The White Wolf He Rejected For A Mistress

Caroline POV:

When I returned to the table, the atmosphere in the restaurant had shifted. The air was thick with tension.

"You have no wolf," Ariana was saying to Blake, loud enough for the neighboring tables to hear. She was wearing my earrings. "That's why she doesn't understand our connection, Blake. She's basically human. She doesn't feel the pull of the pack like we do."

I stopped at the table. "I understand the pull of loyalty, Ariana. Something you seem to lack."

"Don't start," Blake warned, glaring at me.

Suddenly, the ground shook.

A boom echoed from the kitchen—a gas explosion. Rogues. It had to be.

The restaurant was chaos. Wolves were shifting, tables were overturning.

Above us, the massive crystal chandelier—iron and silver, beautiful and deadly—swayed violently. The ceiling groaned.

I looked up. The anchor bolt snapped.

"Blake!" I screamed.

Time seemed to slow down. The massive fixture was falling directly over our table.

It was the ultimate test of instinct. In moments of life or death, a wolf doesn't think. They react. They protect their most precious thing. Their mate.

Blake moved. He was a blur of speed.

He lunged across the table.

He tackled Ariana.

He shoved her clear of the impact zone, covering her body with his own, rolling them both to safety under a heavy oak sideboard.

I stood there. I didn't have Alpha speed. I didn't have a wolf to enhance my reflexes.

The chandelier crashed down.

The world exploded into pain.

Half a ton of crystal and silver metal slammed into me. I felt my right leg shatter. The jagged metal spikes, coated in silver dust, pierced my shoulder, pinning me to the floor.

The scream that tore from my throat was human and raw. The silver burned like acid, sizzling as it touched my blood.

Dust and debris filled the air.

"Ariana! Are you hurt?" I heard Blake's frantic voice.

"I... I think I scraped my elbow," Ariana whimpered.

I lay under the wreckage, gasping for air. The silver was poisoning me, fast. "Blake..." I croaked.

Blake crawled out from under the sideboard. He helped Ariana up. He checked her over, scanning her for injuries.

Then, he looked at the pile of twisted metal where his wife was buried.

He saw my hand sticking out, blood pooling on the expensive carpet.

He took a step toward me, his eyes wide with horror.

"I can't breathe!" Ariana gasped, clutching his arm. "The dust! My asthma! Blake, don't leave me!"

Blake hesitated. He looked at me, trapped and bleeding out. He looked at Ariana, who was standing and breathing fine.

"Beta guards!" Blake roared at the confused security team rushing in. "Get Caroline out! Get her to the hospital!"

He scooped Ariana up into his arms. "I'm getting Ariana to fresh air."

He turned his back to me. Again.

As the darkness encroached on my vision, I watched him run out the exit, holding another woman, while silver poison ate through my veins.

My phone was shattered in my pocket, but the calculation in my mind was crystal clear.

The chandelier fell. He became her shield. I became the casualty.

-20.

Total Remaining: 10.