The Alpha's Shattered Bond: His secret Lycan Heir

003

Diary of a Girl Who Just Plugged Her Soul Into a Wall Socket

~VINA HALE~

If I were a computer, I’d be displaying the Blue Screen of Death. My internal fans are whirring, there’s smoke coming out of my ears, and I think I’ve forgotten how to perform basic human functions like inhaling.

It happened in a heartbeat.

One second, I was just Vina the Invisible, standing by a dusty pillar with a tray of half-eaten shrimp puffs. The next, a shockwave of heat hit me so hard I thought the kitchen had literally exploded.

But it wasn't the kitchen. It was me.

Remember how I said I smelled like a beige wall? Well, apparently the wall just got a fresh coat of "Nuclear Jasmine" and "Honey From the Heavens." My scent didn't just leak out; it detonated. It was sweet, heavy, and so cloying it made my own head spin.

And then there was the pull.

It felt like a literal iron hook had been slammed into my sternum, and Jace Blackwood was holding the other end of the chain.

The Great Hall, which had been buzzing with the sound of five hundred wealthy werewolves, went so quiet you could hear a snowflake hit the window. The crowd didn't just move; they scrambled out of the way like Moses was parting the Red Sea, and Jace was the tidal wave coming through.

He wasn't walking. He was stalking. His suit jacket was straining against his shoulders, his hands were clenched into fists, and those molten-gold eyes were locked onto mine with the kind of intensity that usually precedes a natural disaster.

Dusty, my inner wolf, wasn't just howling anymore. She was doing backflips. She was throwing a rave. She was screaming, ‘HE’S HERE! THE BIG SCARY SHINY ONE IS OURS!’

Jace reached me in three seconds. He didn't stop until he was so close I could feel the heat radiating off his chest like a furnace. He smelled like rain and woodsmoke, and it was the most addictive thing I’d ever experienced. My skin felt like it was being electrified everywhere our auras touched.

He reached out, his large, calloused hand cupping the back of my neck. He pulled me forward, burying his face in the crook of my shoulder, and took a breath so deep it sounded like he was trying to swallow my very soul.

“Mine,” he growled.

The word vibrated through my entire body. It was low, possessive, and absolutely terrifying. A faint, golden shimmer—the actual, legendary light of a True Fated Match—pulsed between us, illuminating my crappy gray tunic and his designer suit.

For one glorious, delusional second, I thought: This is it. The Cinderella moment. The maid becomes the Queen. Sarah can go suck an egg.

I looked up, ready to see love or relief in his eyes.

But then I saw the rest of the room.

Alpha Magnus looked like he was about to have a literal stroke. His face was a shade of purple I didn’t know humans could achieve. And Sarah? Sarah looked like she wanted to un-alive me with her mind. The silence in the room wasn't "happy-awesome-wow" silence. It was "oh-crap-the-world-is-ending" silence.

Jace felt it too. I felt the exact moment his heart rate slowed down and his brain turned back on.

The golden glow in his eyes didn't just fade; it flickered and died, replaced by a cold, stormy gray. He pulled back, his hand dropping from my neck as if my skin had suddenly turned into hot lava. He looked at my messy hair, my stained tunic, and my rankless, "worthless" aura.

He didn't look like a man who had found his soulmate. He looked like a man who had just realized he’d stepped in something disgusting.

The "Alpha" mask slammed back onto his face—hard, cold, and utterly unreachable.

Before I could even whisper his name, his hand shot out, grabbing my upper arm in a grip so tight I knew it would leave a bruise by morning. He leaned down, his lips brushing my ear, but there was no heat this time. Only ice.

“Don’t say a word,” he hissed, his voice a jagged blade that sliced my hope into ribbons. “This is a mistake, Vina. A cruel, cosmic joke.”

He didn't let go of my arm. He started dragging me toward the side exit, away from the eyes of the pack, like I was a piece of trash he needed to hide before the guests noticed the smell.

If the Moon Goddess ever offers you a "True Fated Match," tell her to keep it. It hurts a lot less to be invisible than it does to be a mistake