Chapter 4

Eliana POV

The house was unnervingly quiet when I entered. The din of the dinner party must have moved to the formal lounge, leaving the hallway wrapped in silence.

I slipped into the study. This room was where I spent most of my nights while Dustin was "working late."

I went straight to the mahogany bookshelf, my fingers trembling slightly. I was looking for the leather-bound manuscript of the Pack's history. It wasn't just a book; it was a relic I had spent two years restoring by hand. On the inside cover, I had painstakingly sketched the ancient totem of the White Wolf, adding my own energy signature to protect the house.

It wasn't there.

Panic, cold and sharp, spiked in my chest. I began pulling books off the shelves, disregarding the order I had meticulously kept.

"Where is it? Where is it?"

"Looking for this?"

I spun around.

Dustin stood in the doorway, his tuxedo jacket discarded, tie loosened. Jami was behind him, holding a glass of wine loosely in one hand.

And in her other hand, she dangled the manuscript.

My *Inner Wolf* snarled, clawing at the surface of my mind. I could smell the ancient ink, but underneath it... nail polish remover?

"Give it to me," I said, my voice trembling.

"What's so special about this dusty old thing?" Jami giggled, swaying slightly. She was drunk, her eyes glassy. "I found it in the trash pile. I thought I'd use the pages for a collage. You know, 'out with the old, in with the new'."

"Trash pile?" I looked at Dustin, horror dawning on me. "You threw it away?"

"It was clutter, Eliana," Dustin said, rubbing his temples dismissively. "Jami is redecorating. Stop being hysterical."

"That manuscript is three hundred years old!" I stepped forward, my hands balling into fists. "Jami, hand it over."

"Oops," Jami said. She opened her hand.

The book fell.

It hit the floor with a heavy, sickening thud. The binding cracked-a sound like a breaking bone.

But that wasn't enough. Jami "stumbled," her heel coming down hard on the open pages, ripping the delicate paper right where my drawing was.

Something inside me shattered.

I didn't think. I didn't plan. My body moved before my mind could catch up.

My fingernails elongated into claws. I wasn't a Luna anymore; I was a wild animal protecting its young. I collided with Jami, my hand raking across her cheek.

"Aaaah!" Jami screamed, dropping her wine glass as it shattered against the floorboards.

"Eliana!" Dustin roared.

The air solidified. *Alpha's Command.*

He grabbed me by the back of my neck and threw me.

I flew across the room. My back hit the edge of the heavy oak desk with brutal force. I heard a crack-a rib, maybe two. I slid to the floor, gasping for air, the taste of copper filling my mouth.

Dustin stood over Jami, checking her scratch. It was superficial. But when he turned to me, he looked at me with pure hatred.

"You attacked a pregnant woman," he growled, his eyes glowing a menacing red. "You are unstable."

I coughed, spitting blood onto the expensive Persian rug. Pain radiated from my chest, white-hot and blinding, but my mind was crystal clear.

The *Mate Bond* was pulsing, trying to heal me, trying to make me submit to my Alpha.

No.

I wiped my mouth. I used the desk to pull myself up. I stood on shaking legs, swaying, but upright.

"Dustin Powell," I rasped.

He looked at me, his lip curled in disgust. "What? Going to apologize?"

I looked him dead in the eye. I summoned every ounce of magic in my blood, every whisper of the White Wolf dormant within me.

"I, Eliana David," I said, my voice gaining a supernatural resonance that vibrated the books on the shelves, "reject you, Dustin Powell, as my Mate."

The silence that followed was absolute.

Then, the scream began.

It wasn't me.

Dustin doubled over, clutching his chest as if he'd been shot. The golden thread that connected our souls snapped with the violence of a whip crack.

I felt a sudden, sharp pain, like a limb being severed, a blinding agony that flashed once and then... nothing.

Just glorious, empty silence.

Dustin fell to his knees, howling in agony, his wolf mourning the death of its other half.

I stood there, bleeding, broken, and completely free.