Eventually, I grew desperate enough to bare my throat and try to draw him in—anything to make the Alpha who was supposed to be my mate stay in our chambers for just one night. I let my natural scent rise, unchecked, hoping it might stir something in him.
Alaric did pause. For the first time in ages, he moved toward me.
But just as his lips were about to meet mine, he gripped my chin and smiled—a cruel, mocking twist of his mouth. His canines glinted in the low light.
"Lyra, you really are this pathetic, aren't you?"
"Too bad I have standards. I don't touch tainted things."
The next day, he brought Seren to a pack charity gathering. My intimate images—the ones I'd sent only to him through warded channels—had been printed out and placed on display for the highest bidder.
When I was dragged into the grand hall, the first thing I saw was my own image splashed across the massive tapestry screen.
Alaric watched the color drain from my face, his smile wide and vicious. His wolf gleamed behind his eyes, satisfied.
"Like it, mate? Happy first anniversary of our bond."