Arminda POV:
"Did you hear me?" Coleton demanded, stepping closer to the bed. His Alpha presence filled the small room, usually enough to make me cower.
Today, I just stared at his neck.
"I am not a nurse anymore, Coleton," I said, my voice raspy but steady. I lifted my arm, showing him the fresh bandages from the fire. "And my ankle is broken. I cannot walk, let alone mix sedatives for your girlfriend."
Coleton frowned, looking at my injuries as if noticing them for the first time. A flicker of guilt crossed his face-quickly suppressed.
"I... I intend to compensate you for the accident," he muttered. "I will pay your hospital bills."
"How generous," I said dryly. "Considering you left me in a burning building."
"I had to ensure the future Luna was safe!" he snapped defensively. "It was a tactical decision."
"Tactical," I repeated. "Is that what you call it?"
Before he could answer, a high-pitched howl echoed from outside the hospital. It was a fake, melodramatic sound.
"That's Charly," Coleton said, instantly distracted. "She must be having a panic attack."
He turned on his heel and left without another word.
I leaned back against the pillows. I closed my eyes and focused on that golden thread again. I visualized a pair of shears. Snip.
I didn't sever it completely-that required a ritual-but I blocked it. I visualized a heavy, lead door slamming shut between our souls. The constant background noise of his emotions-his arrogance, his lust for Charly, his confusion-suddenly cut off.
Silence. Blessed silence.
Two days later, my ankle was bound in a walking cast. Coleton appeared again.
"Get up," he said. "We are going to the Charity Auction tonight."
"I can barely walk," I said.
"You don't need to walk much. You just need to sit there. People are talking. They say I mistreat my staff. If you are seen with us, it will quell the rumors."
So, I was a prop.
I wore a simple black dress I had salvaged. We took the limo. Charly sat in the front passenger seat next to the driver, laughing, while Coleton sat in the back. He made me sit on the jump seat, facing him, like a child.
The auction was held in a grand ballroom in the city. Humans and wolves mingled, sipping champagne.
When we entered, Coleton linked arms with Charly. I trailed behind, limping.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," Coleton announced to a group of visiting Alphas. "May I present Charly Mack. My Chosen Mate."
The term "Chosen Mate" implies a rejection of the Moon Goddess's will. It means the wolf is choosing their partner based on politics or preference, ignoring destiny. It is an insult to tradition.
The other Alphas exchanged awkward glances. They could smell me. They could smell the faint, lingering bond between Coleton and me. They knew he was parading a mistress while his True Mate limped behind him.
"Congratulations," one Alpha said stiffly.
The auction began. Coleton bought Charly everything she pointed at. A diamond necklace. A vintage fur coat. A trip to the Maldives.
Then, a painting came up. It was an oil painting of a wolf howling at a massive, silver moon. The artist had captured the spiritual longing of our kind perfectly.
I gasped. It was beautiful. For a second, I forgot my misery. I leaned forward, entranced.
Coleton noticed.
"Five thousand," I whispered, reading the starting bid. It was more money than I had ever seen.
"Ten thousand!" Coleton shouted, raising his paddle.
My heart leaped. Did he see me? Was he buying it for me?
"Sold to Alpha Barron!" the auctioneer banged his gavel.
Coleton turned to me with a smug smile. He picked up the receipt and handed it... to Charly.
"For the guest room," Coleton said. "It matches the curtains."
Charly glanced at the painting with boredom. "It's a bit gloomy, isn't it? But thanks, babe."
I felt the blood drain from my face.
Coleton turned back to me, pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. He tossed it into my lap.
"Here," he said. "Don't say I never gave you anything."
I opened it. It was a pair of cubic zirconia earrings. Cheap costume jewelry. The kind you buy at a gas station.
"Put them on," he ordered. "Smile for the cameras."
I looked at the earrings, then at him. I closed the box and set it gently on the table.
"No," I said.
"Excuse me?" His eyes darkened.
"I don't want your charity, Coleton. And I certainly don't want your pity."
I stood up, grabbing my cane.
"Sit down!" he commanded.
"No." I walked away. For the first time, his Alpha Command didn't freeze me. My wall was holding. I walked out of the ballroom, leaving him staring at my back, confused why his power was slipping.
