Chapter 2

2

I went into the bedroom and started throwing my clothes into a suitcase.

A shaft of moonlight hit the floor, and I paused to look at the full moon.

It was the fifteenth.

In the middle of the night, the door was kicked open.

Killian flipped on the lights and stood by the bed, staring at me with suspicion.

"Why didn't you message me today?"

Killian knew better than anyone how much I used to worship him.

Years ago, he was in a crash that should have left him brain-dead.

I defied my entire pack to initiate the Crimson Bond.

It sounded like a lover's pact, but it was a brutal, parasitic magic.

Every mid-month, when the bond peaked, I would fall gravely ill for days.

Killian used to brag to his friends about how he 'wore me out' in bed.

He had no idea that every time he touched me, he was literally draining my life.

I remained silent, which only fueled his irritation.

"Are you deaf now?"

"If you hate Macy that much, I won't let her come around you anymore. Just stop this tantrum."

I couldn't help but scoff.

If I hadn't heard him talking about harvesting my blood, I might have believed him.

I looked him in the eye, my voice steady.

"Killian, let's end this. We're over."

He paused, then let out a sharp, mocking laugh.

"Nyra, how long are you going to keep up this boring act?"

"Everyone knows you'd do anything to keep me. This is a pathetic attempt to get attention."

He still didn't believe me.

I just shook my head and went back to my packing.

Killian, being the arrogant Alpha he was, wouldn't dream of apologizing.

He took a shower and went straight to his study.

"Hey, Macy, stop being mad. Did you get the package I sent?"

His voice drifted through the Bluetooth speakers in the bedroom―he'd forgotten to disconnect.

Macy's giggling voice followed.

"You're so bad, Killian. You actually bought the sheer black lace set?"

Killian let out a low, suggestive chuckle.

"I'm coming over tomorrow night. Make sure you're wearing it for me."

I quietly reached out and turned the speakers off.

A dull ache throbbed in my chest, a final echo of a dying connection.

Killian didn't return to the bedroom that night.

The next morning, I walked out of the home we had shared for three years with nothing but a suitcase.

After checking into a hotel, I called my best friend, Pip.

I hadn't truly enjoyed life since I came to this city.

She booked a professional photographer, insisting we take some photos to celebrate my freedom.

But as soon as we reached the park, I saw a familiar silhouette.

At the same time, Killian spotted me. His expression shifted from shock to pure fury.

"Nyra, are you stalking me now?"

"You were crying for a breakup yesterday, and now you're out here with another man? Have you no shame?"

I didn't answer. I just looked at Macy, who was clinging to him in a provocative dress.

How did I ever fall for a man this shallow?

Macy smirked at me. "Nyra, if you wanted to join us, you could have just asked."

"There's no need to do something so desperate and embarrassing."

Her tone was dripping with fake pity, and Pip had heard enough.

"Stalking you? Get over yourselves!"

"Go find a corner to rot in and leave us alone."

Pip grabbed my hand and winked at the photographer.

The guy, sensing the vibe, took my other hand and held it firmly.

Killian's face turned a bruised shade of purple.

"Nyra! Do you have any idea what you're doing?"

He ground the words out, his voice thick with suppressed rage.

He tried to step toward me, but Macy held him back, wrapping her arms around his waist.

"Killian, can't you see she's just trying to make you jealous? If you get angry, she wins."

"Remember how she hates it when we're together? Let's just go to a hotel tonight. That'll really show her."