Chapter 5 No.5

Kaden POV

The glass in my hand turned to dust.

Shards of crystal bit into my palm, drawing blood that healed almost instantly, but the physical sting was nothing compared to the inferno raging in my chest.

Alpha... you need to see this.

Jared's voice in my head had been tentative, fearful. Now I knew why.

I stood on the iron balcony overlooking the Grand Hall, my knuckles white as I gripped the railing. Below me, the sea of guests had parted, creating a wide circle around a couple gliding across the obsidian floor.

It wasn't a ghost. It wasn't the broken, weeping wretch my mother had described to me just this morning.

It was a goddess bathed in blood.

Aline.

She was wearing red. Not just any red, but a deep, violent crimson that clung to her frame like a second skin. The silk slit high up her thigh, exposing legs I hadn't touched in years. Her hair was swept up, revealing the graceful curve of her neck-the neck I had refused to mark, now bared for another Alpha to stare at.

And he was staring.

Deric Sullivan held her as if she were made of spun glass. His hand rested on the small of her back-my mate's back. His scent, a cloying mix of sandalwood and ocean salt, was drifting up to the balcony, mingling with hers. It was a desecration.

MINE!

My wolf slammed against my ribcage, clawing to get out, to tear Sullivan's throat out with his teeth. The command had ripped from my throat before I could stop it, silencing the music, silencing the room.

But she didn't cower. She looked up.

Her eyes met mine. There was no love in them. No desperate plea for my affection. There was only a cold, hollow defiance.

"Rosalind lied," I snarled under my breath. My mother had told me Aline was on a hunger strike, rotting in her room, waiting for me to beg for forgiveness. But the woman down there wasn't rotting. She was burning bright enough to blind me.

I turned from the railing, my cape swirling around me like a storm cloud. "Jared, clear a path. Now."

I didn't wait for an answer. I marched toward the grand staircase, intent on dragging her out of that hall and locking her away until she remembered who she belonged to.

"Kaden!"

A soft hand caught my arm just as I reached the top of the stairs. Cori Mullins appeared, looking up at me with wide, doe-like eyes. She was dressed in silver, shimmering and delicate, the perfect contrast to the aggressive red stain on the dance floor.

"Darling, please," she whispered, her voice dripping with concern. She stepped into my space, her fingers stroking the tension in my bicep. "Don't let her ruin your night. Look at her... parading herself around like that. She's just doing this for attention. She wants you to make a scene."

My jaw clenched. Cori's touch was soothing, a balm on a burn, but my eyes kept darting back to the dance floor below.

"She is dancing with Sullivan," I growled, the words tasting like bile.

"Because she knows it hurts you," Cori cooed, linking her arm through mine. "Don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you lose control. Show her she doesn't matter."

Her logic was sound, twisting into my brain and cooling the red haze just enough for me to think. If I dragged Aline out screaming, I would look like a tyrant. If I ignored her... I would look like a King.

"Fine," I muttered. I placed my hand over Cori's on my arm, a silent claim. "Let's go."

We descended the staircase together. The crowd watched us, their gazes darting between me and the couple in the center of the room. Every step felt like walking on hot coals.

I reached the bottom floor, my eyes locking onto Aline again. She was spinning now, the red silk flaring out. Deric leaned in, whispering something in her ear.

And then, she did the unforgivable.

She laughed.

It wasn't a polite, courtly titter. It was a genuine smile that lit up her face, erasing the gaunt shadows of her cheeks. It was a smile I hadn't seen in three years. A smile she had never given me since the day I rejected our bond in all but words.

The sight of it felt like a silver dagger twisting in my gut.

She was happy. In his arms. In my house.

The air around me crackled with ozone. The floorboards beneath my boots creaked under the pressure of my aura.

Cori sensed my control slipping. She leaned in close, her lips brushing my ear, her voice a poisonous caress.

"Look how she smiles for him, Kaden. A real smile," she murmured, her tone laced with a pity that made me want to kill something. "It's as if... as if his presence is healing the very soul you thought was broken."

The tether on my sanity snapped.

Healing her? No. He was stealing her. And I would burn this entire pack house to the ground before I let another male enjoy what was fated to be mine.