I thought about Drake. About his hands on me, soft and warm, the alpha that claimed me. About the nights I thought we shared something sacred. My throat hurt. My eyes burned. My heart felt like it had been hollowed out. And yet… I had to do this.
I held up the match, my other hand pressed to my neck where his mark had been. The imprint burned under my fingers. Pain shot through me, sharp and deep, and I gritted my teeth.
I whispered to the shadows of that glass house, to the ghosts of the life I lost, “I am Luna Chloe Brightman. I reject you, Alpha Drake Thornhill. I sever the bond. You are no longer mine.”
The pain hit like a wave, electric, burning through my veins. I grabbed the mark and pulled. It screamed in my mind. My body convulsed, but I held on.
I felt him inside me, the bond snapping, tearing apart. My lungs burned, my tears mixed with blood and sweat, but I didn’t stop. I couldn’t. Not anymore.
I struck the match.
And I threw it at the glass house.