Chapter 2

Vincent noticed my silence and barked, his voice sharpening. "Chloe Smith!"

I snapped back to reality.

I stood up and locked eyes with his cold blue gaze.

"I'm going to find a job and move out," I said.

He snorted, mocking me as if I'd just cracked a joke. "You? In Blackwood Territory, you'd be lucky if you could get a job scrubbing floors.

"Even a fragile Omega like Mia has a better shot at a decent job out there than you do."

Right then, Mia stepped out of the upstairs closet, wearing an ice-blue silk gown.

It was the relic Vincent kept in memory of his deceased fated mate.

Before she died, he ordered a custom dress for her every year on her birthday.

Once, while cleaning, I accidentally brushed that gown. Vincent slapped me hard and unleashed his Alpha command, forcing me to bare my neck on the floor.

But now, Vincent stared at Mia wearing that exact dress, a rare softness bleeding into his eyes.

He smiled and nodded, stepping forward to gently adjust the collar.

"You look beautiful. Take whichever one you want. They're all yours now," he said.

Mia twirled, lifting her skirt with a smug grin as she flashed me a mocking look, making her triumph obvious.

"So, Chloe, what do you think? Does this dress suit me?" she asked.

I met her gaze with a flat smile and a nod.

"Looks great. It suits you perfectly," I said.

She blinked, clearly thrown off by my complete lack of reaction.

I didn't waste another word on her, turning on my heel to walk into the kitchen.

The seven-year surrogate mate contract was set to expire in three days.

It was finally time to pack my bags and claim my freedom.

I had just settled into the guest room when a text from Vincent lit up my screen.

Vincent: [Mia needs a ride to the Crimson Ridge Lounge to meet some friends. Drive her.]

I frowned, typing back an impatient response: [Can't she just call a pack driver herself?]

This was the second time today I'd pushed back against his command.

I could hear the barely contained irritation in his instant voice note.

Vincent: [You can't even handle a simple task? You've been living off pack resources for years, and now you're whining about pulling security for once?]

I didn't have the energy to fight him at this point, so I gave in.

That finally seemed to satisfy him. Vincent replied: [See? Was that so hard? Learn your place.]

When I walked downstairs after changing, Vincent was already waiting in the packhouse courtyard.

Standing next to him was Mia, wearing a low-cut top and practically drenched in heavy perfume.

"Hurry up. Mia's got places to be. Don't make her wait," Vincent snapped.

His voice was icy as he urged me along.

Mia flashed me a sugary smile. "Thanks, Chloe."

Then she spun around and threw her arms around Vincent's neck.

She kissed him hard, marking her territory right in front of me before finally heading for the truck.

She slid into the passenger seat and shot me a look, her tone dripping with fake sympathy.

"Sorry about that. Vincent just can't keep his hands off me. Honestly, having him all over me every night is exhausting," she smirked.

I kept my eyes locked on the road, dead silent, until she realized I wasn't biting and shut her mouth.

But right as we neared the lounge, a heavy SUV modified with silver-tipped ram bars came barreling out of a side road.

A Rogue ambush. I yanked the wheel, but it was too late.

We took a massive hit.

The impact slammed my head hard against the driver-side window.

White-hot agony exploded in my leg, tearing through muscle and bone.

Mia immediately started screaming bloody murder in the passenger seat.

Gritting my teeth against the pain, I glanced over. She only had a microscopic scratch on her arm from the shattered glass, but she was acting like she was dying.

For a split second, hearing her hysterical wailing, I actually thought she'd been mangled.

It wasn't until the pack enforcers and healers arrived to pry us from the wrecked truck that I noticed my calf was sliced wide open by a jagged chunk of silver from the Rogue's bumper.

Meanwhile, Mia's scratch was so shallow that her weak Omega healing factor was already closing it up.

Just as the healers were packing up the trauma kits, Vincent arrived.

He threw his truck into park, shoved the healers out of his way, and dropped to his knees by Mia, his voice trembling as he checked her for injuries.

Mia pouted, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. "Vincent, my arm hurts so bad, and there's blood everywhere."

Vincent immediately barked at the enforcers to get her to the private wing of the infirmary, yelling at the top of his lungs for someone to fetch the head healer.

He rushed past me twice, completely ignoring my existence.

I looked down at my mangled calf and let out a quiet, bitter laugh.

The agony in my leg was nothing compared to the numb emptiness inside me.

They tossed me into a run-down transport van, dumped me at a low-ranking pack clinic, and left me rotting in line.

While I waited, I caught a couple of Omega medics gossiping in the corner.

"Did you see how frantic Alpha Vincent was over Mia? Just a tiny scratch and he's calling in the pack doctor," the first intern whispered.

The second one scoffed, "Seriously, where else will you find a powerful Alpha with a soft side? I'd mate with him in a heartbeat. And that proxy Luna? What a joke. She's all banged up and he didn't even check if she was breathing."

I closed my eyes and leaned against the cold wall. No one would ever be happy being mated to Vincent.

Finally, the healer called my name.

As they wheeled me toward the treatment room, I saw Vincent walking down the hallway, carrying Mia, her arm already wrapped in gauze.

His eyes finally landed on me, and his forehead immediately creased into a heavy scowl.

"Were you even watching the road? If Mia hadn't been lucky, those Rogues would've slaughtered her!" Vincent snarled.

Mia buried her face into his chest, her voice soft and syrupy. "Vincent, it's my fault. I asked Chloe to drive me to the lounge. That's why things went sideways, so please don't blame her."

Vincent pulled her even closer, his voice full of sweet concern. "Don't beat yourself up, baby. It wasn't your fault. You got hurt too, and it kills me to see you like this.

"Come on, let's head up to the top floor and get you some food to calm your nerves."