Dante POV:
The silence in my head was louder than the shouting.
For ten years, she was a background hum. A golden thread.
Now, gone.
Scooped out.
"She is gone," I said.
Isabella marched back in. Makeup smeared.
"You are insane," she hissed.
"Get out, Isabella."
"No! You're mobilizing for a pet? An orphan who couldn't Shift?"
"She is not a pet," I snarled. Eyes flashing red.
"Then what is she? Why keep a useless girl for ten years? Why go feral over an empty room?"
"Because she is my Mate."
The words hung heavy.
Isabella froze.
"You..." she breathed. "You knew."
"Since she was eight," I admitted. The memory of vanilla and smoke hit me. "I waited. But she didn't Shift. She was weak. If I claimed her, the Council would have eaten her. My enemies would have targeted her."
I cracked the table with my fist.
"I pushed her away to save her! I made her invisible! I let you torment her because I thought... I thought if she was just a servant, she would be safe. I needed her to run from you."
Isabella laughed. Cold, brittle.
"You didn't save her, Dante. You destroyed her. And us."
She ripped off the ring and threw it at me.
"I won't be second choice to a ghost. I reject this engagement. You are the King of New York... and the poorest man I know."
She stormed out.
I looked at the ring. Nothing.
I looked at the map. Toronto.
My wolf was howling for his other half. Logic was dying. The hunt remained.
"Prepare the cars," I ordered. "If Rossi doesn't give her back... we burn his city."
I touched the collar in my pocket.
I would put it back on her. I would never let her go.
Seraphina POV:
Pain was a familiar roommate. But this was a dull ache, not a sharp burn.
I woke up. William was reading by the window.
"You're awake."
I scrambled back. Heart hammering.
"Peace, Seraphina," he said, standing slowly.
"Where is Dante?"
"Hundreds of miles away. You've been asleep three days."
He picked up a bowl. "Need to change the dressings. Silver leached into the blood."
I covered my neck. The memory of sizzling flesh made me nauseous.
"No."
I braced for him to grab me.
William stopped.
"I am a Beta," he said. "The Alpha is the storm. The Beta is the balance. I cannot force healing."
He waited.
Choice.
He didn't smell like a predator. He smelled like old paper. Safe.
I lowered my hands.
"It hurts," I admitted.
"I know."
He worked. Cool, steady hands.
"Your body is fighting hard," he murmured. "Regenerating fast. It is the White Wolf blood. Royal line. Stubborn."
"It didn't save me from being a slave."
"No," William agreed. "But it kept you alive long enough to get free."
He offered water.
"Drink. Your father wants to see you."
I took the glass. Fingers brushed. Warm.
Dante saw a problem. William saw a person.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Rest, little wolf. No collars here."
The water tasted like hope.
