Elisabeth's POV
Andy had never kissed me before. Not even during our mating ceremony. That day, he had simply marked me with clinical coldness, fulfilling an obligation rather than expressing desire.
So when his lips pressed against mine now, shock paralyzed me for a heartbeat. Then revulsion crashed through me like ice water. I shoved against his chest, desperate to break free, but his arms locked tighter around me.
Before I could fight harder, the choice was ripped away.
A blur of movement streaked past me, and suddenly Andy was torn from my grasp. I hit the ground hard as his grip broke, my palms scraping against the polished marble. Looking up, I watched Andy's body sail through the air before slamming into the far wall with a bone-jarring crack. The impact reverberated through the grand ballroom, cutting every conversation short. Collective gasps rose from the crowd like a wave.
