Chapter 2

Dominic's POV

I spotted her through the tinted window the moment the car rolled to a stop.

Six years. Six years since she'd destroyed me, and here she was—stumbling out of a dive bar in the Borderlands, cheap dress and messy ponytail, nothing like the polished Alpha Daughter.

How did she end up in a place like this?

"Sir?" Marcus kept his voice low from the driver's seat. "Should I—"

"Wait."

I'd come early to inspect the territory before officially taking control tomorrow. The Borderlands were a cesspool of rogue activity and illegal operations, exactly the kind of place that needed a firm hand.

I hadn't expected to see her here.

A black sedan pulled up ahead. Jasmine stumbled toward it, checked her phone, frowned. The car drove off.

"Move forward."

Marcus eased into the spot. Jasmine shrugged and yanked open the rear door without looking.

She collapsed beside me, reeking of whiskey and smoke. "Fourteen Birch Lane," she mumbled. "The apartment block with the blue door."

I sat perfectly still. My wolf stirred—that pathetic, broken part that had never recovered.

Her eyes drifted shut. Then her head tilted and came to rest against my shoulder.

Every muscle in my body locked.

She inhaled, face pressed to my neck. "Noir de Minuit..."

The cologne she'd given me for my twentieth birthday. I'd told myself I kept wearing it because I liked it, because it didn't matter, because I wasn't still hung up on the girl who'd crushed my heart into dust.

"I gave that to my ex once," she murmured, half-asleep. "His birthday. I sprayed it right on his collarbone—for him."

The words carved through me like claws.

Six years ago.

I'd saved for months, taking extra fights and skipping meals to put away enough money. White roses with those little purple flowers she always pointed out when we walked past the florist. Earrings that had cost me three fights' worth of bruises and a split lip that still hadn't fully healed.

Twenty years old and stupid enough to think any of it mattered.

The apartment door was unlocked when I arrived. I'd thought nothing of it—she knew I was coming, had told me to let myself in if she was still getting ready.

Then I heard the voice. Male. Cultured. Amused in a way that made my skin crawl.

"Does he really think you're going to settle for him? A nobody who gets his face smashed in for money?"

Jasmine's laugh came next, and it was light, careless, nothing like the way she laughed with me. "Dominic's sweet. Like a puppy."

I froze in the hallway, roses clutched in one hand, the small jewelry box in the other.

"Expensive puppies have pedigrees," the man said, and I could hear the smirk in his voice.

"True." A pause, and I heard movement, fabric rustling. "But he's just a toy, really. I'm bored with him anyway."

I should have left. Should have turned around and walked out and never looked back. Instead, I pushed open the bedroom door.

Jasmine stood beside the bed in a silk robe that barely covered anything, the kind she used to save for me. On the bed, lounging like he owned the place, was an Alpha I recognized from the society pages—tall, polished, everything I would never be no matter how hard I fought or bled or tried.

For just a second, something flashed in her eyes when she saw me. Something that might have been panic or guilt or fear. Then it was gone, replaced by that cool, bored expression I'd never seen her wear before.

"Dominic." Her voice was flat. "I thought you weren't coming until later."

I couldn't speak. Could only stare at her, at the male on the bed, at the wine glasses on the nightstand with lipstick marks on one rim.

"What is this?"

The other Alpha smirked, not even bothering to sit up. "I think it's fairly obvious."

My wolf surged forward before I could think, and I shifted mid-step, lunging across the room. We crashed together in a tangle of teeth and claws and blind rage, and all I wanted was to rip out his throat for touching what was mine.

"Stop! Dominic, stop it!"

I shifted back to human form, breathing hard, blood dripping from a gash on my shoulder where he'd caught me. The other Alpha was already back in human form too, looking more annoyed than injured.

Jasmine stepped between us. Her back to me. Protecting him.

"You're making a scene," she said, and her voice was cold in a way I'd never heard before. "We're not exactly a good match, Dominic. I thought you'd figure it out eventually."

"We're fated mates." My voice came out raw.

She laughed, and it cut worse than any claw ever could. "You actually believed that? Dominic, you're a nice distraction, but let's be realistic. I'm an Alpha's daughter. You're an orphan with no pack, no prospects, no future. You really thought I'd actually end up with someone like you?"

The other male reached for his wallet with lazy confidence and tossed a stack of bills onto the floor between us. "For the flowers," he said, tone mocking. "And your trouble. You clearly can't afford to waste money on things like this."

I stared at the money, then at Jasmine, waiting for her to say something, to tell him to stop, to show even a flicker of the girl I'd thought I knew.

She walked over to the roses I'd dropped when I shifted. Without bending down, she pressed her heel into them, grinding the white petals into the carpet until they were nothing but pulp. Then she looked up at me, her face stone. "The charade ends here."

"I, Jasmine of Silverpine, reject you, Dominic, as my mate."

The bond snapped.

My wolf howled inside me—a sound of pure agony that tore through every cell in my body, shredding something vital that I knew would never fully heal. It hurt worse than any punch I'd ever taken.

Afterward, my wolf had been a wreck, barely responding to commands, barely functioning at all. But I'd forced myself back into the ring anyway, taking every fight offered no matter how dangerous, not caring about the odds or the opponent's reputation.

All I cared about was those few minutes—fists crashing, blood flooding my throat, my consciousness splintering—when I could stop thinking about her.

Two weeks later, I went up against someone twice my size. Before I hit the mat, I thought it was all over.

But fate has a way of twisting things. That ER blood test—it took me from a nameless nobody to the Alpha King's son, the one he'd lost years ago.

A phone rang, jerking me back to the present. Jasmine fumbled in her purse with clumsy fingers, nearly dropping the phone twice before she managed to answer.

"Hello?" Her voice was thick with sleep and alcohol.

"Jasmine?" A male voice, smooth and concerned, and the car was quiet enough that I could hear every word. "Did you get home okay?"

"Almost," Jasmine mumbled, eyes still closed.

"I worry about you walking alone this late at night," he said. "The Borderlands aren't safe."

"I'm fine. Really."

There was a pause, and when he spoke again his voice had dropped lower, more intimate. "If you need anything—money—you know you can ask me, right? I want to help you."

"Mmm." Jasmine's breathing was already slowing again. "Thank you. Elijah. For everything. You've always... taken care of..."

The car pulled up to a building that should've been condemned. Cracked windows. Peeling paint. Graffiti.

"Get out," I said.

Jasmine's eyes opened properly for the first time since she'd gotten in the car. She looked around, then reached for the door handle with unsteady hands.

She stumbled out onto the sidewalk and disappeared into the building without looking back, probably already forgetting this ride had ever happened.

I leaned back against the leather seat as the car pulled away, and that phone call played through my mind on repeat. The male voice offering money. Her grateful, intimate tone. The easy familiarity between them.

Any trace of sympathy I'd felt for her situation vanished in that instant.

Six years, I thought coldly, and she hasn't changed at all.

Still the same. Still selling herself to whoever could pay, whoever could give her what she needed. My wolf snarled in protest somewhere deep inside, but I crushed the sound before it could fully form.

I knew exactly what Jasmine was.

And this time, I was going to make sure she remembered what she'd thrown away.