppressive aura of an Alpha demanding total submission.
The air in the foyer grew heavy, thick with his fury.
"Do you have any idea what you did, Ciara? You think throwing this pathetic, suicidal tantrum will force me to compromise?!"
Even now, he actually thought I was just playing a high-stakes game of hard-to-get.
He expected me to flinch.
To shrink back.
To submit to his Alpha command and beg for his affection.
I didn't.
Because the moment I initiated the rejection, his bloodline hold over me evaporated.
His oppressive aura felt like a toddler's tantrum now—loud, annoying, and completely meaningless.
"I know exactly what I'm doing," I said, my voice cold and steady. "I am cutting a tumor out of my life."
My calm defiance was gasoline on his fire.
He closed the distance between us in a blink, his towering shadow falling over me.
He grabbed my wrist, his fingers digging viciously into my tender skin.
"You think you can just walk away?" he spat, his words turning cruel to mask the searing pain of the tearing bond. "Who would want you? A broken, unstable she-wolf who just spent five days in a psychiatric isolation ward? I'll have the guards lock you back in that cell right now until you remember your place!"
A genuine, chilling laugh escaped my lips.
It was a bitter sound that made the hair on his arms stand up.
"Unstable?" I raised an eyebrow, easily swatting his hand away with my newfound clarity. "You mean the convenient diagnosis you tried to force on me to protect your little mistress?"
I reached into my coat pocket and pulled out a crisp, folded document.
I slapped it right over the withdrawal papers he was holding.
It was an official psychiatric discharge summary, stamped and signed just an hour ago.
At the bottom, in clear, bold print, were the words: "Comprehensive evaluation confirms no signs of feral behavior or clinical psychosis. Patient is in perfect mental health. — Signed, Vance, Head Pack Physician."
Darius stared at Vance's signature, his pupils shrinking in disbelief.
He was finally realizing I wasn't throwing a jealous fit.
I had spent those five days executing a flawless exit strategy.
Before Darius could utter another word, footsteps echoed from the grand staircase.
"Darius? I heard shouting..."
It was Geneva.
She descended the stairs, holding a covered ceramic bowl, the perfect picture of domestic concern.
My eyes immediately narrowed.
She wasn't just wearing her cheap perfume; she was draped in my favorite cream-colored cashmere cardigan, casually acting like the lady of the manor.
"I heard Ciara was finally released, so I made some calming chamomile soup in the kitchen," she cooed, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness.
She walked over, her expression a flawless blend of confusion, fear, and hurt.
"Oh," she whispered, clutching the soup bowl to her chest like a fragile shield, looking at the legal documents scattered on the marble floor. "Am I... interrupting something? Ciara, please don't be mad at Darius, it's all my fault..."
Darius's anger, which had been directed at me, immediately softened at the sight of her tears.
He instinctively stepped in front of her, shielding this "fragile" creature.
"Ciara is just having another one of her unreasonable episodes," Darius said through gritted teeth, glaring at me.
"Ciara," Geneva whimpered, looking at me with wide, teary eyes. "Please, I didn't mean to take your job at the logistics center! If you're angry, just punish me! I'll move out of the bridal suite, I promise! Just don't reject Darius over your jealousy!"
I crossed my arms, watching their cheap theater with absolute zero emotion.
I felt strangely detached, like a spectator watching two clowns perform in a burning circus.
"Save the acting, Geneva," I said, my voice cutting through her fake sobs like a scythe. "There's no need for you to move out. Like I said, you can keep the lingerie, and keep the trash standing in front of you."
I looked at Darius, who looked completely trapped between his furious former mate and his weeping mistress.
"You wanted to demonstrate your 'tolerance and mercy' to this starving single mother?" I mocked, throwing his own hypocritical words from five days ago right back at his face. "Congratulations, Alpha Darius. You now have the rest of your life to coddle her."
"Now, Darius," I ordered, my voice ringing with undeniable authority. "Get your parasite out of my sight."
