Chapter 7
Alaric Thorne POV:
Ryker led Jessa away from the main ballroom, but after a few moments, he returned, alone. His face was a mask of frustration as he pushed through a set of glass doors onto a secluded garden terrace.
I melted into the shadows of the corridor, my movements silent, my presence erased. A king's greatest weapon is not always his strength, but his ability to observe unseen. I followed him onto the terrace, concealing myself behind a thick hedge of night-blooming jasmine.
Ryker paced the stone tiles, his agitation palpable. He was using the mind-link. Normally, such a connection is a silent, private conversation. But when a wolf's emotions run high, their control slips. Fragments of the conversation can 'bleed' out, faint whispers on the psychic winds, audible only to a sufficiently powerful Alpha.
I focused, extending my senses, and caught the psychic echo of Jessa's voice, sharp and furious.
"Why don't you just get rid of her? That pathetic Omega! What right does she have to stand at your side?"
Ryker's mental voice was a low placating murmur. "Jessa, be patient. The timing isn't right. The alliance with her pack is still too important..."
"I don't care about the alliance!" Jessa's thoughts were practically a shriek. "I warned her tonight. I told her to initiate the rejection ceremony. If she doesn't, I swear I'll..."
"I will handle it," Ryker interrupted, his thought projecting a false sense of command. "I promise you. Soon, Jessa, you will be my Luna. It's only you I love."
It's only you I love.
The words detonated in my mind. The infidelity I had suspected was now laid bare in all its rotten, scheming glory. This was not mere neglect or a wandering heart; this was an active conspiracy to destroy a fated bond. The betrayal was absolute, the deception profound. Ryker was not just a faithless mate; he was a traitor plotting against the very soul the Moon Goddess had destined for him.
The cold fury I had felt at the Gala sharpened into something lethal. He was not just unworthy of his rank; he was a threat to what was mine. Any lingering respect I held for him as a warrior evaporated. In its place was a cold, murderous contempt. Betraying a fated mate was the highest form of blasphemy. It was an unforgivable sin.
Ryker concluded the link, his shoulders slumping for a moment before he straightened them, schooling his features back into a neutral mask. He turned and walked back into the ballroom, utterly oblivious to my presence.
I remained in the shadows, my molten gold eyes burning like embers in the dark.
Meanwhile, in her cold, lonely apartment, Elara had collapsed. The words Jessa had spat at her in the ballroom played on a cruel, endless loop in her mind.
"You should be smart and leave him. You're not worthy of him. You're dragging him down. Reject him. It's the only decent thing you can do."
"He only touched you that one time because his mother forced him, didn't he? A duty fuck for an unmarked Omega. You're a joke."
The words were knives, twisting in wounds she hadn't known were so deep. All this time, she had blamed herself. She wasn't strong enough, not pretty enough, not enough.
Now, the devastating truth settled in. It was never about her. Ryker's heart had been given away long before she ever entered the picture. She remembered the way he had looked at Jessa, the fierce, protective tenderness in his eyes.
He was not incapable of love. He was just incapable of loving her.
The realization was more painful than any insult. It was the death of a dream she hadn't even realized she was still holding onto. She curled into a ball on the sofa, a hollowed-out shell of a she-wolf.
Rejection ceremony. The words, once unthinkable, now echoed in her mind with a grim, seductive logic. Perhaps Jessa was right. Perhaps letting go was the only path to peace.
Back on the terrace, I finally moved. I didn't return to the gala. I went to my study.
I needed a plan. I would not allow a man like Ryker Blackwood to serve as my Gamma. And I would not stand by and watch as the Omega who carried the scent of my soul was utterly destroyed.
I stood at my window, staring in the direction of her apartment, and a dangerous, unyielding resolve hardened within me.
The board was set. The players were in position. And I was about to make my first move.
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