The Severed Bond

POV: Lyra.

I aggressively thrash wildly beneath Kaelen’s heavy, crushing weight. The suffocating, bruising force of his dominating kiss completely cages me against the mattress, leaving me absolutely no room to breathe. I can feel the hard, unrelenting pressure of his thick arousal explicitly grinding directly against my extreme sensitivity, while his massive hand continues to ruthlessly squeeze and knead my bare, exposed breast. My panic and desperation reach an absolute boiling point. I refuse to be claimed like a helpless prize. Operating on pure, feral instinct, I jerk my head just enough to part our lips, and I sink my teeth directly into his bottom lip. I bite him hard—hard enough to instantly draw hot, metallic blood.

He hisses sharply in surprise, his iron grip momentarily faltering. I brutally break free from his dominating kiss, violently shoving both of my hands against his solid chest to scramble frantically off the tangled bedsheets. My heart hammers a chaotic rhythm against my ribs as I hastily dive for my scattered clothes. I snatch up my scandalous dress, aggressively pulling the tight fabric over my head with trembling hands, and violently jamming my aching feet into my towering heels, completely ignoring the burning flush of my own skin.

"Where exactly do you think you are going?" Kaelen demands, his voice a dark, arrogant drawl.

I risk a sharp glance back at him. He is casually swiping his thumb across his wounded mouth. The digit comes away smeared with bright red blood, a single crimson drop dribbling down his sculpted chin. He looks like a dangerous, unhinged predator.

"Home!" I snap fiercely, locating my small clutch on the nightstand and snatching it up.

He scoffs, his silver eyes mockingly tracking my every frantic movement around the sterile hotel room. "What? Are you going to run straight home and tell your father all about our sordid little night?"

The sheer arrogance in his tone makes my blood boil. "Lyra!" Kaelen calls out just as my trembling fingers reach for the heavy door handle in my desperate rush to escape. He casually tosses my forgotten phone onto the center of the bed, his demeanor shifting into a dark, severe warning. "You leave this room, and my inner wolf will personally hunt you down. I guarantee it."

I snatch the phone off the mattress, gripping it so tightly my knuckles turn stark white. I sharply turn on my heel to fully face him. Deep inside my mind, my inner wolf, Zyla, is an utter mess. I actively and violently ignore my own inner wolf’s completely desperate, whimpering protests and her agonizing, begging pleas to stay with our fated mate. I point a trembling but fiercely defiant finger directly at his broad, muscular chest. I force the formal, ancient words past my dry lips, practically spitting them at him.

"I, Lyra Vance, entirely reject you, Alpha Kaelen Voss of the Duskfire pack."

The sacred words hang heavy and suffocating in the sterile hotel air. For a split second, there is absolute silence. Then, Kaelen lets out a completely furious, chest-rattling growl. His massive hand shoots out, violently yanking my wrist to pull my small frame right back against his hard body. At that exact moment, the magical, ethereal tether permanently binding my soul to his violently dissolves. I physically feel the bond painfully snap right down the center of my chest, tearing a jagged hole in my spirit.

But instead of crying out in shared agony, Kaelen only laughs. It is a dark, incredibly sadistic sound that absolutely chills me to the bone. "You will come crawling completely back to me. I will aggressively make sure of it, Lyra. Because I absolutely reject your rejection," he viciously snarls, his iron grip severely bruising the delicate skin of my arm.

"You can't do that! I felt it sever!" I stubbornly insist, fighting wildly against his bruising hold while Zyla’s cries for her mate violently echo in my head.

His silver eyes violently flicker, bleeding out until they are a pitch, demonic black as his colder, infinitely harsher inner wolf violently and forcefully surfaces. He aggressively shoves me backward, caging my small body completely against the heavy wooden door. His muscular arms trap me on either side, his sharp canines slipping out past his parted lips.

"Severed solely for you, not for me," his monstrous wolf deeply growls, his voice heavily vibrating against my skin, completely brushing off my fierce defiance as if it means absolutely nothing. He leans in closer, breathing in my scent. "You have precisely two weeks. After that, I will personally come for you. Don't make me hunt you down, little mate."

