I’ve already placed three others, one near Ronan’s office, one in the east wing corridor where his “private training” takes place, and one overlooking the back entrance Candice uses when she thinks no one is watching.
By the time I return to the celebration, my absence has been noted. Ronan’s eyes track me across the room, narrowed slightly in suspicion. I offer him a shy smile, playing my part.
The evening wears on, a carefully orchestrated dance of politics and pretense. I perform flawlessly, saying little, observing much, gathering threads that will eventually form the noose for those who betrayed me.
Then it happens.
The pain hits without warning, a white-hot knife between my ribs, twisting savagely. My breath locks in my throat, my body going rigid as fire races through the mate bond. The champagne flute slips from my suddenly numb fingers, shattering on the marble floor.
He’s with her,my wolf snarls, thrashing against my control.RIGHT NOW.
I press my hand to my chest, feeling my heart hammering wildly beneath my palm. The pain radiates outward, stealing my breath, turning my vision hazy at the edges. Every instinct screams for me to find him, to stop whatever is happening.
No,I force myself to think through the agony.This is information. Use it.
I straighten my spine through sheer will, forcing air into my lungs one shallow breath at a time. Around me, concerned murmurs rise as pack members notice my distress.
“Are you all right, Miss Selena?”
“Someone get her some water!”
“Where’s Ronan?”
Where indeed.
I scan the room through the haze of pain. Ronan is gone. And so is Candice.
Control,my wolf urges, her ancient wisdom steadying me.Pain is temporary. Revenge is forever.
I take one step, then another, moving not toward the exit where my mate has disappeared, but across the room to where Rylan stands watching me, his expression darkening as he reads my distress.
By the time I reach him, my legs are trembling, the bond pain slicing deeper with every breath. He moves forward immediately, catching my elbow to steady me.
“Selena,” he says, his voice low and urgent. “What’s happening?”
“The bond,” I manage through clenched teeth, unable to elaborate further.
Understanding dawns in his eyes, followed by a flash of rage so fierce it momentarily transforms his features. His hand slides from my elbow to my waist, supporting more of my weight, and the moment hisskin touches mine, the pain... shifts. Doesn’t disappear, but changes somehow, becoming more manageable.
I look up at him, startled. “How…“
“Not here,” he murmurs, his eyes scanning the room. “Too many eyes.”
With practiced efficiency, he guides me toward the exit, his body angled to shield me from curious onlookers. “I’m taking her to Dr. Merrick,” he announces to those nearby, his tone brooking no argument.
The walk to the pack doctor’s office is a blur of pain and Rylan’s steady presence. His hand never leaves my waist, that strange relief flowing from his touch keeping me upright and moving.
Dr. Merrick looks up from his desk as we enter, his expression shifting quickly from annoyance to concern. “What happened?”
Dr. Merrick guides me to the examination table, his fingers pressing gently against my wrist to check my pulse. His eyes widen slightly at whatever he finds there. He reaches for a small amber bottle on a high shelf, then hesitates, glancing at Rylan before turning back to me.
“These are for mates who’ve been... betrayed,” he says, voice dropping to barely above a whisper.
The shadow in the doorway falls across the floor. Ronan…
8
Rylan’s POV
