Alana POV:
The reply came within three minutes.
Consider it done. I'll be there.
I deleted the message, wiped the RAM, and scrubbed the router logs. One hour. One hour to erase three years.
I went to the bedroom and pulled out the Divorce Agreement. In our world, legal divorce was messy, but a Mate Rejection was spiritual law. I needed to sign the legal papers first to untangle our assets, to show him I wanted nothing from his blood money.
I placed the papers on his desk, hidden under a stack of reports.
Just as I turned to leave, the front door slammed.
My scent spiked with fear. He wasn't supposed to be back.
"Alana!"
The Alpha Command in his voice hit my knees like a sledgehammer. I bit my tongue until I tasted copper to stay standing.
Austen walked in. Agitated. Dark hair messy. Eyes flashing gold. His wolf was fighting for control.
He stopped, nostrils flaring. He was inhaling my scent. Rain and jasmine. To him, it was heroin. I saw his pupils dilate. He took a step toward me, reaching out.
Mate, his wolf seemed to whisper.
For a second, the air crackled with the bond. The undeniable pull.
Then, a high-pitched scream shattered the moment.
"Austen! Help me! She put glass in it!"
Joyce.
Austen's face hardened. The gold vanished, replaced by steel gray. He pushed past me, slamming my shoulder into the doorframe.
We ran to the guest room. Joyce was on the floor, clutching her arm. Blood oozed between her fingers. Beside her, a shattered vase.
"I just wanted to talk to her," Joyce sobbed, playing the victim with Oscar-worthy precision. "I asked if her hand was okay, and she... she threw the vase at me. She called me a leech."
"I didn't," I said, voice shaking. "I haven't seen her all night."
"Liar!" Joyce shrieked. She revealed a shallow cut on her forearm. "Look what she did!"
I smelled it then. The faint, acrid scent of Wolfsbane on the glass. Stale. Pre-applied. She had laced the glass before cutting herself.
Austen turned to me. The temperature dropped.
"You used Wolfsbane?" he growled.
"Austen, use your nose! The scent is stale! She put it there herself!" I pleaded.
Austen grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at him. His grip was bruising. "My wolf wants to rip the throat out of anyone who accuses you."
A flicker of hope.
"But my wolf is an animal guided by biology. I am guided by honor. You attacked the woman who saved my life."
"I saved your life!" I screamed. The truth ripped out of me.
Austen froze. Then, he laughed. Dark. Hollow. "You? You were a child. You passed out from fear in the backseat. Joyce carried both of us."
He shoved me away. "Stay here. I need to get the antidote."
He turned to Joyce, voice softening. "I'll be right back."
He left.
I stood there, panting. Joyce stopped crying instantly. The tears evaporated. She looked at me, a smirk curling her lips.
"You're pathetic," she whispered. "I own his guilt, Alana. Which means I own him."
"I'm leaving," I said quietly. "You can have him. You deserve each other."
I turned to the door. I had to get to the access road.
Blocked.
A massive Beta warrior stood there, holding a cloth dripping with liquid. Metallic. Sharp.
High-concentration liquid Silver.
"Alpha's orders," the Beta grunted. "Containment."
"No," I gasped.
He lunged. I tried to dodge, but my broken hand slowed me down. He clamped the cloth over my face.
The silver burned like acid. My lungs seized. The last thing I saw was Joyce, checking her nails.
"Make sure you tie her tight," she said. "We have a long night ahead."
