Sloane POV
I fled up the grand staircase, my heart hammering against my ribs, and locked myself in one of the estate's opulent guest rooms. The space was luxurious but entirely sterile. The air smelled of lemon polish and ancient wood, a stark contrast to the suffocating, intoxicating scent of thunderstorm and gunpowder that Knox had just wrapped me in.
But the quiet didn't last.
The heavy oak door burst open, hitting the wall with a violent thud. Finn stormed in, instantly polluting the room with the sharp, acrid stench of sour rain and desperate heartbreak. His eyes were wild, his chest heaving as he paced the length of the Persian rug.
"I'm going to tell him," Finn announced, his voice trembling with a manic, delusional energy. "I'll march right up to Hunter and tell him everything. Once he knows his precious fiancé is a cheating bitch, the ceremony is off. She'll have nowhere else to go. She'll come back to me."
I stared at him, utterly appalled by his blindness. "Are you insane? You'd start a war between two powerful packs over a female who just used you! And aren't you a hypocrite? You tolerate her betrayal, but you want to use it as a weapon against him?"
Finn stopped pacing, glaring at me with a feral intensity. "When she's the other half of your soul, it's different! You wouldn't understand!"
The insult stung, but I was too exhausted to bleed for him anymore. I looked into his frantic eyes and decided to end this pathetic charade.
"It won't work, Finn," I said, my voice flat and merciless. "Hunter already knows."
Finn froze. The manic hope drained from his face, leaving behind a hollow, jagged shock. His Inner Wolf let out a phantom whine of confusion. "What? How could you possibly know that?"
I hesitated, my stomach twisting. "Knox told me."
The moment the name left my lips, Finn's expression contorted into something ugly and unrecognizable. He stepped closer, his nostrils flaring as he inhaled deeply. The sour rain scent turned bitter, laced with a sudden, territorial panic. He could smell it—the heavy, lingering pheromones of his Alpha brother still clinging to my clothes and skin.
"I guess you two had plenty of time to chat while his scent was all over you, huh?" Finn sneered, his voice dripping with venomous jealousy. "What else did he whisper to you while he had you pinned downstairs? Are you his new spy?"
"Don't you dare make this about me!" I yelled, the ten years of suppressed anger finally boiling over. "You want to talk about betrayal? You lied to me for a decade! You never told me your Alpha brother lived in New York. You never told me Hunter Strickland was his best friend. I walked into a warzone blindfolded because of your secrets!"
Finn flinched but quickly masked it with defensive anger. "He's manipulating you, Sloane! You don't know him. Our rivalry gets ugly, and he will use you just to destroy me!"
"Everything. Is. Always. About. You. Finn."
I punctuated each word with a step forward, pouring a decade of exhaustion and disappointment into the space between us.
The words struck him like a physical blow. The last thread of his fragile sanity snapped. Deprived of Delilah and now facing the loss of his eternal emotional sponge, Finn's Inner Wolf completely shattered.
His knees buckled. He slid down the edge of the silk-draped bed, collapsing onto the floor like a puppet with its strings cut. He curled into himself, burying his face in his hands as ragged, pathetic sobs tore from his chest. "Please," he choked out. "Please don't fight with me, Sloane. I have nothing left."
I stood there, my chest heaving. I wanted to stay angry. I wanted to walk out. But seeing him so utterly broken triggered that deeply ingrained, toxic need to fix him. The anger evaporated, replaced by a suffocating wave of guilt.
I sank to the floor beside him and wrapped my arms around his shaking shoulders. We sat in the ruins of our friendship for a long time.
I needed to break the suffocating tension. I needed to pull him out of this spiral, even if it meant exposing my own dangerous curiosity.
"Take me somewhere," I whispered into the quiet room. Finn sniffled, looking up at me with red-rimmed eyes. "Knox... he showed me a glimpse of this dark, terrifying world. I want to see it for myself. I want to see what 'immoral' really looks like."
A desperate spark ignited in Finn's eyes. It was a chance to escape his pain, a chance to play my protector again. He wiped his face, his jaw setting with a reckless determination.
"I know a place," Finn rasped, pulling himself up. "A Rogue club on the edge of the territory. The Den."
