Chapter 6

• Camellia's POV
• I turned to leave the bedroom.
• Esmond grabbed my wrist. "You always wanted a kid," his voice rasped. "Let's make one right now. What do you say?"
• "That was before." I yanked my arm free. "I'll have children someday—just not yours."
• His amber eyes flashed.
• Every Alpha-blooded werewolf had that possessive streak.
• Before I could blink, he slammed me onto the mattress, his weight pinning me down.
• "Say that again." His growl vibrated against my collarbone.
• I bared my teeth. "I'd rather die than carry your spawn. You make me sick."
• His mouth crashed into mine before I finished.
• Pine needles and blood filled my senses—his scent. The temporary mark on my neck flared white-hot.
• When his calloused hands gripped my shoulders, static sparks erupted where skin met skin. The remnants of our mate bond were putting up one hell of a fight.
• "Get off!" I arched with a feral snarl, fangs splitting my lip.
• Something was wrong. Terribly wrong.
• His thumb brushed my bare collarbone. Instead of the usual electric shiver down my spine, nausea churned through my gut.
• Lyra roared in my skull. Her claws shredded the mental barriers I built.
• Esmond's breath hitched against my ear.
• The teasing scent that once made me weak now churned my stomach.
• "Don't look at me like that," he murmured, lips grazing my earlobe. "You know how hungry my wolf gets after the full moon."
• His palm slid down my hip—a move that used to melt me.
• Now my entire body broke out in goosebumps.
• When his fangs grazed the temporary mark, searing pain exploded across my neck.
• Lyra's screech nearly split my skull. My right hand shifted involuntarily, claws ripping through his left shoulder.
• "F*ck!" Esmond staggered back, smashing into the coffee table. The crystal ashtray shattered.
• Blood dripped onto the beige rug as he clutched his shoulder.
• His golden irises trembled violently. He stared at my still-shifted hand as if seeing a stranger.
• "This...can't be..."
• Sunlight streamed through the window, highlighting the veins bulging on his neck. His Alpha aura swelled with rage.
• I understood his shock. Werewolves can't resist their mates.
• Even during our worst fights, my traitorous body always responded to his touch.
• But now? Lyra saw him as a threat.
• Lyra no longer recognized him as our mate.
• "You felt it," I spat, wiping blood from my mouth. "Our mate bond's hanging by a thread since you screwed that she-wolf."
• The moment my nails shifted back, I yanked at my shirt, the cedar scent from last night with Lionel still clinging to the fabric.
• "No way!" Esmond bellowed.
• His healing skin glistened under sunlight—damn Alpha regeneration.
• Suddenly he lunged, pinning me again. "Then we'll remake the bond. Right. Now."
• My body froze, then bucked harder.
• "Get your hands off me!"
• He ignored me, his fingers teasing my sensitive spots.
• "You want this too, don't you?"
• "Don't make me hate you."
• He froze, just as his gaze dropped to mine. His pupils constricted involuntarily.
• I kneed him hard in the gut, scrambling to the corner.
• Our distorted shadows clawed at the walls like battling beasts.
• "Lyra doesn't recognize you anymore," I hissed. "You killed us the moment you cheated."
• His eyes were wrestling with turmoil.
• After what felt like an eternity, he stomped off the bed and stormed out.
• The door slam rattled my bones.
• Three days passed without a word.
• I left dozens of voicemails about finalizing the rejection—radio silence.
• By weekend, I was browsing job listings in the packhouse living room when the door creaked.
• Esmond strode in, looking haggard.
• He looked like he hadn't slept in weeks.
• "Let's talk about the rejection," I said calmly, setting down my coffee.
• His jaw twitched. "Rejection's off the table. We're attending the Pack gathering tonight. Be ready by seven."