Third Person POV
The Frostpelt Pack house's living room looked like a warzone. Overturned vases. A wine glass bleeding red across the expensive rug. A photo frame face-down in glass splinters.
Alpha Clive's slap cracked through the air like a whip. Pure Alpha dominance rolled off him in waves, making everyone in the room want to bare their necks.
"I should've had a damn vasectomy," he growled.
Niall touched his burning cheek, his wolf retreating deep into his mind. "Dad, I just—"
"You thought?" Another slap cracked across his face. "You thought wrong, you f*****g i***t. You said Christina was obsessed with you. That she'd marry you even while you screwed half of Highrise City. And now what? She walked away. You couldn't even keep your mate. Moon Goddess, Niall, I can't go
