Page 85 of Wolf's Reckoning
“I’m not a whore,” she spat with venom.
“Princess,” I tsked. “No one implied you were.”
“I don’t want to sleep in the same bed as you,” Rowen told me through a clenched jaw.
I shrugged, leaning back, putting my hands behind my head as I watched her. “Fine. Sleep on the floor.”
She faced me then, and her eyes—Goddess, her eyes—were sharp enough to flay a lesser man.
“I am not sleeping on the floor!”
I grinned. “These are your options,” I said, my voice smooth. “Your only options. You sleep in this bed with me, or you sleep on the floor in the same room as me. You will wear my scent,wife, so the backward fuckers in this pack know you’re my wife in more than name.” I held her furious glare. “The alternative is I throw you on this bed and fuck you right now until you’re swimming in my scent. Your choice.”
“That isn’t even a choice,” she hissed at me, her body practically vibrating with anger. “You disgusting pig.”
I got to my feet smoothly. “I sleep on the left,” I told her as I walked to the door. When I was beside her, I inhaled deeply, scenting her temper but also a hint of something soft, spicier. “Mm-hmm, princess,” I murmured, my lips at her ear. “Someone isn’t as outraged as they pretend.” I dipped my head into the crook of her neck, feeling her stiffen at the movement. “Was it someone in this pack that took what was mine?” I asked her softly.
“Wh-what?” Rowen asked, her body humming with confusion.
“The lucky bastard that fucked you first.” My lips skimmed over the column of her throat. “Who was it?”
Rowen’s chest was rising and falling faster, her scent amix of fury and the tanginess of her arousal, an arousal she was fighting. “It’s none of your fucking business.”
She flinched when my hand ran down her back, over the curve of her hip, until I cupped her ass. “It was always my business,” I murmured, desire pulsing through me, much to my ire. “I tasted you first, princess, remember?”
Her whole body was rigid, but her voice was calm. “I don’t remember much about you at all, Wolfe.”
Pretty little liar.
“Well, I’ll need to change that,” I promised her as I stepped back. “I changed my mind,” I told her, seeing the flare of hope in her eyes. “No choices, you sleep with me in the bed.”
The speed with which she schooled her features should have had her pack groveling on their bellies for thinking she was anything less than a fucking leader.
“Fine,” she said coolly, turning her back to me. “But don’t expect civility.”
“I never do,” I said, closing the distance until I was pressed against her. “But I always enjoy earning it.”
“Don’t hold your breath,” she whispered lowly. “Actually, do. You’ll suffocate before you have it.”
I wanted to laugh with delight as she fought me. But instead I said, “Dinner in thirty. You’ll sit beside me.”
“Another warning?”
I met her gaze. “Another promise.”
Then I left her standing there—angry, beautiful, burning in my room—because if I didn’t, I was going to forget this wasn’t real and kiss her like she’d already claimed my soul. But I wouldn’t. I gave her my heart years ago, and she’d just reminded me I meant nothing to her then.
I’d be the one to break her this time. Mark my words.
Chapter 21
Rowen
My head was reeling.
My heart was thumping, and I felt like I hadn’t had time to breathe since I’d been made to pack my things. I’d done as he directed because he had just stood up for me in front of everyone in a way no one ever had. Not even my dad, and it pained me to admit it.
So I had come to my rooms and began to pack my things. I’d shoved the majority of my clothes into a leather pack and cinched the tie hard enough to snap it. I’d stepped out of my rooms into the corridor, bag over my shoulder. Pack lingered in corners. Whispered. Watched. Their eyes weren’t fearful, not anymore. They werecurious.
