I pushed open the doors of the nearest tavern, and the room fell silent.
Every eye turned toward me, drawn to my disheveled appearance, to the madness they could probably feel bleeding off my skin.
I barely noticed them.
Because there she was.
Alina. Perched on a man’s lap like she fucking owned the place.
Her laugh—light, lilting, cruel—echoed through the tavern. My hands clenched into fists.
How dare she?
I had made it clear—there was to be no other man. No one else. Ever.
Yet here she was, flaunting her betrayal in my face like a goddamn prize.
The man beneath her was handsome in that pretty, forgettable way. Chiseled jaw. Blue eyes glinting in the lamplight. A fool who didn’t know he was sitting with the devil herself.
Then Alina turned.
She saw me.
And shesmirked.
Without missing a beat, she reached up, curled her fingers around the man’s neck, and yanked him into a kiss—deep, wet, deliberate. She devoured him like I hadn’t spent every breath trying to find her, like she didn’t know I would rip this place apart.
Then she pulled back, her hands trailing down his chest. She gripped his shirt, tugged it up, exposing his skin like an offering.
The bastard shuddered beneath her touch, completely oblivious.
Men nearby watched with envy, their gazes dripping with lust, silently hoping for their turn.
A few whores drifted down the stairs, their painted eyes scanning the crowd for opportunity. One sauntered up to me with a practiced sway, but I shoved her aside with a snarl, my gaze locked onher.
Alina.
She didn’t stop.
Her lips. Her hands. Her betrayal was on full, unapologetic display.
And I stood there, frozen.
Rage surged through me like molten iron, numbing every thought, every breath. My chest heaved. My vision blurred. All I could hear was the roar inside my skull.
Then I saw it.
She cast a glance in my direction—a fleeting, wicked look.
The bitch knew I was watching.
She was doing it on purpose—taunting me and daring me to lose control.
Her fingers roamed the stranger’s chest, slow and sinuous. She pulled him closer, her lips grazing his as they moved in perfect rhythm, as if I weren’t standing a few feet away, burning with fury.
The man leaned back. Alina tilted her head to meet his gaze, brushing her fingers over the rough stubble on his jawline. She tugged him closer again, mouth parting to devour his.
And that’s when I snapped.
