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I rubbed at my chest.Sutton was pissed at me now, sure, but I could manage this fucked-up situation.I could manage Sutton’s emotions.She’d get over what happened at the clubhouse, and I could control my animal need to fuck her.I could do both for as long as I needed to, just as long as she kept sending me those photos.

My thumb hovered over my phone.I just needed one more picture, then I’d leave her alone.Then I’d be done.

Jagger:Pic?Smelled blood on you.Is it just your lip?Need proof you’re okay.

I hit send and waited.

The little icon with a picture of Sutton and her familiar dropped down beside the message, letting me know she’d seen it.

Three little dots appeared.

She was doing it.I blew out a rough breath as the tension making every muscle in my body knot eased up a little.

A message popped up, not a photo.

Sutton:Sorry, Charming, you can source your wank-bank pics elsewhere from now on.

Then a picture did pop up, but it was of her hand—flipping me off.

Nothing about her response was Sutton.She wasn’t aggressive, she wasn’t quick to temper, and when she did get fired up, it was awkward because that just wasn’t her nature.I understood anger, and right now that’s what she seemed to be feeling.Why?Yes, she’d been upset when she’d left the clubhouse, but I hadn’t done anything wrong.Relic said I hurt her feelings, but she said herself she was confused.

The photo vanished, again, followed by the message.

She’d deleted them.That didn’t surprise me, despite what happened between us.Sutton was too sweet to send something like that?—

“What the fuck?”The photo she’d sent me a week ago vanished as well, the one with her standing in front of the mirror, making a face.That was one of my favorites.

Then the next vanished, and the next.

One by one her photos and messages disappeared.I jumped to my feet, my heart pounding, my stomach clenching tight.Her little updates, telling me about her day, what she’d been doing, how work was going, they were all being deleted as well.Shaking my phone, I roared at it, stabbing at the screen, as if that could stop what was happening.She was deleting them all, months’ worth of messages and photos—until there was nothing left.

Until she’d taken everything she’d given me away.

A pounding filled my ears as blood flooded my extremities.I curled my fingers into tight fists when my skin flushed hot.My chest, it felt weird—there was pain.I couldn’t breathe.I couldn’t fucking swallow.

What the fuck was wrong with me?Why did I feel this way?Why did I feel any-fucking-thing?They were just photos—they were just silly fucking messages.

If that’s all it was, then why did it feel as if I were coming apart, as if my world had been torn out from under me?

It was barely daybreak when I rolled up to the little cottage on the outskirts of Linville, only a short ride from the clubhouse.

Grabbing the bags from the back of the truck, I strode up to the front door.I’d cut most of one stag into steaks, and a few larger pieces for roasting.There was enough here to last a good long while.

The sound of a guitar, of Lenny’s soft voice singing, stopped abruptly when I knocked.

A moment later, the curtains twitched, and one big brown eye peered at me through the small gap.I lifted the bags.“Venison.Thought your freezer might be getting low?”Lothar said he’d keep an eye on the place, and it looked like he’d taken care of the yard while I’d been gone, but the skittish little female was my responsibility, no one else’s.

The curtain dropped, and her light tread could be heard through the door as she approached.“Okay…uh, thanks,” she said through the wood.

She wasn’t going to let me in, she never did.I put the bags down in front of the door, planted my hands on my hips, and looked at my boots, knowing she’d be watching me through the peephole and not wanting to freak her out by staring back.“You need anything else, Lenny?”

“No, thank you.”

I nodded.“Okay, babe, you got my number if you need anything, yeah?”

“Yes.”

“I’m gonna head off, but you call if you need me.”