Chapter 3

Elfrieda POV:

A week passed. The silver poison had cleared from my blood, but the ugly, jagged scar on my forearm remained. It would take months to fade completely, a permanent reminder of the night my mate chose another.

I was staying at my parents' estate on the edge of the city. I hadn't turned on my phone. I hadn't checked the news.

Then, Jaxon showed up.

I heard the commotion downstairs. The deep rumble of an engine, the slamming of a car door.

"You are not welcome here, Alpha Tate," Jamil's voice carried from the porch.

"She is my fiancée, Jamil. Move aside." Jaxon's voice was arrogant, laced with the command that usually made wolves cower.

But Jamil didn't move.

I walked out onto the balcony. Jaxon stood in the driveway holding a massive bouquet of white lilies. Lilies. The flower of funerals. He didn't even know.

He looked up and saw me. "Elfrieda. Thank the Moon. I've been so worried."

"Worried?" I called down. My voice was cold. "Is that why you left me bleeding on the floor to carry a woman who wasn't even scratched?"

Jaxon shifted uncomfortably. "Janice... she has a delicate constitution. She was in shock. I knew the medics would get to you. You're strong, Elfrieda. You always have been."

Strong. That was the excuse men used when they wanted to neglect you.

"Go away, Jaxon."

"Stop being dramatic," he snapped, his patience fraying. "The wedding is in five days. The press is asking questions. I need you to issue a statement saying it was a misunderstanding."

His phone rang. He looked at it, and his expression instantly softened.

"Janice? What's wrong?" He listened, his face paling. "Your ankle? Is it swelling? Okay, okay, don't move. I'm coming."

He hung up and looked at me, pointing a finger. "We will finish this later. Janice fell down the stairs. I have to go."

He threw the flowers on the ground and got back into his car, speeding away.

I stared at the crushed lilies. Something inside me snapped. Not in anger, but in cold resolution.

I went back inside, grabbed my keys, and followed him.

I tracked his scent. It led to a luxury apartment complex in the downtown district-a neutral zone where pack laws were less strictly enforced.

I parked down the street and walked. I could smell it before I even reached the building. Cheap, cloying perfume. Vanilla and synthetic musk. It was disgusting to a wolf's nose.

I found the ground-floor apartment. The curtains were drawn, but not fully.

I stood in the shadows of the alley, peering through the gap.

Jaxon was sitting on the sofa. Janice was on his lap. There was no ice pack on her ankle. She was straddling him, kissing his neck.

"She's so boring, Jax," Janice giggled. I could hear them clearly through the glass. "Holding her is like holding a piece of wood. No wolf. No fire."

"I know," Jaxon groaned, burying his face in her hair. "But the list... I just need to sign the papers. Then she can stay in the guest wing and rot for all I care."

Janice looked up. Her eyes locked directly onto the gap in the curtains. She saw me.

She smiled. It was a predator's smile.

She leaned in and kissed Jaxon deeply, making a show of it. She released her scent-a chemically altered pheromone designed to mimic a mate's heat. It was fake, but it worked on Jaxon.

My wolf whimpered. It was a sound of pure heartbreak. To see your mate rejecting you is one thing; to see him mocking the bond with an imposter was torture.

I turned away. I walked back to my car, my legs feeling like lead.

My phone buzzed in my pocket. I had turned it on to use the GPS.

A notification from Instagram. Janice_Tate_Official requested to follow you.

Then a direct message.

Meet me at The Grind Café in the Neutral Zone. 2 PM. Unless you're too scared, little Omega.

I gripped the steering wheel until the leather creaked. She wanted to gloat. She wanted to rub my face in the dirt.

I checked my reflection in the rearview mirror. My eyes were red, my skin pale. But my jaw was set.

I wasn't an Omega. I wasn't just a violin player.

I typed back: I'll be there.