Chapter 2

Valerie 

The silence in the hall was embarrassing, every pair of eyes pinned to my face. I didn't break. I refused to give him the satisfaction of a single tear.

Turning on my heel, I walked out of the dining room.

The moment I reached the quiet corridor of the north wing, the composure cracked. My teeth slammed together, my chest burning with a fury so violent my wolf clawed at the walls of my chest.

After everything.

After six years of holding his pack together, bleeding on the northern borders, and building his reputation while he played politics.

I pushed open the door to his private study, my hands shaking uncontrollably. On the side table sat a crystal of twenty-year-old aged liquor—a rare, silver-laced vintage reserved only for Alpha victory ceremonies.

Two months ago, after I nearly lost my arm taking down a rogue commander for him, I had asked for a single glass to share with him. Dante had sneered, telling me I was being frivolous, that it was wasted on someone who couldn't appreciate tradition.

Yet less than an hour ago, I watched him uncork that exact bottle at the head table, pouring a full glass for Elara, leaning over her chair to brush his thumb over her knuckles while she giggled into her silk sleeve.

"Hypocrite.”

I grabbed the decanter, unstoppered it, and took a deep, burning swig straight from the bottle. The liquid scorched my throat, fire blooming in my chest. I took another swig, then another, the harsh alcohol mixing with the bitter taste of the pain I felt 

"Damn you, Dante.”

My head spun, but it wasn't just the alcohol.

A sudden, intense spike of heat pooled deep in my lower belly. My skin flushed hot, a shiver trailing down my spine that had nothing to do with the cold evening air.

My heat cycle.

It wasn't due for another two months, but the intense emotional trauma of the shattered mate bond was forcing my wolf into a desperate, chaotic state. My body was screaming for a mate, exposed and agonizingly sensitive to every shift in the air.

"Not now.”

"Please, not tonight..."

Stumbling out of the study, I made my way toward the dressing chamber adjacent to the master suite to grab my traveling coat before heading down to the basement cells. I pushed the door open and slipped into the dimly lit room. I reached for the wardrobe, but before my fingers could touch the handle, a tall shadow detached itself from the corner of the room.

A hand locked around my waist.

I froze, a small gasp tearing from my throat as I was hauled backward into a chest that felt like granite. The grip was terrifyingly strong, pinning my back against a broad, muscular frame.

The heat pooling in my blood flared into a blazing inferno the instant those broad fingers dug into my hips. The physical contact sent a shockwave of electrical current straight down my spine, melting my knees.

"Dante?" I breathed.

He didn't answer.

His other hand came up, wrapping around the front of my neck—exposing the sensitive curve of my throat.

"Is this your sick idea of an apology?" I hissed, trying to summon my anger, but my wolf purred, leaning into the harsh press of his body. "Stripping my title in front of everyone, and then sneaking into the dark like a coward?"

He let out a low, dark rumble from deep within his chest. It vibrated straight through my back, thick with pure, primitive dominance.

He was being rougher than usual. Unforgiving.

I caught the scent rolling off him—rich cedar, rain, and something dark and metallic. It was thicker than the usual crisp pine I was used to, but my heat-addled brain, combined with the liquor, brushed it aside. He's angry, I reasoned through the haze. His wolf is out of control because of the pack conflict.

"Answer me," I whispered, turning in his grip.

Instead of speaking, his lips slammed against mine.

The kiss was wild, ruthless, and entirely possessive. He tasted like rain and dark spices, his tongue velvet and demanding as he parted my lips, taking complete control of my mouth.

A whimpering sigh escaped me. My hands shot up on their own accord, gripping the fabric of his jacket, pulling him closer.

He leaned into me, pressing me back against the desk. His fingers tangled into my hair, pulling gently to deepen the angle as his mouth tracked down my jawline, biting lightly at the sensitive skin right above my collarbone.

"Dante... wait..." I gasped, even as my hips arched into his of their own volition.

He ignored my weak protest entirely. His hands slid down the front of my silk dress, the sharp sound of fabric tearing echoing through the dark room as he stripped the obstacle away.

The contrast of the cool night air against my bare skin made me shiver, but his touch was pure fire. He gripped my thighs, lifting me effortlessly onto the edge of the desk.

His touch was demanding, territorial, as if he were marking every single inch of my skin as his personal property. When his fingers found the burning center of my heat, a sharp scream caught in the back of my throat.

"Please," I sobbed out, lost in the intoxicating haze of the mate bond and the overwhelming pull of his aura.

He positioned himself between my legs, his breath hot against my ear.

"Mine," a voice rasped against my skin—so deep, so gravelly and dark it barely sounded human.

Before I could process the tone, he pushed into me in one deep, brutal stroke.

The world went white. Sparks of intense, blinding pleasure exploded behind my eyelids. I clamped my eyes shut, my fingernails sinking deep into his broad shoulders, pulling him down against me.

He moved with an unrelenting, rhythmic power, filling the quiet chamber with the sound of heavy breathing and the rustic scent of raw wolf chemistry. Every thrust felt mapped, intentional, driving me deeper into a mindless frenzy. He claimed me over and over, his body heavy and warm over mine, pushing me higher until a shattered scream broke from my lips as the climax ripped through my core, leaving me trembling in his arms.

A low, satisfied growl echoed against my neck as he poured his warmth deep inside me, completing the raw, uninhibited act.

I collapsed against his shoulder, my heart hammering like a trapped bird, my skin slick with sweat.

"You're a bastard..." I whispered weakly into the darkness, my voice raspy, my body completely spent. "You tear me down... then you do this..."

