Lucas did not return to his pack as a leader.
He returned as a wound.
The moment the territory gates slammed shut behind him, the bond screamed again—raw, frayed, poisoned by rejection. Aria’s presence was still there, distant but burning, no longer bending toward him. The realization hollowed him out.
She had chosen.
And not him.
Lucas tore his office apart.
Glass shattered. Stone cracked. His claws dug into the obsidian desk until it splintered under his hands. The she-wolf he had used earlier stood frozen in the doorway, eyes wide with fear.
“Get out,” he snarled.
She fled.
Lucas staggered back, gripping his chest as the matebond throbbed—angry now, corrupted. Bonds were not meant to be denied. They were not meant to be shared.
And yet—
Adrian.
Dominic.
Their scents clung t
