Melanie's POV
My steps stopped dead.
My eyes were fixed on the moment Camille hurriedly got off Archer's lap.
Frost suddenly let out a piercing wail in my mind.
The mating bond, which should have been intertwined with Archer, felt like it was being brutally severed by a dull knife.
A sharp pain shot through my veins, racing to my limbs.
I gripped the tray tightly. My knuckles were white, but I couldn't stop my fingers from shaking. Half the coffee sloshed over the rim, splashing onto the web of my hand.
The heat made me instinctively flinch. The tray crashed to the floor with a clatter.
The coffee cups shattered. The brown liquid seeped into the floor cracks, mirroring my fragmented emotions.
Archer's expression was terribly dark. A low growl rumbled in his throat. His golden-brow
