Chapter 2

Alexandra POV:

Cheyenne dropped from the saddle before the horse had even settled. His heavy boots hit the stone with a dull thud, his Alpha aura rolling outward like choking smoke that made the commoners stumble back in terror.

"Cheyenne!" Cristina wailed, burying her face into his chest, clutching the heavy fur over her exposed chemise. "She went insane! She crippled your men, and humiliated me before the entire court!"

Cheyenne's jaw set in rigid disgust as he turned to face me. But the moment his gaze locked onto mine, his brow furrowed with a flicker of hesitation.

The trembling, downcast eyes he was used to were gone. In their place was a gaze so cold and razor-sharp it seemed to cut right through him.

"Look at you," he snarled, shaking off his unease and letting his voice carry the full weight of an offended noble. "Standing in the middle of a public avenue with your bridal gown torn to ribbons, veil discarded in the dirt, shamelessly displaying yourself before the common dregs! Not even inside my estate and you have already dragged the Mckinney name through the sewer! Have you lost every shred of decency, Alexandra?"

A dry, incredulous chuckle escaped my throat.

"Decency?" I asked, sweeping my eyes over him from head to toe. "Today is supposed to be our wedding day. Where is the bridal escort? Where are your pack’s ceremonial colors? You ride in on a warhorse dressed in combat iron, without a single ribbon of celebration, rushing to play white knight to another woman. To anyone watching, it looks less like a wedding and more like your family is hosting a funeral."

A few muffled snickers broke out among the market folk.

Cheyenne stared at me as if I had sprouted horns. In all the years he had known Alexandra Atkins, she had barely possessed the courage to speak above a whisper in his presence. Now,I was mocking him publicly without flinching.

His face flushed an ugly crimson, veins bulging along his neck. "Hold your tongue! Cristina came to speak with you like a civilized lady, and you repaid her with savagery! You are an unshifted, ungrateful wolfless parasite, and you dare lecture me on honor?"

"Civilized?" I stepped forward, the heel of my boot clicking hard against the cobblestone. "Look at your boots, Cheyenne. Those are venom-coated silver needles she dropped right there. She brought armed thugs to ambush my carriage, tear my clothes off, and poison me in broad daylight. You demand I answer for my torn bodice, yet you ask zero questions about the ones who tore it? Clasping your mistress in public while blaming the victim—your pack's breeding truly shows its quality."

The whispers in the crowd swelled into outright condemnation. In the Silvermoon Kingdom, concealing silver against an unarmed noblewoman was an act of rank cowardice.

"Is that really the Atkins girl?" an elder muttered near the tavern wall. "She's speaking like a High Inquisitor..."

Cheyenne’s eyes flared with volatile fury. Realizing he was bleeding ground in the court of public opinion, he puffed out his chest, sneering as if looking down from a high balcony.

"Enough of your venom," he declared, raising his voice so every spectator on the thoroughfare could hear. "I have tolerated the burden of your family's decay for long enough. I will not tie the proud bloodline of the Mckinneys to a vicious, wolfless shrew!"

The street went dead silent.

Cheyenne drew a theatrical, triumphant breath. "I, Cheyenne Mckinney, formally reject you, Alexandra Atkins, as my mate!"

The words hit the air like an executioner's axe.

Deep inside my sternum, the ancient blood pact that tethered our houses severed with a sickening, spiritual snap. The raw, violent shockwave of an Alpha's forced rejection battered against my unshifted system.

A sudden, sharp sting flared through my nerves, but my pulse didn't even skip a beat.

I locked my spine rigid. I did not sway. I did not drop to my knees.

Cheyenne waited, his lips parted in cruel anticipation, expecting me to collapse into the dirt in hysterical, broken sobs. An unshifted human was supposed to be crushed by an Alpha's spiritual severance. But when I met his eyes without flinching—calm, cold, and entirely unaffected—his triumphant smirk froze into stunned disbelief.

"Thank you for the favor," I said flatly, a razor-sharp smile touching my lips.

Cheyenne choked on his own breath. "What did you say?"

"I said, thank you for sparing me the trouble of being saddled with a cowardly, hypocritical dog," I replied, every syllable carrying cleanly across the stones. "You think I was desperate to marry into your house? If not for the childhood pact and my grandfather’s dying wish, I could pick any beggar off this street and find more spine than you possess."

"You lying bitch!" Cheyenne hissed, his fangs lengthening in unbridled rage.

Cristina peeked from behind his shoulder, her swollen mouth twisting into a venomous sneer. "Put on your brave face, beggar! You know your grandfather won't survive the week without the Mckinney medicine! The moment Cheyenne walks away, that old corpse will choke on his own blood, and you will have killed him!"

A lethal chill settled over my core.

"What are you waiting for?" Cheyenne barked, stepping forward, his chest puffing out. "Recite the acceptance vow and crawl back to your rotting estate."

I clenched my fists.

I took a slow, deliberate step toward Cristina.

Cheyenne’s eyes widened slightly, his predatory instincts signaling sudden danger before his brain could rationalize why he was fearing an unshifted girl. He took half a step back, leaving Cristina exposed.

I stopped less than two feet from her, my gaze dropping to the heavy, pearl-encrusted seams of her gown.