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Chapter 4: Compliment

last update Data de publicação: 2026-03-09 23:44:02

Elara’s POV:

Rhys stared at me, his shock quickly curdling into contempt. 

He crossed his massive arms over his chest, the posture of an Alpha daring a subordinate to defy him.

"Don't be an idiot, Elara," he growled, the command cutting through the air. "Break the bond? Do you hear yourself? Without the Luna title, without my protection, you wouldn't last one night outside. The rogues would tear you apart before dawn. 

Stop with this juvenile theatrics."

He didn't care about my feelings. He cared about the inconvenience of finding a new Mate and the weakness my absence would project to rival Packs. I was just property attempting to self-destruct.

"I'm not a child, Rhys. And I'm not asking. I'm telling you." I held his gaze, willing the tremor in my voice to disappear. "I'd rather take my chances with the rogues than stay here and be your goddamn doormat."

Just as Rhys was about to unleash a storm, Seraphina emerged from the hallway, looking concerned and utterly innocent. She was wearing a delicate silk robe, perfectly offsetting her pale, 'frail' demeanor.

"Rhys, darling, please," she cooed, her hand flying to her chest. "Don't fight. Not over me. Elara, I am truly sorry if I caused any trouble. Rhys is just being protective because I'm so exhausted, but you shouldn't be angry at your beautiful Mate."

She walked closer, her eyes glittering with smug victory. She was speaking to Rhys, but her words were aimed solely at me.

"Honestly, I can't thank you enough, Elara. I just adore your Jaxon. He's such a clever, sweet boy. So well-behaved! You must be such a proud Mama."

"Look at this sweet gift he made me! He said it was a little wolf. He's such a little artist. I feel so cherished. I know how much work you put into him, Elara, but honestly, he's just the best companion. He makes my life so much easier than…" She paused, perfectly, letting the implication hang. 

Easier than dealing with his useless mother.

My fists clenched so tightly my nails dug into my palms. The passive-aggressive cruelty was breathtaking. She was using my son's affection as a weapon, rubbing my failure in my face while simultaneously pretending to praise me.

Rhys softened instantly, looking at Seraphina with a protective tenderness that felt like a hot iron pressed against my skin. "You need rest, Sera. Stop worrying about us."

Seraphina gave a little sigh. "I know, I'm quite dizzy. But Rhys, Elara looks so upset. Why don't you two talk? Clear up any little misunderstandings. And please, thank her properly for taking such good care of the Pack while I was gone. I'm just going upstairs to take a nice, long bath to soothe my poor nerves."

She gave Rhys a meaningful, intimate look. A nice, long bath. The unspoken promise of what would happen after that bath hung heavy in the air.

Rhys nodded, his voice instantly solicitous. "Don't stay in too long. You know you get lightheaded."

Seraphina gave me a tiny, victorious smile and headed for the stairs.

The moment she was gone, I turned back to Rhys, the rage now cold, clear, and absolute.

"Fine," I said, my voice low and dangerous. "Keep the title. But I want the bond broken. And don't worry about Jaxon. I'm leaving him here."

Rhys threw his head back and laughed, a harsh, barking sound. "Oh, now you're going for the noble martyr act? Don't be pathetic, Elara. We both know you're just jealous. As the Alpha, it's my duty to protect the victims in my Pack, especially after what Sera went through. You need to grow up."

He didn't wait for my response. He just shook his head, already dismissing me, his gaze drifting toward the stairs where Seraphina had disappeared.

"Now, go to your room and sleep it off. We'll discuss the logistics of your… temper tantrum in the morning."

But before I could speak, a terrified, ear-splitting scream tore through the silence from upstairs.

"RHYS! "

It was Seraphina.

Rhys didn't hesitate. All the contempt and icy dismissal he had for me vanished, replaced by sheer, animalistic panic. 

He turned and bolted toward the stairs, taking them two at a time, his boots pounding against the wood, leaving me alone in the flickering firelight.

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