Chapter 3
He stopped, gaze locking on the shards in my hand.
For once, he fell silent.
My shoulders trembled.
“You know what this is,” I said, voice thick. “It’s my mother’s heirloom.”
Atticus turned his head away. “Anya didn’t mean it,” he said coldly. “Besides, your mother left you plenty. You won’t miss one.”
The naked favoritism burned straight through my chest.
I bit down hard. “If she’d smashed something of your father’s today, would you be this generous?”
The slap hit so hard heat exploded under my skin.
Atticus’s jaw worked. Disgust flooded his eyes. “You have the nerve to bring up my father? If not for you, he’d still be alive.”
Five years ago, Alpha Dorian had a heart attack.
The house staff were off that day, and I was away as well.
Before we mated, I promised Atticus I would look after his father.
In that hour, I failed.
ミミ
The failure lodged like a thorn between us and drove us further apart.
Seeing Atticus plant himself at her side, Anya puffed up behind his shadow.
“Luna,Alpha is Nightfall’s heir. How dare you contradict him in public?”
She gave a frosty little laugh and flicked her fingers. ”
The warriors moved at once.
Auto–added to the Library
ing she owns.”
Bottle after bottle of distilled extract burst on the floor; glassware shattered into glittering scraps.
I lunged, screaming, but Atticus pinned me, hard as iron.
“Now you’re sorry? Where was that an hour ago?”
I looked at the wreckage, hollowed out from the inside.
Those tools had been passed down through generations.
They were the last of my roots. Now they were gone.
And Anya still wasn’t satisfied,
She lifted my incense grimoire, challenge bright in her eyes.
My knees hit the floor. I bowed until my forehead split.
“No… please don’t.”
It was the last thing I had.
She only arched a brow and tossed the book into the fire.
Flame licked. I tore free and threw myself into the blaze.
“Seraphina, are you insane!”
Chapter 3
Color drained from Atticus’s face; panic flashed in his eyes.
Not until I staggered out clutching a few charred pages, hands blistered and bleeding, did he let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.
I cradled the singed leaves and sobbed until I could not breathe.
Satisfied, Anya turned and left.
Atticus dropped a box of burn ointment beside me, his expression set like stone.
“I’ll replace this stuff for you. Don’t take it out on Anya.”
He reached to brush ash from my cheek. I turned away, cold as glass.
“Ungrateful,” he muttered, and walked out.
I curled in the corner with the last of my pages and stared at the ceiling until the phone shattered the quiet.
“Ms. Lark, interested in a deal?”
A familiar voice. Liam Carter, Alpha of Thornclaw Pack–the rival Atticus hated most.
I stared into nothing and forced my mouth to work.
“Fine. But you’ll do something for me first.”
If Atticus could be this merciless, I had nothing left to hold me.
Liam listened and agreed without a second thought.
I ended the call and buried my face in my arms.
Tears soaked my sleeves.
After a long time, I dried my eyes, went to the master bedroom, and knocked.
Laughter on the other side cut off.
The door opened. Atticus leaned on the frame, shirt askew. “What?” he asked, flat and cold.
I held out the last of the Moonbinding incense balm. “I won’t make incense anymore,” I said, flat. “This is the last-
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Anya’s voice knifed in, high and sharp, finger stabbing at the tray. “That’s the one! I had it tested. There’s a slow–acting toxin in it–it hooks you and kills you by inches!”
Fury blew through Atticus.
He knocked the tray from my hands.
The balm splattered across the floor; he ground it under his heel.
His eyes held nothing but loathing
