Lord Diego kept a perfectly measured face as he was escorted him from the castle’s central wing. His gait was steady. His eyes, placid. Not even a flicker of emotion marred the surface of his aristocratic mask.
But the moment the doors of his estate slammed shut behind him, his control shattered like thin glass under boot.
He stood frozen for a heartbeat—then let out a roar so violent it made the walls tremble.
“Who the hell does she think she is?!”
He spun and with a feral snarl, seized a golden-framed mirror from the wall and hurled it across the room. It shattered against the stone like shrapnel.
“A chosen mate! A former omega! The lowest bottom of our society! And now she stands beside a prince like a damn queen?”
He tore a heavy velvet drape from the window and ripped it in two,
