Page 92 of Pretty Little Prey
“Did you fuck this man, lamb?” Bastille grated into her ear.
The longer he held her away from the blood, the more her mind began to clear.
But then, he shook her. “Did you fuck him?” he shouted.
“N-No!” But she had been about to. A second away from sinking onto his hard cock and riding it into the waves of ecstasy as she drank his blood.
She tasted someone’sblood. Drank it.
She could have killed him.
Her stomach turned. Her face went white.
“Oh shit, she’s just now realizing what she is.”
Rage. Inhuman rage.
She screamed as she wrapped her hands around Bastille’s neck, trying to choke him.
“Lamb!” Bastille held her farther from himself, her arms too short to reach him. “You attack your mate?”
“Want to kill him,” Kobe growled from where he loomed over the bleeding male worker. Considering Kobe’s massive height, he would loom over anyone.
“Kobe, she didn’t mean to touch him. Drinking blood—”
The werewolf’s lips stretched to flash threatening, sharp teeth. “He smells like her.”
“Agreed. Let’s kill him,” Bastille said evenly.
Gaining back her clarity, Luna quickly threw out her arms to try to slap against Bastille. “No!”
“He touched you,” the basilisk king said. “I want to snap his neck.”
“I want to snapyourneck,” she shouted back at him.
His mouth fell open. “What did I do, lamb?”
“What did you do? WHAT did YOU DO?” she shrieked.
“Fuck, her emotions are heightened due to the change,” Nikolai said.
“I HATE YOU.”
Chapter 36
Bastille’s heart froze in his chest.
“I HATE YOU,” his mate screamed at him.
I hate you. He could not breathe.She hates me?
In his shock, his grip loosened, and his mate sank to her knees on the floor, sobbing.
She cries again? Because of me?Witnessing his mate crying was like cutting his own heart out with nothing but uneven shards of broken glass.
Nikolai quickly threw the server out of the room and shut the door in his face, locking it.
Kobe’s chest rumbled with broken, muffled howls as he watched his mate cry. Pained expressions claimed the faces of each of the men.
