Harper POV:
The Alpha's Ball was a spectacle of excess. Velvet drapes, roasted meat, and the suffocating scent of pheromones.
I wore a high-necked silver gown Bennet chose. It covered my scars and my prosthetic glove. He kept a possessive hand on my spine, steering me like a trophy.
"Doesn't she look lovely?" he boasted to a visiting Beta. "Fragile, but elegant."
I smiled, a porcelain mask. "Thank you, Alpha."
From the corner of my eye, I saw her.
Gianna was dressed as a high-end server, wearing a Venetian mask that hid nothing. Her dress was cut scandalously low. Every time she passed Bennet, she brushed against him.
"Security check," Bennet whispered. "Stay here."
He walked toward the private meeting rooms. Gianna waited a beat, then followed with a tray of champagne.
I counted to ten. Then I moved.
The hallway was quiet. As I approached the conference room, the scent hit me. Artificial Heat. Chemical and overpowering.
I cracked the heavy oak door.
Gianna was on the mahogany table. Bennet was over her, eyes glowing crimson.
"Mark me, Alpha," she moaned.
"You're a bad girl, Gianna," Bennet growled.
Pain ripped through my chest. The Mate Bond, biologically intact despite his rejection, screamed. It felt like a rusty hook dragging through my heart.
I stumbled back. My heel caught the carpet runner.
I crashed into a decorative pedestal. A crystal vase shattered.
Crash!
The door flew open. Bennet stood there, shirt unbuttoned, disheveled. Gianna peeked from behind him, smirking.
"Harper?" Bennet looked panicked for a second. Then his eyes hardened. "You clumsy fool."
Gianna stepped out. She saw the shards on the floor and her eyes lit up. She lunged forward, feigning a trip.
"Oh no!"
Bennet moved with Alpha speed. He caught Gianna.
But in doing so, he shoved me.
I fell backward. My right hand—my good hand—landed squarely on a pile of broken crystal.
The flutes were rimmed with silver.
"Ahhh!" I screamed as the silver-coated glass sliced into my palm. Smoke hissed from the wound.
The pain was blinding. Worse than fire.
My head hit the marble floor.
Through the haze, I saw Bennet holding Gianna, checking her for scratches.
"Are you okay, my love?" he asked her.
He didn't even look at me.
I lay in a pool of my own blood, the silver burning my skin.
"Clean this up," Bennet told a guard, gesturing to me like I was spilled wine. "Take her to the infirmary. She's ruining the mood."
As darkness took me, I realized the bond was dead. He had killed it. And tonight, he had finally set me free.
