Your Alpha King Father's My Husband Now-Back Off, Ex!

Victor steadied Ava, his hand settling gently on her waist.

"There's no one here, sweetheart," he said. "I must have left the TV on. You know how loud those shows get."

Ava almost admired it. Still lying, straight to her face. She wanted to see how long he could keep it up.

Victor jerked his chin at Stella. Leave.

Stella rubbed the arm that the cane had struck, tears running down her face. She didn't budge.

His jaw tightened. He sent a mind-link to her. "Stop crying. Go. Now."

Victor pulled Ava closer, clearing a path for Stella to slip out.

But Stella's eyes stayed locked on his arm around Ava's waist, and her face twisted.

"So what if she finds out now?" she shot back through the link. "I'm done hiding."

"Not now." His patience frayed.

Stella caught the warning in it. Finally, she turned on her heel and started for the door.

Ava chose that moment to pull free, fumbling, hands groping in the air for balance.

"Wait," she said, soft and uncertain. "Shouldn't we turn off the TV?"

She took two shuffling steps forward. Straight into Stella's path.

"Good idea," Victor said quickly, voice tight. "I'll take care of it."

Ava crouched, fingers searching the floor until they closed around the cane.

She gripped it.

And as she rose, she brought her heel down hard on Stella's foot.

Stella shrieked.

Ava gasped and staggered, the cane swinging wildly. It cracked across Stella's shoulder. Once. Twice. The third swing caught her ribs, and Stella reeled into the wall.

"I'm sorry!" Ava cried, her face a picture of horror. "I heard a noise, I didn't know-"

"You bitch!" Every trace of the sweet pretense shattered.

Stella lunged.

Ava sidestepped. She dropped the cane, caught Stella's wrist mid-swing, twisted it back hard, and fisted her other hand in Stella's hair.

Stella screamed.

"Stella, stop!" Victor shouted. But he didn't pull her away.

He grabbed Ava's wrist instead. Hard. Bones grinding.

Ava didn't let go. She yanked hard, and Stella screamed again, clawing at her arm. Then Stella's free hand flew up, nails raking across Ava's cheek.

Skin split. Blood welled warm and slid down her jaw.

"Let go of me!" Ava wrenched free of Victor's grip, shoved Stella back by her hair, and released her.

Victor shoved Ava.

Her spine slammed into the dresser. The breath punched out of her lungs.

She stood there, chest heaving, one hand pressed to her bleeding cheek.

And Victor stepped between them. His back to Ava. Hands raised, like she was the one who needed calming.

"Enough," he said, low and firm. "Both of you."

Stella melted into him, trembling, face buried against his shoulder, breath hitching in soft little sobs.

Victor's hand came up to cradle the back of her head. He pressed a kiss to her temple.

Ava watched them and felt the last of something die.

"She attacked me," Stella whimpered. "Victor, she attacked me."

"I know," he murmured. "It's over now."

Ava's hands curled into fists.

Finally, Victor turned to face her. His expression was hard. He looked at her like she was a stranger.

Worse. Like she was the villain in the room.

Ava straightened. "Why is Stella here?"

"She was worried about me." Calm. Reasonable. "The elders are putting pressure on me, Ava. They won't accept a blind Luna. No pack would."

Her throat tightened. "You forget she's the one who blinded me?"

"She was young. She acted out. She didn't mean for it to go that far." He sighed, the patient one. "She's spent a year suffering abroad. She's grown up. Why can't you let it go?"

Acted out. He actually said acted out.

A year ago, this man had thrown Stella into the dungeon. He'd wept with Ava, sworn he'd kill Stella for taking her sight.

Now Stella was in his bed, and it was Ava he looked at like the problem.

Ava let out a slow breath. When she spoke, her voice was quiet.

"Then choose."

Victor blinked. "What?"

"Her or me." She lifted her chin toward Stella, still curled against his chest. "You keep calling yourself my mate. So choose. Right now. Her, or me."

For a heartbeat, something crossed his face. Not guilt. Calculation.

Then it settled, cold and final.

"Be reasonable, Ava." He didn't hesitate. "You're blind. A blind woman can't be Luna. She can't stand at my side, can't read a room, can't find her own mate across it. The pack would never bow to you." His voice softened. "I've carried you for a year. I can't carry you forever."

No performance left. Just the truth he'd been circling all along, waiting for her to say it first.

So she said it for him.

Ava straightened, and her voice came out clear and steady.

"I, Ava Bennett, reject you, Victor Sterling, as my mate."

Victor's breath caught.

For one raw second the bond wrenched, a hot, tearing pain ripping through her.

Victor recovered first, and something like relief loosened his shoulders. He'd wanted this. She'd handed it to him gift-wrapped, exactly as he'd planned.

"...I accept," he said firmly. "I accept your rejection, Ava."

The mate bond snapped cleanly.

And Ava lifted her hand and pulled off the dark glasses.

Her eyes met his. Clear. Focused. Bright hazel, and burning.

The color drained from Victor's face.

"Wait-" He stepped toward her. "Ava, wait. You can see-"

"For a whole year," Ava said, "you waited for me to set you free so you'd get to keep your hands clean." She tilted her head. "Take a good look, Victor. This is the last time I'll ever look at you like you matter."

Victor's mouth opened. Nothing came out.

"Get out."

"Ava, please, just listen-"

"Get. Out." Her voice didn't shake at all. "Both of you. This is my house."

"Victor." Stella pressed a hand to her ribs, whimpering. "It hurts. I think she broke something."

Victor's head whipped toward her, concern flooding right back. He scooped Stella up like she weighed nothing.

"I'll take you to the hospital," he murmured.

The door slammed behind them.

Ava stood alone in the wreck of her bedroom.

Her hand found the velvet box.

She crossed to the window, pushed it open, and dropped the box into the dark. She didn't hear it land.

Six years since the bond appeared, gone in one small sound she never even heard.

She did not know how long she had been standing there when the phone rang.

She stared at it, then picked it up.

"Finally." Her mother's voice, sharp and impatient. No hello. "Your father and I have been calling all day."

Ava closed her eyes. "I was at the hospital."

"Right, right, the eyes." Marnie blurted. "Listen, we need to move fast on the Stella girl. She blinded you, the pack owes us. You'll file with the elders and demand compensation. A lot of it. Your brother needs a house, the wedding's coming up-"

"Mom." Ava's voice was very quiet. "I can see again."

A beat of silence. Then: "Even better. You can sign the forms yourself. So, about the amount-"

Ava opened her eyes and stared at the ceiling.

Not thank the Goddess. Not are you all right. Two people had sworn they loved her today. Neither one had asked about her eyes.

"No," she said.

"What did you just say?"

"I said no. I'm not filing anything. I'm not asking for a cent." Her voice steadied, cold and clear. "Victor and I are finished. I rejected him. Whatever you were planning to squeeze out of the Sterlings, forget it. I'm not paying for Wyatt's house. Not his wedding. Not anything."

"You ungrateful little-"

"I'm done bleeding for all of you."

Ava hung up.

She set the phone down. It rang again at once.

She didn't pick it up.

Then the doorbell rang.

Her head snapped toward it. Her stomach dropped.

Victor. Of course. Back to explain, to smooth it over, to make her feel like she'd blown it all out of proportion.

She stalked to the door, bruised arm aching, and wrenched it open.

"I told you to leave. I don't want to hear-"

The words died in her throat.

The man on her doorstep was not Victor.

Taller. Broader. A dark suit cut to perfection. And his eyes, cold and silver-blue, fixed on her face with an intensity that caught her breath.

The Alpha King. Damon Sterling.

Victor's adoptive father.