Broken Bonds: The Rise of the White Wolf

Liv POV

The heavy bass of the music thrummed through the floorboards, syncing perfectly with the anxious, rabbit-fast beating of my heart.

I wasn't supposed to exist in this world.

I smoothed down the skirt of the pale blue dress I had scavenged from a thrift store. It was simple fabric, nothing like the shimmering designer gowns the high-born females wore, but it was clean. It was the color of a moonstone, and for tonight, that had to be enough.

I stood deep in the shadows of the grand archway, clutching a tray of empty champagne flutes like a shield. It was the only prop that allowed me to blend into the background, invisible to the enforcers scanning the crowd.

The ballroom was a dizzying sea of silk and tuxedos. The air was thick, almost suffocating, heavy with scents-vanilla, sandalwood, musk. The combined pheromones of hundreds of wolves in one enclosed space made my head spin.

And then, the air shifted.

It cut through the cloying perfume and the heat of bodies like a blade of pure ice. Rain. Ozone. Pine.

My breath hitched in my throat. My inner wolf scrambled to her feet, her tail wagging with a tentative, desperate hope.

Mate. Mate is here.

Helpless against the pull, I followed the scent.

Marcus stood near the center of the room, a dark gravity that drew every eye. He looked devastating in a black tuxedo, his dark hair swept back, his jawline hard enough to break a hand against. He radiated power, the air around him vibrating with the sheer, crushing force of his Alpha aura.

And draped over his arm like a trophy was Izzy.

She wore a dress of crimson silk that clung to every curve, looking every inch the Luna she was scheming to become. She leaned in, whispering something into his ear, and Marcus nodded, his expression grim and distant.

A pang of jealousy, sharp and hot, pierced my chest.

He doesn't know, I told myself, repeating the mantra. He just doesn't know yet.

I took a step forward, drawn by the magnetic, biological pull of the bond. I just needed to get closer. Just a few feet to feel the warmth of him.

Suddenly, Izzy turned.

Her eyes locked onto mine across the crowded room. There was no surprise in her gaze. She looked... ready.

She let go of Marcus's arm and glided toward the buffet table near where I was hiding. As she passed a large potted fern, I saw her hand flick out. A thick, sealed manila envelope slid from her clutch and landed silently on the plush carpet, right near the hem of my dress.

She kept walking, disappearing into the throng of dancers.

I frowned. Had she simply let it fall?

Instinct took over-the ingrained habit of an Omega used to cleaning up after the elite. Without thinking, I crouched down and picked it up. It was heavy.

"Excuse me," I started to say, intending to chase after her to return it.

"What do you have there, Omega?"

The voice was deep, booming. A Beta warrior I recognized-one of Izzy's cousins-stepped directly into my path, blocking my exit.

"I... Miss Vance dropped this," I stammered, holding out the envelope. "I was just-"

"Did she?" The Beta snatched it from my hand with aggressive speed. He tore the seal open. His eyes widened, a performance for an audience I didn't know was watching.

"Alpha!" he roared, turning his head. "Alpha Thorne!"

The music didn't stop, but the chatter died instantly. The silence rippled outward from us like a shockwave.

Marcus turned. His golden eyes swept over the crowd and landed, with terrifying weight, on me.

The temperature in the room seemed to plummet ten degrees. He stalked toward us, the crowd parting like the Red Sea before a storm. His scent changed instantly. The fresh rain was gone, replaced by the acrid smell of burning ozone and terrifying, lethal rage.

"What is this?" Marcus demanded, his voice a low growl that vibrated in the cavity of my chest.

"I found her trying to hide this, Alpha," the Beta lied smoothly, holding up the papers. "It contains the patrol schedules for the northern border. And a complete list of our silver reserves."

Gasps rippled through the room. That was classified information. Giving that to Rogues-wolves without a pack, savage and lawless-was high treason.

"No!" I shook my head, my hands beginning to tremble violently. "No, I just picked it up! Izzy dropped it!"

"Isabelle?" Marcus looked at Izzy, who had materialized at his side. Her face was a perfect mask of shock and betrayal.

"Marcus, I..." Izzy's voice trembled with practiced precision. "I don't know what she's talking about. Why would I have those documents here? I keep them in the safe, just like you asked."

She looked at me, her eyes wide and watery. "Liv, how could you? I know you needed money for your father's medical bills, but selling us out to Rogues?"

"Liar!" I screamed, panic rising in my throat like bile. "I never-"

"Silence!" Marcus roared.

The power of his voice hit me like a physical blow to the gut. The Alpha's Command.

My vocal cords paralyzed instantly. My mouth snapped shut against my will, teeth clicking together. My inner wolf whined, cowering in the dirt of my mind, terrified of her mate's aggression.

Marcus snatched the papers. He scanned them, his face twisting into a snarl. He looked at me, and for the first time, I saw him truly look at me.

But there was no love. No recognition of the soul-bond that tied us together. Only disgust.

"You dare?" he whispered, the sound deadly soft. "You dare betray this pack? You dare use the blood of our kin to sell us to slaughter?"

He thought I was a traitor. He thought the lowest creature in his pack had sold him out.

"Kneel."

The command crashed down on my shoulders like a falling beam. I had no choice. My knees buckled, hitting the hard marble floor with a sickening crack. Tears streamed down my face, hot and fast, but I couldn't lift a hand to wipe them away. I couldn't move.

"Please," I tried to push the word through the paralysis, but it came out as a strangled, broken whimper.

Marcus towered over me, a god of vengeance. "I should kill you where you stand."

"Marcus, wait!" My father's voice rang out. I couldn't turn my head, but I heard the raw desperation in his tone. "She's innocent! She would never-"

"Hold him back," Marcus ordered without looking away from me.

I heard a scuffle, then the sickening sound of a blow and my father's pained grunt.

Izzy stepped closer to Marcus, placing a delicate hand on his heaving chest. "Marcus, don't kill her here. It will ruin the ball. Lock her up. Let's find out who she's working for first."

She looked down at me, and for a split second, her mask slipped. A cold, viper's smile curved her lips.

"Take her to the cells," Marcus commanded, his voice devoid of any warmth. "And make sure she speaks to no one."

Two warriors grabbed my arms and dragged me backward. My heels scraped uselessly against the floor. Through the blur of tears, I watched Marcus turn back to Izzy, his hand resting protectively on her waist.

He was cradling the viper and caging the dove.

As the darkness of the hallway swallowed me, my inner wolf let out a sound I had never heard before. It wasn't a growl. It was the sound of a heart breaking.