Forcefully shoving past his terrifying, possessive threats and completely muting my own wolf's agonizing, begging pleas to submit to his dominance, I duck under his massive arm. I rip the door open and violently slam it entirely shut behind me, running frantically down the long, carpeted hall.

Hours later, the adrenaline crash severely hits me. Sneaking into my family's massive packhouse like a cowardly thief in the dead of the night, I ease the heavy front door shut, praying for silence. I step quietly into the foyer, but I am immediately and violently caught. My massive father, Alpha Bronson, has been angrily waiting in the pitch-dark living room.

"Where were you?" he ferociously demands. The rough, grating sound of his voice instantly spikes my anxiety.

I flinch, rubbing my pounding temples. "Out!" I mutter, attempting to quickly walk past him toward the stairs.

I don't make it two steps. His huge, calloused hand violently seizes my upper arm. With brutal, unforgiving force, he brutally spins me around to face his towering fury. He aggressively leans in and forcefully sniffs my neck, his bruising grip instantly tightening to a painful, suffocating degree.

"Why can I strongly smell a male scent all over you? Who did you spend the night with?" he viciously snaps.

Internally panicking, I rapidly spit out a desperate lie to throw him off the supernatural trail. "Rocco! We went to a club," I blurt out. Dad knows Rocco is my gay, human best friend—the only male he deems entirely non-threatening to his extreme control over me.

But Dad fully knows the overwhelming, musky scent permanently clinging to my skin isn't human. His upper lip curls in absolute disgust. "You're lying. I know Rocco's scent," he deeply growls. His sharp, lethal claws slowly slip out from his fingertips, painfully digging deep into the soft flesh of my trapped arm.

I hiss in sharp pain, trying to yank my arm out of his violent grasp. Thinking quickly through the haze of fear, I rapidly blame the overwhelming male scent on my best friend. "It’s probably someone from the club! I was wearing Bria's borrowed jumper earlier," I lie, silently and desperately praying to the Moon Goddess that he doesn't specifically recognize Alpha Kaelen's unique, identifying scent.

Releasing my throbbing arm with deep, narrow-eyed suspicion, he loudly and aggressively scolds me. "You do not miss pack meetings! You are an Alpha's supposedly dutiful daughter."

"Yet never to be an actual Alpha," I immediately retort with profound, biting bitterness. My anger violently erupts, heavily fueled by my incoming, pounding hangover and my inner wolf's completely howling, suicidal agony from the freshly severed mate bond. "Therefore, absolutely fuck your stupid meetings. Take Jace with you... He is the exact one you proudly chose to take my place. Make him attend and do your damn job for you!"

My sheer disrespect instantly pushes him over the absolute edge. His face contorts with dark fury, and he furiously raises a massive, heavy hand to violently slap me across the face. I don't flinch. I harden my fierce glare, entirely refusing to cower before his abusive wrath.

Just then, before his heavy hand can violently strike my cheek, my Mom quietly walks out of the hallway wrapped in her silk robe, her blonde hair messy from sleep. "Everything alright out here?" she asks softly.

Her gentle presence instantly and entirely defuses the violent, explosive tension in the room. Dad's glowing, furious eyes immediately soften. His sharp claws fully retract back into his fingers, and his tense, massive shoulders visibly drop.

"Everything is completely fine, love," he softly tells her, turning his back to me and entirely masking his previous violent rage with a sickeningly sweet tone.

Mom looks directly at me, profound, unspoken worry deeply etching her tired features. She sees the bloody puncture marks on my arm, but stays completely silent. Dad swiftly shoots me a lethal, silent glare over his shoulder, his dark eyes promising severe, brutal punishment later.

I quietly watch them both leave the room together, walking side-by-side back to their master suite. Once the hallway is completely empty, I finally turn. My body is violently aching, my arm fiercely throbbing from his deep claws, and my heart entirely shattered. I head slowly down the dark, suffocating hallway to the isolated sanctuary of my bedroom, wondering how long I can possibly survive.