Dorian Vale kicked a rock so hard it broke against a tree trunk. His dark eyes burned with hurt that felt like acid in his chest.
"She forgot about me," he muttered, walking back and forth near the old creek where he and Aria used to play as kids.
"Just like that. One stupid mate bond and I don't exist anymore."
The trees around him felt empty. Like the whole world had changed when Aria became important and left him behind in the shadows.
He'd watched from the servant rooms as fancy wolves bowed to her. Seen her walk into Moonhold castle like she belonged there. Like she hadn't spent eighteen years cleaning floors and serving better wolves alongside him.
"Traitor," he whispered. The word felt bitter.
A branch snapped behind him. Dorian spun around, his wolf senses on high alert.
Three wolves stepped out from behind the thick pine trees. They moved wrong—too smooth, too quiet. Their eyes held a strange red glow that made Dorian's skin crawl.
