My decision was final.
Better to gamble with the Arthien wolves than to remain another moment under Rion Morrigan's lands.
The thought burned inside me like acid. He had traded me off like so easily, like I wasn't even someone with mind or emotions. Like I was no more than a coin to be tossed across a table, a bargaining chip.
How dare he?
I couldn't decide which one was worse: Finn or Rion. Maybe they both were the worst of their kinds.
"Let me go," I told Ares, forcing the words past the tightness in my throat.
Ares's arm was firm against me, his grip steady as iron, as though even my breath was under his command. His eyes flickered toward his Alpha, awaiting silent approval.
I could feel Rion watching at the corner of my eyes.
Though I refused to meet his gaze, the intensity of it pressed down on me.
Calm, silent, almost patient—and yet it seared through my bones.
Every passing second that he stared was another moment of burning humiliation.
I kept my face cold.
