My Alpha Refused My Dying Rejection

No.7

Kaden POV

The distance between us was less than twenty feet, yet crossing it felt like traversing a battlefield I had conquered long ago. The crowd parted like water, their eyes wide with a mixture of reverence and terror. They knew better than to stand between an Alpha and his prey.

As I closed in on the woman in red, the present moment blurred, overlaid by the ghost of a memory from three years ago.

It was on this very floor, under these same crystal chandeliers. It was the night of my ascension. Aline had approached me then, not in crimson silk, but in a drab, ill-fitting grey dress that hung off her frame like a sack. She had looked up at me with wide, hopeful eyes—eyes that hadn't yet learned to hate me—and asked, in a voice barely above a whisper, if she could have a dance.

I remembered the sneer that had curled my lip. I remembered the cold, venomous words I had sent down our newly formed bond, ensuring no one else could hear the cruelty.

''An Omega thinks she deserves the spotlight at my ascension? You are an embarrassment to the Warren name. Go back to the shadows where you belong."

She had crumbled then. Shoulders slumped, head bowed, she had retreated while my mother and sister snickered behind their champagne flutes. She hadn't danced that night. She hadn't danced for three years.

Until tonight.

Until she decided to drape herself in the color of sin and spin in the arms of my rival.

My jaw clenched, grinding my teeth together. She wasn't that timid girl anymore. This was a calculated insult. A public declaration of war.

I reached the center of the floor. Deric Sullivan stood his ground for a fraction of a second too long, having moved back to stand protectively near Aline. His eyes, dark and challenging, met mine.

Alpha Warren, Deric nodded, his tone polite but lacking the submission required in my territory.

Alpha Sullivan, I returned, my voice a low growl. "I believe this is my dance."

I didn't wait for his consent. I reached out, my hand clamping around Aline's wrist. I yanked her from his grasp with enough force to make her stumble, pulling her flush against my chest.

Zap.

The sparks erupted instantly. The Electric Touch of the mate bond sizzled where our skin connected, a cruel biological trick designed to make me want her. My wolf paced in my mind, confused by the conflicting urges to bite her throat or mark it.

I ignored the beast. I placed a hand on her waist—firm, possessive, bruising—and forced her into the rhythm of the waltz.

She was trembling. Good.

I leaned in close, my lips brushing the shell of her ear, creating the illusion of intimacy for the watching crowd. But in the private, mental space of our Mind-Link, I unleashed my fury.

''Three years, Aline. I didn't even know you could dance. How long have you been saving this performance for another Alpha?"

Her body went rigid in my arms. She didn't look at me; her gaze was fixed on the knot of my tie, her face drained of all color. Up close, the makeup couldn't hide the dark circles under her eyes or the sharpness of her cheekbones. She looked fragile, like glass ready to shatter.

But I wasn't moved. I was incensed.

I inhaled deeply, and my anger spiked. Underneath the soft, sweet scent of wild roses that was naturally hers, there was the musk of sandalwood and ocean salt. Deric. She smelled like him.

My grip on her waist tightened painfully.

''You reek of him," I snarled in her mind. ''You kill my heir, discard our pup like trash, and a week later you're here, wearing red, rubbing yourself against a rival Alpha? Do you have no shame?"

She flinched, a small, broken sound escaping her throat. For a second, her eyes lifted to mine. I expected to see defiance, or perhaps the tears she used to shed so freely.

Instead, I saw... nothing.

Her eyes were two dark voids. No fear. No anger. No hope. Just a terrifying, hollow silence. It was the look of someone who was already dead but hadn't stopped moving.

''Is this what you wanted?" I pushed harder, needing to break through that apathy, needing to see her hurt the way my pride hurt. ''To make me jealous? To make me notice you?"

I spun her around, the movement sharp and aggressive. The music swelled, masking the violence of our interaction.

''Don't look at me with those dead eyes. You think this little stunt will win you favor? You overestimate yourself, Omega. You are mine to break, not his to fix."

I waited for her to beg. I waited for the apology. I held the leash tight, convinced I had finally put her back in her place.

I had no idea that the leash had already snapped.