Ariana POV
Holden's bruising grip on my jaw sent a terrifying tremor through the mate-bond, but I forced my eyes to remain dead and hollow. He wasn't holding me out of love; he was holding me because his Alpha ego couldn't fathom losing a possession.
I slowly reached into the nightstand drawer, my fingers brushing past the ruined rose petals on the floor. I pulled out a thick stack of parchment-a Pack Separation Agreement drafted by a human lawyer.
"If you won't sever the bond, then let's at least divide the territory assets," I choked out, shoving the papers against his chest.
Holden glanced at the title. His eyes instantly flared a bloodthirsty crimson. His Inner Wolf roared at the sheer audacity of my challenge. He didn't even bother to read the clauses. With a feral snarl, his claws extended, shredding the legal document into confetti.
"You are a wolfless dependent, Ariana," he growled, his voice vibrating with absolute Alpha authority as he threw the shredded pieces over the ruined bed. "You own nothing. You are nothing without my protection. Stop throwing these pathetic tantrums over an Omega."
He turned on his heel and slammed the heavy oak door behind him, leaving me in the suffocating silence of the master bedroom. I stared at the torn paper mingling with the crushed roses. Conventional methods would never work. I needed a foolproof plan to execute the irreversible Rejection ritual in exactly one month.
The next evening, the air inside Holden's Maybach was thick with his oppressive cedar scent. We were heading to the Taylor Pack Estate for a family dinner, and Holden was acting as if last night's violent outburst had never happened. His Inner Wolf was smug, convinced that his display of dominance had successfully cowed me.
"If the intern bothers you that much," Holden said smoothly, staring out the rain-streaked window, "I'll have Bree reassigned to the Border Patrols. Consider it a gift."
He turned to me, his gaze hardening with a subtle Alpha warning. "But don't ever push my bottom line again."
Before I could respond, his demeanor shifted seamlessly into the role of the devoted husband. He reached over, wrapping his large hand around mine. "Keep taking the Healer's herbs, my love. I want us to focus on the future. On our strong Alpha pups."
My stomach violently churned at the thought of bearing pups for a man who smelled of another woman's cheap vanilla. I suppressed the urge to gag, subtly sliding my hand out from beneath his.
"Of course," I murmured, staring blankly ahead.
The grand dining room of the Taylor Pack Estate was a monument to their wealth, the long mahogany table groaning under a feast set with pure gold and bone china. Yet, my biological father, Alpha Gene, my mother, Luna Beverly, and my two brothers sat in absolute silence. Our stomachs were empty. We were waiting for Kylie's international video call. Because she was a wolfless Omega, the Pack's mind-link couldn't reach her across the ocean.
I had no patience left for this sick favoritism. I picked up my gold fork and reached for a slice of roast.
"Put that down," Alpha Gene barked, his cedar scent spiking with irritation. "We wait for your sister."
I dropped the fork, letting it clatter loudly against the china. "Why? She's probably too busy throwing herself at high-ranking Alphas or Lycans abroad to remember the time difference."
The reaction was instantaneous. Beside me, Holden stiffened. His scent flared with a sudden, sharp spike of jealousy he couldn't completely mask. He was thinking about Kylie with another man.
But it was my second brother, Bryan, who completely lost his mind.
"Shut your mouth!" Bryan roared. His volatile Alpha wolf surged to the surface. He slammed his fist onto the table, violently backhanding the heavy bone-china tureen of boiling meat stew.
The heavy bowl shattered. The scalding, boiling liquid erupted across the table, splashing directly onto my chest and abdomen.
A searing, blistering agony ripped through my skin. I gasped, gripping the edge of the mahogany table as the hot liquid soaked through my blouse, burning me alive.
"Oh, please," Luna Beverly sneered, rolling her eyes at my trembling frame. She didn't even flinch at my pain. "Stop the pity play, Ariana. Holden isn't going to fall for your dramatic victim act just because you spilled some soup."
"You're a constant embarrassment to this Pack," my eldest brother, Bradford, muttered in disgust.
Holden, finally snapping out of his jealous daze over my comment about Kylie, realized what had happened. "Ariana!" he gasped. He reached out, his Alpha scent flaring in a desperate attempt to soothe my pain, his hands moving to inspect the damage.
I violently shoved his hands away.
My eyes were completely dry, devoid of a single tear, burning with an absolute, glacial hatred. Without a word, I grabbed the hem of my soaked, clinging shirt and yanked it up. I exposed the raw, blistered red flesh to the entire room-and right beneath the fresh burns, the dark, twisted, dead-branch-like scar from the silver poison four years ago.
