Page 97 of Savage Surrender

“You think I don’t know what you can do?”

“What I can do ends when it stops being fun for you.”

He flips us around and traps me against the wall, his much larger body closing around mine. He pins my hands on either side of my head, and the pressure of an alpha holding me down quiets my omega for just one second.

I buck against him. “Get the fuck off me.”

“If Charles offered Colleen for you, you’d hand yourself over before Freddie could stop you. We can’t have that.”

I twist against his grip. Pain bites through my knuckles and up my wrist, but he doesn’t give me enough room to hit him again.

“Then you tell me to my face. You don’t stand by while Weller fucks me unconscious so you don’t have to deal with me.”

Tristan’s mouth flinches at one corner.

“I told them you deserved the truth.”

“And then you kept it from me.”

His grip loosens, but he doesn’t let go. “I wasn’t going to let you go either way, Bianca.”

“Were you planning to restrain me?”

His eyes don’t leave mine. “If I had to.”

I turn one wrist hard toward his thumb and rip it free. When he shifts to catch me, the other follows. I shove him away and stumble over the towel.

The soft music continues downstairs.

I snatch the note off the wet floor, shoulder past Tristan, and storm into the kitchen.

Weller is still cooking fucking breakfast.

He turns from the stove and his eyes move over my face while Tristan fills the doorway behind me. He switches off the music, and the violin dies abruptly.

“Bianca.”

“Did you have this all planned out before I fell asleep on your knot?”

His hand starts toward the bite on his neck, then stops. “Yes.”

Weller turns off the burner, moves the hot pan to the back of the stove, and puts down the tongs. He wipes his hands on a kitchen towel.

“Was that a strategic move, Weller? Pacifying the omega with cock until she is knocked out and can’t argue with you?”

“I always want you.”

“Wasn’t my question.”

His fingers curl against the edge of the counter. “Yes, I knew you would sleep better and be less likely to wake up when they left.”

For a second I can only stare at him. There is a raw little ache where my body stretched around him while I begged for more. I loved it, and that might be the part I hate most.

“You’re an asshole.”

Weller comes around the island, and I hold my hands up.

“Remember that whole conversation we all had about honesty—telling each other everything?” I slap Owen’s note onto the counter. The wet paper tears beneath my palm.