Chapter 3
The empty beer bottles cluttered the ground, and Chance Edwards, drunk and belligerent, began to boast. "Back when we were all sent to the countryside, I was the one with the most potential. Everyone said I was destined to be an Alpha, to lead a pack of my own!"
It was true. Among the young werewolves sent to the rural territories for training, Chance had stood out. His commanding presence and rugged features made him a favorite among the pack. But what he didn’t know was that the reason he’d been the first to return to the city was because I’d begged my uncle, Joseph Ramos, the respected Gamma of the pack’s training grounds, to give him a position.
Once back in the city, his childhood friend, Saoirse Hoffman, had pursued him relentlessly. As an Omega, she lacked status but had cunning charm, eventually becoming the center of attention in the local pack gatherings. Over time, Chance began taking frequent days off, claiming he was destined for greatness, that he was meant to lead a pack far beyond our own. I tried to reason with him, but he’d always brush me off with a dismissive snarl.
I clung to my love and the hope that he’d mature, but that love had long since worn thin. Through the haze of the dimly lit bar, I saw a group of wolves cheering, with Chance and Saoirse locked in a passionate kiss.
I approached the bartender, a Delta from our pack, and pointed at Chance. "He’s covering my tab."
Without hesitation, I strode up to Chance, breaking their embrace. His face darkened, his Alpha aura flaring. "Have you lost your mind, Tessa?"
Ignoring his tone, I reached into his pocket and pulled out my bank book. My gaze was cold as I looked at him, his eyes still locked on Saoirse. "We’re dissolving the mate bond soon. This is my account, not yours."
I glanced at the table, littered with the remnants of their revelry. "If you want to eat and drink, use your own money."
Chance was left speechless, clearly not expecting me to speak to him with such authority. He yanked me aside, his grip bruising. "I know I’ve wronged you, but aren’t you taking this too far?"
"I won’t dissolve the bond," I said firmly.
Saoirse fell to her knees in front of me, tears streaming down her face. "Tessa, it’s all my fault. I deserve to die, but I truly love Chance." She sobbed dramatically, clutching her stomach. "I’ll stay away from you. This pup shouldn’t even exist! It’s all my fault!"
With a hysterical scream, Saoirse grabbed a beer bottle and aimed it at her own stomach. But I could see the challenge in her eyes, the way the bottle was actually hurtling toward me.
Chance’s eyes turned feral as he rushed to scoop Saoirse protectively into his arms. The sharp sound of shattering glass echoed as I crumpled to the ground, searing pain coiling through my abdomen, forcing me into a fetal position.
I struggled to stand, but Chance kicked me down, his Alpha tone cutting through the air. "Tessa Kelley! You’ve gone too far. Kneel and apologize to Saoirse, or you’re not leaving this spot!"
From a distance, the bartender’s voice wavered. "Alpha, she doesn’t look good. Maybe we should get her to the healer. She’s bleeding..."
Standing beside Saoirse, Zaid Flores, a rogue werewolf and Chance’s lackey, let out a mocking laugh. "It can’t be that bad. Can’t you see Saoirse is terrified?"
He yanked me up, forcing me to kneel before Saoirse. I had no strength to resist and coughed up blood. Chance’s pupils contracted, and for a moment, he looked as if he might step forward. But Saoirse cried out, "Chance, my stomach hurts. Our pup—"
In the last moment before I fainted, I saw Chance, frantic, rushing Saoirse to the healer, leaving me alone on the cold, hard ground.
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