He didn't respond. He slowly slid back, his  hands lingering on my waist for a second before releasing me completely.

The  exhaustion, feverish burn of my heat cycle, and liquor finally dragged me under. My eyes fluttered shut against the desk, and the last thing I felt was a pair of massive, scorching arms lifting me effortlessly into the air.

When I woke up, the harsh glare of morning light was piercing through the curtains of a bedroom I didn't recognize.

My head throbbed. I shifted on the massive mattress, the crisp cotton sheets rustling against my bare skin. I smiled softly, reaching my hand across the pillows. Dante had finally come to his senses. He had apologized the only way his stubborn wolf knew how.

My fingers brushed against a solid scarred chest.

"Morning, little wolf."

The voice…It did not belong to my mate.

My eyes snapped open. I froze.

Lying beside me, propped up on one thick, muscular arm, was a man I had never seen before in my life. He was massive—far larger than Dante—with pitch-black hair, an arrogant, chiseled jaw, and eyes as dark and endless as a starless night. 

Pure horror seized my throat.

"Who are you?" I gasped, scrambling backward so fast I nearly tumbled off the edge of the mattress. I snatched the duvet, pulling it frantically over my bare chest. "What—what did you do?"

The stranger watched me with a lazy, wicked smirk, completely unbothered by his own nakedness. "You were far more welcoming last night."

My stomach violently heaved. Oh, Goddess, could it get any worse? It wasn't Dante in the study. It wasn't my mate who claimed me.

I didn't wait for him to say another word. I grabbed my dress from the floor, clutching it against my chest, and bolted out of the room, running blindly down the corridor until I realized I was in the east wing guest quarters.

Tears of humiliation burned my eyes, but the raw anger burned hotter.

I stormed downstairs, clutching the torn fabric to my body, and stumbled into the main kitchen, desperate for a glass of water to soothe my parched throat. 

"Look at you. You look pathetic."

Elara strolled into the kitchen, wearing Dante’s favorite morning robe. She looked perfectly rested, a smug, venomous smile playing on her lips. The fragile, trembling widow act was completely gone.

"Get out, Elara," I warned.

"This is my kitchen now, Valeria," she sneered, pouring herself a cup of coffee. "Dante doesn't want you anymore. He doesn't even like looking at you. If you know what’s good for you, you’ll pack whatever trash you have left, leave this territory, and never come back. You’re of no use to him. You’re of no use to anyone."

 Alessia, the head cook, suddenly walked in, wiping her flour-dusted hands on her apron.

"Luna Valeria," Alessia gasped, quickly bowing her head. "I didn't expect you down here so early."

Elara slammed her coffee mug onto the counter. "Alessia, what are we having for breakfast?"

"I was preparing the bacon and eggs for the Alpha, ma'am."

"Never mind that," Elara interrupted, crossing her arms. "Let Valeria handle all the cooking from now on."

I stared at her, my blood boiling over. "What?"

I turned to the cook. "I am your Luna. Disobedience to your Luna—you know exactly what that means, Alessia. Finish your work."

Alessia looked frantically between us, her face pale with panic.

"You can leave the dishes, Alessia," Elara commanded, taking a step toward me. "Valeria here will take care of everything. Henceforth, her responsibilities are cooking and scrubbing the floors. This is just one of your many chores."

"You think you can just come in here, order my staff around, and steal my position, my title, and my man?"

Elara smirked, leaning over the counter so only I could hear her. "Well, I already did."

She casually reached out and knocked a plate off the counter. 

"Pick it up," Elara ordered.

No."

Elara’s smirk widened into something truly psychotic. Without a second of hesitation, she dropped to her knees, grabbed a jagged piece of the broken ceramic, and deliberately slashed it across her own forearm.

Blood instantly welled up, spilling down her skin.

She dropped the shard and let out a blood-curdling, terrified scream. "Valeria, stop! Please!"

The kitchen doors violently burst open.

Dante rushed in, his eyes frantic. The moment he saw the blood pouring down Elara’s arm and me standing over her, his wolf snapped.

"Elara!" he roared, dropping to his knees to pull her against his chest.

"She pushed me, Dante!" Elara sobbed hysterically, burying her face into his neck. "I just asked her for a glass of water, and she shattered the plate and attacked me!"

Dante slowly stood up. The sheer hatred in his black eyes made me take a step back.

"You vicious, jealous bitch," he snarled, his fangs extending.

"Dante, she did it to herself! Alessia saw the whole thing!" I yelled, pointing at the cook.

But Alessia just stared at the floor, trembling uncontrollably. 

"I... I didn't see anything, Alpha. I swear."

"You know what?" 

"It's over between us. I am done dealing with your toxicity."

"Dante, don't—"

"I, Alpha Dante of the Silver Crest, formally reject you, Valeria, as my mate and my Luna!"

The words hit me like a physical bullet. An agonizing, tearing pain ripped through my chest as the goddess-given bond severed. I gasped, falling to my knees, clutching my heart as the agonizing burn consumed me.

Dante looked down at me with cold, ruthless indifference. "For even trying to do this to her, you will be severely punished. And the punishment will be determined entirely by Elara."

Elara looked down at me from Dante's arms, a wicked, victorious smile flashing across her face through her fake tears.

Before she could speak, hurried footsteps pounded down the hallway.

It was the Beta, his face drained of all color, his chest heaving as if he had just run ten miles.

"Alpha!" he gasped.

"What is it?" Dante barked.

The Beta swallowed hard, his eyes wide with terror.

 "Alpha... Lycan King Dimitri is here. He arrived last night."

Alessia gasped. Dante’s face went entirely pale, and Elara’s fake tears instantly stopped.