Chapter 2

Sloane POV

Finn tried to pull Amber into the crushing weight of the crowd, but the blonde Warrior dug her heels in. She wasn't done with me.

Amber looked me up and down, her eyes tracking over my body with the assessing, merciless gaze of a predator sizing up a wounded deer. "It's fascinating," she purred, her voice cutting through the heavy bass. "No scent, no wolf, yet you've got his tied in knots. I wonder what a real she-wolf could do to him."

Before I could even process the insult, she stepped closer, her spicy tuberose scent suffocating me. "I bet he's never even seen you shift out of those library clothes. I'd like to."

Blood rushed to my face, burning my cheeks. It was a dual strike-an attack on my femininity and a brutal reminder of my biological defect. I looked at Finn, silently begging him to say something, to defend me. But he just stood there, his brow furrowed in awkward silence, refusing to meet my eyes.

I couldn't breathe. I grabbed my small clutch bag from the bar top, but in my panic to escape, I left it sitting there. Shoving past the sweaty bodies, I fled to the bathroom, locking myself in a cramped stall. The air smelled of cheap air freshener and vomit, but it was the only place I could hide.

Ten minutes later, I forced myself to walk back out. I wouldn't let them break me. But when I reached the dance floor, Finn and Amber were gone.

A cold panic gripped my chest. I rushed out the back exit into the freezing alleyway. The neon sign of Obsidian cast a blood-red glow over the wet pavement. There, standing by my sensible sedan, were Finn and Amber. Finn was fumbling with my small clutch bag, my keys jingling in his hand as he tried to unlock the driver's door.

"What are you doing?" I demanded, my voice shaking. "That's my bag."

Finn flinched, a flash of guilt crossing his features. But Amber just leaned against the car, looking me over with pure disdain. "Run along and call a ride-share, little pup," she sneered. "The grown wolves are leaving."

Little pup.

The words ignited a spark of pure, unadulterated rage in my chest. It wasn't just an insult about my size; it was a mockery of my very existence, a reminder that I didn't even qualify as a complete wolf.

I marched forward, snatched the bag and keys right out of Finn's hand, and glared at them with a coldness I didn't know I possessed. "Get in the back," I commanded. "Both of you."

Finn opened his mouth to argue, but something in my tone made him snap his jaw shut. They climbed into the backseat.

The drive was a nightmare. My small, safe sanctuary-which usually smelled of old books and soap-was instantly polluted by the heavy, intoxicating scent of their lust and alcohol. In the rearview mirror, I could see them tangled together, their low pants and wet kisses scraping against my raw nerves.

Amber wasn't satisfied with just having him. She wanted to destroy me.

She pulled back slightly, her lips brushing Finn's ear, but her voice was loud enough to fill the small cabin. "You can smell the desperation on her, can't you, Finn? A decade of pathetic, wolfless pining. She follows you around like a stray, hoping for a scrap from the Alpha's brother's table."

Finn stiffened. "Amber, stop," he muttered.

But it was too late. The secret I had guarded for ten years was laid bare, ugly and pathetic in the dim light of the streetlamps.

My heart shattered, but the tears didn't fall. Instead, a terrifying numbness washed over me. I slammed my foot on the brake. The tires shrieked against the asphalt as the car jerked to a violent halt on the empty street.

I turned around, my voice trembling with a rage that felt almost lethal. "Get. Out."

I left them standing on the cold curb, two discarded dolls in my rearview mirror, and drove away. That night, my friendship with Finn Crawford died.

Almost a week passed. I ignored his calls and the phantom pressure of a Mind-Link I couldn't even receive. I retreated to my human workplace, finding solace in the sterile smell of carpet cleaner and ozone.

Until Tuesday.

Finn's massive frame suddenly loomed over my cubicle. His aggressive, chaotic scent instantly shattered the mundane peace of the office. Over the partition, I could see Jenna and Carla staring, their eyes wide with gossip.

"Why are you ignoring me?" Finn demanded, completely oblivious to the scene he was causing.

"Leave, Finn," I said coldly, not looking up from my monitor.

He scoffed, leaning his hands on my desk. "Is it... that time of the month or something?"

I froze. He had just reduced the agonizing tearing of my soul to a human menstrual cycle. It was the ultimate invalidation.

Before I could unleash the venom boiling on my tongue, Finn pulled a piece of glossy paper from his jacket and dropped it onto my keyboard. It was a plane ticket.

"We need to talk. Be there," he ordered, turning on his heel and striding out of the office.

I stared at the ticket, my blood turning to ice. The destination was an airport outside the Crimson Fang Pack territory. Why would he want me to go there? The sheer audacity of his demand sent a fresh wave of fury through my veins. I grabbed the ticket, shoved my chair back, and marched toward the parking lot to give him a piece of my mind.