“But no.” He drains the glass in one long swallow. “You had to fight. Had to resist. Had to make everything so unnecessarily complicated.”
He hurls the glass against the wall.
It shatters. Shards explode across the floor, glittering like deadly stars.
Zane crouches to pick up one of the larger pieces. It’s shaped like a blade, wickedly sharp, with edges that shine in the lamplight. He examines it thoughtfully, turning it this way and that.
Then, he walks toward me.
Every instinct I have screams at me to run. To fight. To do something. But my body won’t move. Won’t respond. I’m frozen, trapped, helpless.
He stops directly in front of me. Close enough that I can smell the wine on his breath, see the cold fury in his eyes.
“You humiliated me, Selene.” His voice drops, low and dangerous now. “Made me look weak in front of my master. Made me grovel and beg for another chance.”
He raises the shard of glass.
“I had to woo you.” The words drip with contempt. “Pretend you mattered. Pretend I gave a damn about what you thought or felt or wanted. Do you have any idea how pathetic that was?”
The glass slices acrossmy cheek.
Pain.
White-hot. Immediate. Real.
It cuts through the fog like lightning through clouds. The numbness cracks—just a hairline fracture, but it’s there. It’s real.
Blood runs down my face, warm and wet. The sting is sharp, grounding, pulling me back into my body, inch by inch.
My wolf snarls.
Not a distant whisper this time. Not a weak echo. A real, furious, defiant snarl that reverberates through every cell of my being.
Fight! she roars. Fight, Selene! Now! While the chains are weakening!
I reach for her. Claw toward that presence with everything I have. It’s like trying to swim through cement, but the pain gives me something to hold on to. An anchor. A lifeline.
“All that effort,” Zane continues, pacing now, the glass shard still in his hand. Blood—my blood—drips from its edge. “Playing the gentleman. Bringing you flowers. Smiling like I actually enjoyed your company. It made me sick.”
Another crack in the fog. I can feel my fingers now. Just barely. A tingling sensation, like feeling returning to a limb that was asleep.
“But my master has been working so hard to get you back under control.” Zane stops pacing, turning to face me again. “And look at you now. Perfect. Obedient. Exactly what we need you to be.”
My wolf pushes harder. I push with her. Together, we strain against the invisible chains. Pulling once. Twice. Again and again.
Something gives. Just a fraction. Just enough.
I feel it then. Sudden and overwhelming.
The mate bond.
It engulfs me like a tidal wave. Seth’s presence floods our connection—his fear, his fury, his desperate, frantic determination. He’s moving. Running. Coming for me.
And he’s close.
The realization jolts through me with another surge of adrenaline. The fog recedes further. I can feel my toes now. My legs. The rapid hammering of my own heart.
Keep fighting, my wolf urges. We’re almost there!
