Chapter 30
Chapter 30:
The obsession was bleeding into my reality, poisoning my judgment. Just yesterday, I had fired a senior female executive on the spot because her cheap perfume carried a faint, sickeningly synthetic hint of wild roses. It wasn’t Adelina’s pure, unawakened scent, but it was enough to make my blood boil and my fangs descend.
Jase, you need to stop, my cousin Blake’s voice had echoed through our Pack mind-link that morning, laced with genuine fear. I saw her from a distance. She looks fine. You’re tearing the Pack apart over a wolfless stray. Let it go.
Let it go? Blake was a traitor for even suggesting it. Adelina wasn’t fine. She was my property, manipulated and held hostage by whatever nameless bastard had tricked her into that fake Mating Contract. She was a defective, wolfless Omega; she didn’t have the instincts to protect herself. I reached for the sleek phone on my desk, ready to deploy my elite Warriors to drag her out of whatever hiding place she had found.
Before my fingers could brush the receiver, the heavy glass doors swung open.
о𝗿𝗴𝖺𝗇𝗶𝗓𝗲 уo𝘂r 𝗹𝗂𝖻𝗋𝖺𝗿y оո
Kira Parrish rushed in, her face streaked with tears, her cloying jasmine perfume suffocating the room. She looked like a victim, trembling as she clutched her designer bag.
“Jase,” she sobbed, her voice cracking. “I just heard from a reliable informant. It’s worse than we thought p>
“What?” I snapped, my patience completely exhausted.
“Adelina really did marry that disgusting Rogue, Babe Vincent.” Kira choked out a sob, covering her mouth as if the words physically sickened her. “But Jase—they saw her at an underground club. He Marked her p>
The air in the room vanished.
“They said she had fresh bite marks all over her neck,” Kira whispered, tears spilling over her cheeks. “She looked completely dead inside. Like a broken doll p>
Marked.
The word struck my soul like a jagged silver blade. My Inner Wolf unleashed a deafening, agonizing roar that shattered the last fragile remnants of my sanity. My pure, untouched Omega. Defiled by a filthy, drunken Rogue who wasn’t even fit to breathe the same air as her.
My Alpha pride couldn’t accept that she had chosen someone stronger or better than me, but it latched violently onto this narrative. She was a victim. She had been ruined by a gutter rat, and now she was desperately waiting for me to save her.
A feral, inhuman snarl ripped from my throat.
I grabbed the edge of my massive obsidian desk—a piece of furniture that weighed hundreds of pounds—and flipped it with a violent surge of supernatural strength.
The heavy stone crashed to the floor with a deafening boom, obliterating my computer, files, and the lunch Kira had brought. The impact sent a shockwave through the room, spiderwebbing the bulletproof glass walls with jagged, explosive cracks.
Kira shrieked and shrank into the corner, terrified of the beast she had just uncaged. But through the red haze of my fury, I caught the briefest, sickening glint of triumph in her eyes.
I didn’t care. I didn’t care about Kira, the Pack, or the company.