Someone's Back

Aurora

I pushed the accelerator, feeling the engine roar as the speedometer edged closer to its limit. It had been two hours since I started driving, and I had no clue which direction I was headed. The alcohol coursing through my veins made the world blurrier with each swig from the flask I'd snatched from some guy at the club. I groaned as more tears streamed down my face.

I pounded the horn, the sound blaring into the night. I kept pressing it until the car in front of me veered to the side, clearing my path.

My claws strained beneath the surface, desperate to break free, but I forced them to stay buried. Inside, my wolf howled brimming with both fury and pain.

I sped past.

The image of my Mate and my best friend in his apartment, on his bed, fucking the shit out each other, flashed before my eyes.

God! I had really loved that asshole and I had really trusted that bitch.

My phone, on silent mode, buzzed and vibrated on the passenger seat. Dad was calling again, probably for the tenth time since I'd texted him to cancel every arrangement for the mating ceremony scheduled for next week.

My gaze fell on the ring still clinging to my finger and I tore it off and hurled it out the open window.

It would take me one day to find a better guy to fuck and purge that bastard from my system. I'd already rejected him; it wouldn't be that hard.

Another text flashed across my phone's screen: "Aurora, where are you?"—Dad.

Not a second passed before another message appeared: "Your mom's worried sick, buttercup. Get back home. Please."

Suppressing all my anger, pain, and anguish beneath my skin, I turned the car around and headed home. The guard opened the gate, and I drove into the driveway of the mansion. I got out, handing him the keys to park the car in the garage.

I was drunk as fuck and could barely walk straight.

Kicking off my heels, I grabbed them in my hands and walked into the mansion. As soon as I stepped inside, two familiar faces greeted me: my mom and dad.

The moment I stepped through the door, my mother's worried face appeared, followed closely by Dad. "Aurora!" she cried, rushing to me. "What happened? Why did you text us like that? Are you hurt?"

Dad's gaze scanned me, his concern palpable. "Aurora, what did Ryan do? Did you two have a fight?"

A small, bitter chuckle escaped my throat. "Fight? No. Nothing that simple." I walked over to the couch, collapsed onto it, and grabbed some tissues to wipe my tears.

"Then what—" Mom began, but I cut her off.

"I wanted to surprise my boyfriend, getting all dolled up and everything. Instead, I walked in on my mate and my best friend having sex. How's that for a surprise?"

Mom gasped, clamping her hand over her mouth. Her eyes softened as she sat beside me and gently took my hand. "Come here, baby." She tried to pull me into a hug, but I pulled away.

"No, Mom. Don't give me that look," I said firmly. "I'm not crying over an asshole, so there's no need to comfort me."

"I will talk to Alpha Robert right now. How dare his son treat my daughter like that!" Dad turned around, ready to march over to Robert's house.

"What's the purpose of it all, anyway? Will it magically solve everything?" I exclaimed, "Alpha Robert's no different from his son, a certified jerk who's cheated his mate's countless times. So this will look like a very trivial matter to him. A small mistake. But I'm not Isabelle; I refuse to endure this supposed mate-bond nonsense any longer. Even the moon goddess slips up, and this is one of her blunders. I've already rejected that jerk, and I won't entertain the idea of letting him in again, not even if you paid me—I am not going back to him. So, let's drop this discussion; there's no point in pursuing it further."

"Whether you're going back—which I won't allow—or not, Ryan needs to fucking apologize for what he did. He will have to pay for hurting you."

"Dad—" I started, but before I could say more, a voice interrupted.

"Well, I have informed my beta. They will track her down—"

The sound of heavy footsteps approached us, drawing my attention to the doorway. There stood a man, six-foot-two, dressed in a black shirt and beige slacks. His muscles looked like they were sculpted from steel, and the rolled-up sleeves revealed glimpses of intricate tattoos inked on his arms. His hair was neatly styled back, and every step he took exuded the commanding presence of an Alpha.

As my eyes met his, the steel-gray eyes that seemed forged from cold and mesmerizing molten silver that looked away from his phone and fixed on me, he stopped speaking, his next words dying on the tip of his tongue. And suddenly I exactly knew who he was—Jaxon Blackwood.

Jaxon fucking Blackwood—The man whose face I used to imagine between my thighs when I was only....fifteen.