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“I’m sorry.”
She blinks at me and takes a step back. “You can do whatever you want with your apology, but I don’t accept it.”
Aurora turns and runs back to the house. I grunt and follow her, my eyes on the curve of her back and that perky ass of hers, and I am hard.
She slams the door in my face, making my lips twitch. She’s the sweetest wolf pup with teeth.
I open it, and for one moment, I debate if I should follow her and demand she sleep next to me, but I doubt that will help my case.
I shed my clothes and take a lukewarm shower, the images of her heating my blood.
Who the fuck is the man she talked to? If he comes near her again, he’s dead.
Aurora is mine. No one else’s but mine. There is nothing I wouldn’t do to make sure she stays here with me, where she is safe.
I try to hold on to the anger, and most of the time it works. But there are moments when we see each other and his nearness switches something in me. Then I remember. I always remember, and it deflates me.
It’s been a week since he injected me with the chip, and we run together every night. I was hoping Daniel would be my guard, but he’s been away. So, I am left with him. My husband, my captor.
I ignore him as best I can.
I should want nothing from him, especially his attention, yet I crave it. He put a chip in me. That alone should make me hate him, but what I feel toward him is even more complex.
I am more confused than anything. He’s so complicated, and I do not know how to reason with his behavior. If I wanted him to give me answers, he would. But do I want to hear them? Not knowing keeps my walls up by sheer will. I don’t want them to fall again at his feet.
I call Chiara and she curses. “That fucking bastard moved the wedding up to next week. He won’t know what hit him.”
“Wait, what?”
“Didn’t you know?”
“We’re not on speaking terms.”
“Please be there. I don’t know if I can do this without you.”
“Of course, I will.”
When we hang up, I change into my running gear, and like every night, Kieran waits for me outside. I pass by him with squared shoulders.
We run side by side, the silence stretching between us like a rubber band. I come to a complete stop.
“Why?” I ask.
He could answer in so many different ways, but if he knows me even a bit, he will know what I mean.
“I had to.”
“I see.”
His answer sets a weight full of disappointment on my chest. “But do you? I don’t think so. I would do anything to protect you, but also keep you.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “This might have started as a favor to your brother, but I want to make it real. I want us to try.”
“I thought I was a lamb, and you needed a queen.”
Hearing him that night crushed the dreams of that little girl who worshiped the ground he walked on. What a sobering wake-up call. It was then that something shifted in me. And I’m petty enough to hold on to that feeling of misery.
“I was mistaken.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.”
