Page 51 of Betrayed

I wander through the empty halls untilIfinally find my bedroom.Itlooks the same way it did beforeIleft for prison.Iused to lay on the thin, dirty mattress in my cell and dream of the hugeCaliforniaKing-sized bed in the middle of this room.Ithas a luxurious memory foam topped mattress and it’s covered in a designer dark green and brown comforter with gold trim—the epitome of comfort and quiet luxury.

I’m looking at my bed but not seeing it.Instead,I’mthinking ofSunny’sbed with its cheerful patchwork quilt made by herNan.Ithink of holding her in it, caressing her and spooning her small, curvy body, kissing her, making her come…

I make myself stop picturing the past.I’llnever hold her again.

I look at the bed once more.Rightnow,Icouldn’t care less whereIsleep.Ifeel like my heart has been torn out andIdon’t give a fuck ifIeven wake up the next morning.

I’ve been driving for hours andIneed a shower.ButifItake one,I’llwash the last ofSunny’sscent off my skin—Ican’t fucking bear to do that.

I fall into bed, dirty and miserable, and try to get some sleep.Butevery timeIclose my eyesIsee her—her beautiful face and big, gorgeous eyes, her sweet, kissable mouth and the freckles on the bridge of her nose.Ikeep remembering how kind she was—and how she could get bossy in that adorable way of hers.

I wishIcould hold her in my arms just one more time.IwishIcould explain what really happened and apologize for fucking up her life, butI’mafraid she won’t want any contact with me at all now.Hell, she doesn’t even know whoIam!Shejust knows me as some guy who impersonated her brother.

I need to let her go—to leave her alone.ButI’malmost sure she really is aRepressedOmega.Ineed to let her know what’s going to start happening to her—she’s going to have aHeatCycleand her breasts are going to fill with nectar.Hell, she’s going to need to be bred—her desire for male seed, both in her pussy and in her mouth, is going to be insatiable.

Sunny needs to know what’s heading her way like a freight train barreling down the tracks she’s tied to.

But why would she believe anythingIsay now?I’ma liar and a cheat and a murderer to her.Ican’t believe that fuckingCharleseven dug up my charge!ThoughI’msure he didn’t get into the details of whoIkilled and why.Ihad a fucking good reason for whatIdid.

I can’t just send her a letter explaining she hasWerewolfblood in her.She’sbeen raised as a human—she’ll thinkI’mcrazy.Hell, she probably already thinks that.Whoelse but a crazy person would pretend to be someone else’s brother for two long years?She’llprobably rip up anythingIsend her or delete any emails or texts.She’snot going to want to hear from me again at all.

My brain goes on like that, all fucking night.IswearIdon’t get a wink of sleep.Bythe timeIcallBransonand ask him to come over the next day,Ifeel more exhausted thanIever have in my life.Evenmy first day of prison wasn’t this hard—and believe me, it was fuckingrough.

My fatigue and misery must show on my face becauseBransontakes one glance at me and looks extremely concerned.

“Mr.Lowell…Connor.Whathappened?” he asks. “Ifyou don’t mind me saying so, you lookterrible.Didsomething go amiss with your errand?”

“You could say that,”Isay grimly. “Thewhole situation went straight toHell,Branson.”

“Ah,Isee.”Hecomes into the mansion’s study and sits down in one of the leather wingback chairs.Allaround us are shelves full of leather-bound books.Thiswas my father’s favorite room in the house when he was still alive.

I sit across from him, looking into the empty fireplace but seeing nothing butSunny’sface.

“Would you care to discuss it,Sir?”Bransonasks. “Youknow your business will be kept in strictest confidence.Sometimesone just needs to talk.”

Branson is right—Idoneed to talk.Itell him everything.HowIstarted writing toSunnyin the first place…howIonly meant to stop bySingingRockfor an hour or two and how an hour stretched into a day and a night and the rest of the timeIwas there.

“I fell in love with her,Branson,”Iadmit heavily. “ButIfucked it all up.Herfucking boyfriend found out my real identity and came and told her.Shekicked me out—can’t say thatIblame her.”

“I see.”Bransonis quiet for a long time andIdon’t rush his thoughts.I’mtoo busy staring into the fireplace and wishingIcould seeSunny, just one more time.

“So you say that you think she might be aRepressedOmega?” he asks at last.Bransonisn’t aWere—he’s pure human.Butmy father trusted him implicitly, so he knows all our family secrets as well as our history asWeres.

“Yes,Ithink she really could be,”Isay. “IfI’mright, her firstHeatCycleis on the way and she’s going to need to be bred.”

“That could be an opportunity for you,Sir,”Bransonpoints out. “Ifshe reaches a certain point where her, er,needoutweighs her aversion, you might be able to reason with her then.”

“There’s no reasoning with aWerebitch in heat,Branson,”Isay flatly. “There’snothing but fucking—breeding.AndIdon’t want to do that to her without explaining what happened first.”

“But you fear she won’t want to speak to you or read any letters or emails you send?” he asks.

I shake my head.

“Sunny doesn’t like liars.Shehates me now for whatIdid andIdon’t really blame her.She’ssweet, but she can hold a grudge.Idon’t think she’ll forgive me.”

“Well, it seems to me that all we can do is watch the situation and keep an eye on her to see if she starts exhibiting outward signs of havingWereblood,”Bransonsays.

“That’s whatIwas trying to do.”Irake a hand through my hair. “Iwas waiting to see if her breasts filled with nectar.Ifthey did,Iwas going to explain everything to her—not just theWerepart but also the fact thatIwasn’t really her brother.”

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