The Bond Frays

Lucas’s POV

There’s a point in the hunt when the predator starts to wonder if he’s the one being hunted. That moment crept in like smoke—unnoticed at first, just a scent, a shift in the wind. But now, it was undeniable.

Selina was no longer just avoiding me. She was outpacing me.

Every step I took toward her, she took two steps ahead. Every move I made to tighten the noose, she slipped out of with precision. Not just reaction—but anticipation.

She wasn’t running from me. She was toying with me, and it was driving me fucking insane.

I hadn’t slept in forty hours. Not because I couldn’t, but because I wouldn’t.

I didn’t deserve rest until I cracked her open—peeled her back layer by layer until the truth spilled out like blood.

Until she said it out loud. That Damon was mine, and that she was still mine.

But the longer she stayed silent, the more the bond pulsed with something I couldn’t name. Something cold. Something's wrong.

My wolf was restless. Agitated.

Agitated with me.

He didn’t understand. Didn’t care for strategy or subtlety. He wanted the bond restored, complete. He wanted her claimed. But what if she didn’t want it?

What if she didn’t feel it anymore? What if…

What if the bond was broken?

I sat in my office; the city sprawled beneath me like prey waiting to be devoured.

“She’s outmaneuvering you,” Grant said carefully, standing across from me. “No leaks. No slips. Her teams are airtight.”

“She’s bleeding money to keep that security wall up,” I snapped. “It won’t last. No one sustains perfect defense.”

Grant hesitated. “What if she doesn’t care about sustaining it?”

I turned slowly. “Speak plainly.”

“What if this isn’t about defense at all? What if she’s already done running? What if… she’s not hiding from you but replacing you?”

The silence in the room turned sharp. That couldn't be it. No!

“Say that again,” I growled.

He held my gaze. “She’s moving differently now. Not erratic. Not desperate. Strategic. Calculated. Public.”

I frowned. “Public?”

Grant handed me a tablet. “She was photographed last night at the Voltaire Gala.”

I took it, tapped it open, and there she was. My mate.

Hair swept into a knot. Crimson dress like blood and silk, slit up one leg, diamonds dripping from her ears. A goddess carved in vengeance.

Smiling on the arm of a man.

A tall, square-jawed man with soft brown hair and soft blue eyes and a soft, human lack of everything.

And she was smiling at him. Not posing. Not pretending. Not playing.

Just fucking smiling at what looks like a human. I didn’t remember how I was standing. I also fucking didn’t remember the roar in my throat.

Only the sound of glass shattering as the tablet hit the wall and broke into pieces.

“A human?” I snarled. “She’s parading herself with a human?”

“He’s a federal trade consultant. Jonathan Ward. She’s working with him on her green energy expansion.”

“I don’t give a fuck what he does,” I snapped. “She’s doing this for one reason.”

“To provoke you?” He asked.

“To punish me.” Because she knew I’d see it, she wanted me to. Nothing slices deeper than seeing your mate on the arm of another man. Especially a man whose scent doesn’t belong anywhere near her skin.

I needed air. I left the building, shifting my meeting with a European logistics group, ignoring the dozens of messages demanding my attention. I didn’t care.

I needed to move. I ended up parked three blocks from the Waverly Hotel rooftop garden, where Selina’s lunch event was already underway.

It wasn’t private. It was press-friendly. A carefully curated crowd of donors, clean energy investors, and corporate influencers.

And there she was. Standing under a white canopy, the wind tugging at her black silk blouse. Laughter lifting from her throat like music. And beside her again—him.

Jonathan Fucking Ward.

He was leaning down to whisper something. She touched his arm.

And then—she turned her head.

Looked straight at me. She knew I was there, and she fucking smiled.

Not in shock. Not in embarrassment. In triumph.

I left before I did something reckless. Before my wolf clawed out and leapt over the railing to rip the human limb from limb.

My chest ached. My skin itched with rage. The bond pulsed like a migraine behind my ribs.

But the worst part? It didn’t pull her. She didn’t flinch. Didn’t hesitate. Didn’t falter.

It was like… She didn’t feel it anymore. Like it was just me who felt the fucking bond.

Hours later, I sat in the dark of my penthouse, the city below a blur of headlights and shadows.

I’d gone over every theory.

She was manipulating me, testing me. She was covering something up. But the more I searched, the less confident I became.

She had never looked at anyone else like that before.

That smile used to be mine.

Now it was his.

And suddenly, all the certainty I’d built my world on—her being mine, Damon being mine, the bond between us—felt fragile.

Delicate.

Like it could shatter with one more well-placed lie.

Was it broken?

Had I killed it when I rejected her?

Had five years of silence turned what we had into ash? My wolf whimpered in my chest. And I hated him for it. Because I didn’t have answers. Only questions that bled like wounds. I didn’t speak to anyone the next day.

Didn’t return calls. Didn’t attend meetings.

I just watched. Selina’s press coverage hit every feed.

Photos of her and her “partner.”

Speculation. Rumors. Approval. Praise.

Power couple, they called them.

Fucking laughable. That man couldn’t handle her fury, her fire, or her darkness.

Only I ever had. But the world didn’t know that. And maybe she didn’t care anymore. Maybe she’d rather burn me out of her heart than let me back in.

I walked through the city at midnight. Alone.

The air is cold. The streets are quiet.

And all I could hear was my wolf’s silence.

No growling. No snarling. Just waiting and watching. Because even he was starting to doubt.

If the bond was broken—

If she truly chose someone else—

Then I would never forgive her or myself.

And if she was doing this to bait me—

Then I’d give her what she wanted. I’d stop watching from the shadows.

I’d stop circling like a gentleman. And I’d remind her what it means to belong to a wolf like me.