Ember POV:
The penthouse suite was in chaos.
When I arrived back at the Pack House, my meager belongings were already scattered in the hallway. My suitcase was overturned, my clothes ripped.
Chace was waiting for me. He held a leather-bound sketchbook in his hand. My mother's sketchbook. It was the only thing I had left of her spirit—her drawings of the house she wanted to build for us, the garden she wanted to plant.
"You ruined the night," Chace said. His voice was calm, which was scarier than his shouting. "The King's representative humiliated us. My investors are pulling out."
"I didn't do anything," I said, eyeing the book. "Give that back."
Karyn lounged in the doorway of the bedroom, filing her nails. "Burn it, Chace. It's full of Rogue symbols anyway."
Chace pulled a lighter from his pocket. He flicked it. The small flame danced, reflecting in his cold eyes.
"No!" I lunged forward.
Chace caught me easily. He was an Alpha; I was an unshifted female. He shoved me back, and I hit the wall hard. The breath left my lungs.
"You are a curse, Ember," Chace said. He held the flame to the edge of the book. The leather began to smoke. "Everything you touch rots. Your mother was a whore, and you are nothing but a burden I've carried for too long."
"Stop it!" I screamed. "Please!"
"Beg," Karyn laughed. "On your knees."
I looked at the burning book. Then I looked at Chace.
I saw the boy who used to share his lunch with me. I saw the teenager who promised to protect me. And then I saw the man standing before me, burning my heart for the amusement of a woman who didn't even love him.
The love I had held for him, the loyalty that had kept my wolf silent for years... it didn't just fade. It died. It was a violent, sudden death.
Something in my chest snapped. It was an audible sound, like a dry twig breaking in a silent forest.
The pain was excruciating. It felt like my soul was being torn in half. But beneath the pain, there was freedom.
I stood up. I didn't kneel.
I looked Chace dead in the eye.
I, Ember Ford, reject you.
I didn't say the words out loud. I didn't give him the satisfaction of a public ritual. I said it to the Moon Goddess. I said it to the bond that tied us.
Snip.
The connection between us vanished. The constant, low-level hum of his presence in the back of my mind went silent.
Chace gasped. He dropped the burning book and clutched his chest. He stumbled back, his face going grey.
"What..." he wheezed. "What did you do?"
"Chace?" Karyn asked, stepping forward. "Is it your heart?"
"It hurts," Chace groaned, rubbing his sternum. He looked at me, confusion warring with pain in his eyes. He didn't know what had happened. He was too arrogant to realize I had just cut him loose. He probably thought it was indigestion.
I walked past him. I stomped on the burning book, extinguishing the flames. I picked it up, clutching the charred remains to my chest.
"Get out," Chace whispered, leaning against the table for support. "Get out of my sight before I kill you."
I walked to the door. My body felt light, untethered.
As I reached the threshold, I felt a strange sensation in my eyes. A prickling heat. I glanced at the hallway mirror.
For a split second, my eyes weren't brown. They were molten silver, swirling with flecks of gold.
The White Wolf was no longer scratching at the door. She had kicked it open.
"Goodbye, Chace," I said.
I didn't look back.
