"Who areyou?"
"Someone who wants an explanation." My voice comes out flat, dangerous. "For why you're shouting at her."
"It's none of your concern how I speak tomywife."
The word sends me reeling.
Wife.
I go still. Every thought in my head scattering like leaves in a windstorm.
Wife.
No.
No, that's not?—
I glance back at Senna, and the look on her face—guilt, fear, desperation—confirms it.
She's married.
Tohim.
The bond in my chest twists violently, rejecting the idea outright, and I have to grit my teeth against the surge of rage that floods through me.
"Is that true?" I don't look away from her. Can't. "Are you married to him?"
She opens her mouth, but no sound comes out. Her eyes are shining again, tears threatening to spill over, and the silence stretches between us like a chasm.
"Of course it's true." The man—herhusband—steps around me and grabs Senna's arm, yanking her away from the wall. She stumbles, her hand flying up to brace against his chest, and I see the way she flinches when his fingers dig into her skin.
Something in me snaps.
I move without thinking, reaching for him, but Senna's voice stops me cold.
"Don't."
The word is barely a whisper, but it's laced with so much fear that I freeze mid-step.
She's not afraid of me.
She's afraid of what he'll do if I interfere.
The realization cuts deeper than any blade.
"You will pay for this." The man drags her toward the road, his grip bruising, and Senna doesn't resist. Doesn't fight. Just lets herself be pulled along like she's done this a hundred times before.
And maybe she has.
I stand there, rooted to the spot, watching as he hauls my mate away from me. Every instinct I have is screaming at me to stop him. To rip his hand off her arm and break every bone in his body for daring to touch her like that.
But Senna won't look at me.
She keeps her eyes down, her shoulders hunched, and the last thing I see before they disappear around the corner is the way her free hand trembles at her side.
The bond in my chest is howling.
Clawing. Raging.
