Chapter 70 – Breakable

(Luca's perspective)

I've faced a lot of crap in my life. Fought battles I wasn't ready for, took hits that should've left me dead, and carried burdens no one else even saw. But this?

This was something else entirely.

Quinn.

Mated. To Cale.

The moment he hinted at it—casually, like it was nothing—I felt the air shift. It wasn't just the atmosphere; it was like the earth itself tilted beneath me. A force, raw and gut-wrenching, dug into my chest.

It settled deep in my bones, an ache I couldn't shake.

And my heart?

Gone.

Ripped. Shattered. Scattered into a million pieces, each one cutting deeper than the last.

I didn't even realize my hands had curled into fists until I felt the sharp sting. My claws had broken through my skin. Blood pooled in my palms, warm and sticky. The pain barely registered—lost in the storm of rage swirling inside me.

I turned around. Walked. No. Stormed away from the gala.

Quinn's voice called after me, a soft echo of concern and confusion. I didn't stop. I couldn't. If I stayed, if I looked at her, I would've snapped—right there, in front of everyone.

I needed space. Air. Distance.

The forest loomed ahead, dark and inviting. My breath came in ragged gasps as I stumbled through the tree line, the world blurring around me. My vision was clouded by fury… and something else. Something I didn't dare name.

It wasn't even a conscious thought. One moment I was in human form; the next, I was a wolf—massive, wild, and completely out of control. My fur bristled, the primal rage fueling every step as I tore through the forest like a beast possessed.

Trees blurred past in a haze of green and brown. The wind lashed against my face, sharp and unforgiving. I pushed harder, faster, as if I could outrun the thoughts screaming inside my head.

But you can't outrun your own mind.

Cale. The bastard. He had her. He touched her. He marked her. He claimed her.

A howl ripped from my throat—raw, guttural, and full of everything I couldn't say. It echoed through the forest, scattering birds from the trees. The night fell silent, the air heavy with the presence of something dangerous.

I ran until my muscles burned, until my paws ached with every step. The moon hung high above, cold and indifferent, casting its silver light over the clearing I stumbled into.

Finally. Stillness.

I shifted back—human again.

Naked. Exposed. Vulnerable.

I stood there, breathing hard, the night air cold against my skin. Every breath hurt, each one a reminder of the chaos inside me.

I made my way home slowly, each step feeling heavier than the last. My bare feet crunched against twigs and leaves, the sounds sharp in the silence of the night. The pack house loomed ahead, dark and quiet.

I pushed through the front door, the familiar scent of home doing nothing to calm me. My body ached with exhaustion, but my mind wouldn't rest.

I walked in my office and shut the door behind me, sealing myself in with my rage…then, I unleashed.

Books flew from shelves, pages scattering like dead leaves in a storm. Papers were torn and crumpled, their contents meaningless. The lamp shattered against the wall, shards of glass raining down. The chair splintered under my grip, its frame snapping like a twig.

The desk? It didn't stand a chance. I flipped it over, the heavy wood crashing against the floor with a loud, satisfying thud.

But it wasn't enough. None of it was enough to quiet the inferno burning inside me.

I leaned against the wall, my breath ragged, chest heaving. Slowly, I slid down until I was sitting on the cold floor, knees pulled up, head resting back against the unforgiving surface.

And for the first time in a long time…

I broke.

Tears. Hot, relentless, unstoppable. They burned as they fell, each one a bitter reminder of everything I had lost. Of what I couldn't protect. Of her. I hadn't heard my own cries outloud in a long time – they were so unfamiliar yet so sad. The wails of a broken Alpha crying over his lost mate but she didn't seem lost – just stolen.

"Luca."

I didn't lift my head. I knew that voice. Marcus. My best friend. My brother in everything but blood.

He walked in quietly, the floor creaking under his weight. No words. No questions. Just presence.

I felt him crouch beside me, his hand landing on my shoulder—firm, steady, grounding. Comforting.

He didn't say anything. Didn't need to. Instead, he held out a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Simple and Clean.

I took them silently, pulling them on without a word. The fabric felt foreign against my skin, like it didn't belong. Like I didn't belong.

By the time I was dressed, Marcus had settled on the floor next to me, his back against the same wall, legs stretched out in front of him.

"Your dad's back," Marcus said quietly, almost cautiously.

I didn't react at first. But then— heavy footsteps that had purpose… probably to piss me off.

The door creaked open, and there he was. My father. Former Alpha of the pack.

His eyes scanned the wreckage of my office before landing on me.

"Well," he said, a smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I see you've finally tapped into that anger. Good. You'll need it."

I stood slowly, my movements deliberate.

Marcus shifted beside me but stayed seated, watching, waiting.

"Quinn," my father continued, his tone dripping with mockery. "She's made you weak. But don't worry. Your new Luna will make you strong again. She'll give you power. Together, you'll lead this pack the way you were meant to."

The words snapped something inside me.

I saw red.

Before I realized it, I had him pinned against the wall, my forearm pressing against his throat.

"You don't get to talk about her," I growled, my voice low and dangerous.

His smirk didn't falter. "This is the alpha I raised," he said, his voice strained but smug. "This is the strength you need to lead. Use it. Channel it. And forget about that girl. She's nothing compared to what you'll have."

I released him abruptly, stepping back. He stumbled but caught himself, straightening his jacket with infuriating calm.

"This isn't over, Luca," he said, his eyes gleaming with something dark and twisted. "Everything I've done is for the pack. For you."

He turned and walked out, leaving me standing in the wreckage of my office, my fists clenched, my jaw tight.

Marcus stood slowly, his gaze steady on me.

"What now?" he asked quietly.

I took a deep breath, the tension still coiling in my chest.

"Bring Crissy to me," I said, my voice flat, devoid of emotion.