Chapter 4

By the time I got back to our rooms, rage and humiliation were burning through my veins.

No more waiting.

No more watching him play his twisted games.

I was going to confront him. Rip away that perfect mask once and for all.

An hour later, Byron returned.

He walked through the door carrying a thick, chaotic scent.

It was a mess of Ariana’s sharp floral perfume, his own cedarwood scent, and a faint, unsettling undertone of blood and herbs.

His face was etched with exhaustion, his shirt cuffs wrinkled and messy.

He saw me and froze for a second, then tried to force a smile. "Sandra? You're still up?"

I stood in the center of the living room, arms crossed, cold as a block of ice. "Where were you?"

"Handling a... difficult situation."

He walked to the liquor cabinet and poured himself a whiskey, his hand not quite steady.

"A difficult situation?" I sneered, stalking toward him. "Or was it just another one of Ariana's 'emergencies' that only you could handle?"

His hand froze mid-air. His back was to me, but I saw his shoulders go rigid.

"Sandra, don't."

"Don't what?" I circled around to face him, staring into his tired, golden eyes. "I saw you take her mind-link in the dungeon. I saw the frustration on your face. And now you come back reeking of her chaos. Byron, what the hell are our pup and I to you?"

"It's not—" he started, his voice a raw rasp, but he cut himself off.

As if the words were stuck in his throat, choking him.

"It's not what?" I pressed, closing in. Desperation and rage made me reckless.

"You smell like her! It's the kind of scent that only clings when emotions run high, when you're holding someone close! Tell me, are you tired of me? Was I just a tool to secure your position from the very beginning?"

"Enough!" He slammed the glass down, whiskey sloshing over the rim. His eyes were filled with pain. "It's not what you think!"

"Then what is it?" I screamed. "Explain it! Tell me why you sacrificed my brother and our unborn pup for her! Why does the entire pack have to bend to her every whim? What kind of hold does she have on you?"

"I can't tell you!" he roared, like a caged animal. "You're better off not knowing!"

"That same damn excuse!" I completely lost it. "'It's for your own good!' 'It's for the pack!' You always have a noble reason, don't you? Byron, I am done with your secrets and your lies!"

That was the moment I snapped.

My inner wolf surged, a tidal wave of fury and grief. Power exploded from me, uncontrolled.

The glasses in the room began to hum and vibrate. The lights flickered wildly.

Byron’s expression shifted from pain to pure alarm.

"Sandra, calm down!" He grabbed my shoulders. "Get control of your power! It's going to tear you apart!"

I could feel my sanity slipping, swallowed by the raging wolf inside me.

I wanted to destroy everything. Destroy him. Destroy this world of lies.

"Let go of me!" I struggled, my nails digging bloody lines into his arms.

"I can't!"

He stared at my eyes, which were beginning to glow red with uncontrolled power. A look of utter desperation and heartbreak crossed his face. "Your mind is about to shatter! Sandra, please, stop!"

But I couldn't hear him over the roaring in my ears, the sound of my own heart breaking.

"I'm sorry..." His trembling voice was a whisper from far away. "I'm so sorry. I can't let you destroy yourself..."

Then I felt it.

A gentle but unstoppable force, flowing into me through our mate bond.

No. He wouldn't—

"What are you doing?" I stared at him in horror. Tears were streaming down his face.

"I'm saving you," he choked out, his voice thick with an agony I couldn't understand. "Through our sacred bond, I, Alpha Byron... temporarily... seal your wolf."

"No!" I shrieked. "You can't! That's blasphemy!"

But it was too late.

The power began to drain out of me, like water from a cracked dam.

It felt like a hole was being ripped open in my very soul, everything precious pouring out.

My wolf, my soulmate since birth, let out a final, desperate howl.

And then, silence.

I collapsed to the floor, gasping.

My senses were dulling, fading away. My sharp hearing, my keen sense of smell, my night vision—all gone.

The worst part... my wolf was gone.

Completely vanished.

He knelt beside me, his own breathing ragged. His voice was a strained, painful whisper. "Sandra... are you... calm now?"

I tried to speak, but my voice was gone.

I tried to stand, but my legs were useless.

He took a deep breath, his face hardening into a mask of cold resolve. "This ends now, Sandra. Until you learn to control yourself, I'm holding onto your power. It's for your own protection. And for the protection of everyone else."

I looked up into his eyes, those golden eyes I used to adore.

All I could see now was cold, hard control.

My wolf, the other half of my soul, was silent for the first time in my life.

And in that terrible silence, all that was left was a cold, burning hatred.