No Longer Your Spare Part: The Luna's Revenge

Seraphina POV:

Seraphina. Foyer. Now.

The voice exploded in my head. Dante. Even without the completed mating mark, his Alpha frequency was so strong it bypassed my mental shields.

My stomach twisted. Used to be butterflies. Now it was just bile.

I walked down the grand staircase.

Dante Moretti stood in the center of the foyer. He was a weapon in a bespoke Italian suit. Six foot four, lethal grace, eyes the color of a brewing storm.

Clinging to his arm was Isabella. She wore white, of course. The color of innocence she didn't possess.

"You summoned me, Alpha Moretti?" I asked, stopping at the bottom of the stairs. I didn't bow.

Dante's eyes narrowed. He sensed the shift in the air—the lack of fear.

He took a step forward. Sandalwood, rain, raw tobacco. The scent hit me like a physical blow. My biological imperative screamed at me to bare my neck.

I bit the inside of my cheek until I tasted copper.

"We are going to The Onyx," Dante said, voice cold. "Your sister wants to celebrate the engagement. You are coming."

"I have to pack for London."

"It wasn't a request," Dante snapped. The air shimmered with Alpha pressure. "Isabella wants her family there. You will not ruin her night with your sullen attitude."

Isabella smiled, a shark baring teeth. "Please, Sarah. It won't be the same without you."

She needed a prop. Someone to look small so she could look big.

"Fine," I said.

The Onyx was carved out of volcanic rock, thumping bass vibrating in my teeth.

We sat in VIP. Dante ordered champagne. I sat on the edge of the plush leather sofa, making myself invisible.

"To us," Dante said, raising his glass to Isabella. "To the future."

"To the future," Isabella cooed.

I watched the bubbles rise, counting the seconds until I could leave.

Then, the groan of stressed metal.

Wolves hear everything. The massive chandelier above us—twisted steel and silver plating—was giving way.

"Dante!" Isabella shrieked.

Gravity took over.

The chain snapped.

Dante moved. Alpha speed.

He lunged.

Not for me.

He threw his body over Isabella, rolling them both off the sofa and onto the floor, clear of the impact zone.

I didn't move. I just watched him choose.

The chandelier crashed down.

The world exploded in crystal and steel. The edge of the heavy silver frame clipped my shoulder and smashed into my legs.

"Ahhh!"

The scream tore from my throat. Silver.

For wolves, it's acid. The plating seared through my jeans, hissing as it touched skin. The smell of burning meat filled the booth.

The music cut. Silence.

"Isabella? Are you hurt?" Dante's frantic voice. He was scrambling up, checking her over.

"I... I'm scared, Dante," Isabella whimpered, burying her face in his chest. Not a scratch on her.

I lay trapped under the twisted metal, gasping, black spots dancing in my vision. "Help," I croaked. "Please."

Dante looked over. His eyes were cold. Inconvenienced.

"Stay here," he told Isabella softly.

He walked over. He didn't lift the metal immediately. He looked down at me with disdain.

"You're making a scene," he hissed.

That was the moment.

The golden thread tying our souls together didn't just fray. It snapped.

I closed my eyes and let the darkness take me.