Hayley's scent shifted instantly the moment Elliot's words hit her. I could feel it even from a distance—the sharp spike of emotional instability, the kind that made weaker wolves lose control of their instincts.
Her eyes reddened as she stepped forward half a pace.
"Why can't I enter the hall when Anastasia is here?" she demanded, voice breaking just enough to imitate vulnerability. "Elliot… you're being unfair."
Elliot didn't soften. His aura remained steady, controlled, almost merciless in its restraint.
"To me, you cannot be compared to Anastasia," he said flatly. "I only intended to compensate you materially. Nothing more. You should have understood that long ago."
The words landed cleanly, without hesitation.
And I saw it—Hayley felt the shift too.
Her breathing tightened as if her instincts were struggling to accept rejection from an Alpha she had long anchored herself to. Her gaze flickered, searching his face for something familiar, something that no longer existed.
