Page 7 of The Bunny Blues

My parents had been horrified to find me covered in flour and kneading a loaf of bread when I was six. They only spoke to me at dinner, and the rest of the day, I was left in the care of teachers or house staff, so I wasn’t sure why they were upset to find me in the kitchen.

Actually, I did know why they’d been upset.

Unexpected company had dropped by, and they’d wanted to parade me in front of them… all to add to the illusion of having a perfect life everyone should be envious of.

After that experience, I’d continued to bake and help Mark, our chef, prepare meals. But I’d been more cautious about staying clean and stayed away from the kitchen whenever we had company.

A grin spread across my face as I thought of my mother’s reaction if she knew I’d taken over most of the cleaning and cooking at my fluffle’s mansion. I didn’t care what she thought; I wanted to take care of my mates.

Footsteps above my head told me the men were stirring and would be down to eat soon. Hurrying around the kitchen, I placed the biscuits on an oversized plate and sat bowls of peppered gravy, three-cheese scrambled eggs, and diced potatoes in the center of the table.

I’d just finished setting the table when their footsteps echoed on the wooden staircase. Taking a deep breath, I made sure to hide any traces of my sadness and forced a bright smile onto my face.

A smile that faded the instant my eyes landed on the woman being led into the dining room on Edward’s arm.

Clarice.

Like a punch to my gut, I realized I hadn’t dreamed the sound of a woman’s laughter the night before. It had been humiliating to have Edward shower her with attention in front of the burrow, but it was nothing compared to knowing she’d been in my home… and in my mate’s bed.

“It smells amazing,” Henry rumbled, his voice still heavy from sleep.

He walked by me without so much as a peck on the cheek. All four men ignored me, their attention on the table.

It would have bothered me if my body hadn’t been turned to stone by the woman acting as though she had every right to be in the house in nothing more than a silk gown.

“There are only five seats,” Edward commented, his hand resting on the back of his chair as he studied the table.

“That’s okay, I have a seat for Clarice.” Scooting back his chair, Henry pulled her onto his lap.

Clarice laughed, and the sound caused my throat to tighten until I could barely breathe.

“She’s my guest,” Edward growled, sitting down in his seat.

“But sharing is caring.” A smirk spread across Henry’s handsome face. “Besides, Clarice likes it when we share her.”

“Henry!” Clarice gasped in mock embarrassment.

She pressed her palm to his chest, and the movement caused her robe to fall open slightly. All four of my mates’ gazes were instantly drawn to the creamy skin of her cleavage that had been exposed.

A tremor traveled through my body, and emotions I’d locked away began battering at the door, holding them back.

I wasn’t an idiot. The guys weren’t looking at Clarice with love. They were eyeing her like horny dogs with a bone, or more accurately, boners.

It was the lust mixed with genuine affection that finally broke me. I was their matched, yet they couldn’t be bothered to treat me with a shred of decency.

Once a shifter has claimed their mate, it is nearly impossible for them to fall out of love with that mate, or mates. I’d been hurt countless times by how the men treated me, but my inner bunny had refused to see them as anything less than wonderful. They were her mates, even if they hadn’t claimed us back.

Last night, watching Edward interact with Clarice had shaken her, but she’d still believed he would honor the fact we were matched.

Standing in the kitchen, watching our mates interact with another female while barely acknowledging our existence, was the final straw. We both gave up that hope our mates would ever learn to love anyone but themselves.

These men had accomplished the impossible.

They’d caused my inner animal to fall out of love.

The sobs of both my human and animalistic shifter tore through my mind, releasing a torrent of pent-up fury and heartache.

Lifting my chin, I spoke. “She can have my seat.” To my surprise, even with the deluge of emotions threatening my sanity, my tone was flat and utterly emotionless.

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