Seraphina POV:

I didn't sleep. In the pre-dawn darkness, I pulled a small duffel bag from the back of the closet. I couldn't take anything that belonged to the Kensingtons, only a few old clothes left to me.

Just as I was about to sign the rejection document, the sound of an engine cut through the silence. Harlan's Aston Martin. He was back.

My heart hammered against my ribs-a mix of fear and the undeniable pull of the mate bond. I quickly shoved the bag under the bed and hid the document under my pillow.

The bedroom door was thrown open.

Harlan's tall frame filled the doorway, bringing with him the chill of the night and the overpowering scent of cedar. The jasmine scent was fainter now, but my wolf could still detect its ghost on his skin.

His black hair was slightly messy, his tie loosened. His handsome face was etched with irritation and fatigue. When his dark brown eyes landed on me, they turned sharp and cold.

"You're still awake?" he asked, his voice rough with accusation.

I looked down, not wanting him to see the hatred in my eyes. "I was waiting for you," I lied.

He let out a cold laugh and stalked toward me. The force of his Alpha Dominion pressed down on me, making it hard to breathe. My inner wolf wanted to submit, but it also snarled with rage at his betrayal.

He stopped in front of me, his large body casting me in shadow. "Waiting for me?" He gripped my chin, forcing my head up. "Or planning your next pathetic attempt to play the victim?"

His touch was nauseating, but the mate bond sent a traitorous shiver across my skin. The conflict was a special kind of torture.

Mine... His inner wolf let out a possessive, guttural growl in the back of his mind, a sound that bled through our crumbling link.

But Harlan's own eyes were filled with disgust. He seemed to be tormented by his own instincts, and he blamed me for it.

"I wish the Moon Goddess had never made this mistake," he whispered, each word a new cut on my soul.

Then, he crashed his mouth down on mine.

It wasn't a kiss. It was a punishment. It was filled with anger, possession, and humiliation. His teeth scraped against my lip, and the coppery taste of blood filled my mouth.

I struggled, but his arms were like steel bands, crushing me against him. The kiss amplified the wound in my soul, and black spots danced in my vision.

Just as I thought I would suffocate, a soft, tentative voice echoed in his mind—Cora's.

Harlan, are you back? I'm a little scared by myself.

Harlan froze.

He shoved me away from him as if I were diseased. I stumbled backward, my spine hitting the bedpost with a hard thud. A wave of nausea and pain washed over me.

He didn't even look at me. He straightened his clothes, his face returning to its usual cold mask.

"Don't test my patience again, Seraphina," he said coolly, his attention already focused on soothing Cora through their link.

He turned and walked out of the bedroom, closing the door softly behind him, sealing me off from his world.

I slid to the floor, covering my mouth as a wracking cough tore through me. Blood seeped between my fingers. The double assault on my body and soul left me feeling like I was dying.

I hated him. In that moment, seven years of misplaced love finally crumbled into pure, unadulterated hatred.

I struggled to my feet and pulled the rejection document from under the pillow.

My hand trembled, but my resolve was iron. I dipped my finger into the blood on my lips and, in the space for the signature, I wrote my name: Seraphina Hayes.

Then, I added a single line below it.

"I, Seraphina Hayes, accept your rejection."

I placed the document, stained with my blood, directly in the center of his pillow. It was my final goodbye to him, to this entire sham of a relationship.

I pulled my small bag from under the bed and, without a backward glance, walked out of the gilded cage that had imprisoned me for four years.

The night air was cold. I fled the Kensington estate. Every step sent a jolt of pain through my insides, but I knew I had to live.

I walked along the deserted road, with no destination in mind.

The blood I'd lost was making my vision blur, and strength was draining from my limbs.

Finally, I collapsed at the base of a large oak tree and surrendered to the darkness.

Harlan POV:

The morning sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of my penthouse office, but I felt no warmth. Last night's punishing kiss hadn't brought the satisfaction I'd expected. It had only made my inner wolf more agitated.

Seraphina's scent—that damn, infuriating mix of sunshine and wildflowers—seemed to cling to my skin, refusing to wash away.

My wolf snarled in my head. Go back! Find her! She is ours!

Shut up! I snapped back internally. She is a mistake made by the Moon Goddess. A manipulative Omega who uses tears and weakness to try and control me.

I forced my attention to the documents on my desk, but her face kept flashing in my mind—her blue eyes filled with a mixture of pain and raw hatred.

My phone vibrated. A text from Cora, asking if I could join her for a walk in the garden at lunchtime. I replied with a simple "Yes," but felt nothing. My duty to Cora was a responsibility, not a desire. It stemmed from my brother Aiden's dying words, a garbled mind-link about "taking care of the Hayes girl." I assumed he meant Cora.

Suddenly, a frantic, furious mind-link slammed into my consciousness. It was Dr. Evans, our Pack's chief physician, a respected elder.

Alpha Kensington! Get to the Pack medical center now! Immediately! His mental voice was shaking with a rage I had never heard from him before.

I frowned, but Dr. Evans was not someone to be ignored. I left my work, took the private elevator to the garage, and drove to the medical center. The entire way, my wolf howled with a sense of dread that clawed at my gut.

The moment I stepped into the emergency wing, I saw her.

Seraphina was lying on a gurney, her face as white as the sheets she lay on, her lips pale and cracked. An IV was taped to her wrist, and a heart monitor beeped with a slow, weak rhythm. She looked like a flower that had been crushed.

Dr. Evans marched toward me, his face a mask of fury. His grey eyes burned.

"Look what you've done!" he hissed, his voice low but sharp enough to flay skin. "She is your mate! Your Luna! She almost died from internal bleeding and psychic shock caused by the mate rejection! Did you know that?"

The nurses and doctors nearby shot me looks of condemnation. I felt a flash of annoyance and embarrassment.

"She's just being fragile," I replied coldly, trying to defend myself.

"Fragile?" Dr. Evans laughed, a harsh, bitter sound. "Any wolf whose fated mate sleeps with another Omega right after being intimate with them would have their soul torn apart! You are murdering her, Alpha!"

His words hit me like a punch to the gut. I had... gone to comfort Cora last night. That was a secret only I should have known.

Dr. Evans pointed to the faint marks on Seraphina's neck, the lingering traces of my own pheromones. "Her body and soul were open to you, and you drove a knife into them! You are a disgrace to the Blackwood Pack!"

Before I could respond, a flash of red hair burst into the room. Hallie Cantrell, Seraphina's warrior best friend.

"Harlan Kensington!" she screamed, lunging for me. Two of my warriors intercepted her just in time.

"You bastard! What did you do to Sera? I'll kill you!" she shrieked, struggling against their hold, her green eyes filled with tears and murder.

I watched the scene with disgust. One unconscious, the other hysterical. So much trouble.

I turned my back on the chaos. "Heal her," I told Dr. Evans. "Bill the Pack."

I didn't look at Seraphina again as I walked out of the medical center. I told myself this was all her own doing.