Page 45 of Claiming His Rejected Mate

The man in front of me reaches for my waist, his hands too bold, too presumptuous. My stomach churns, revulsion rising in my throat, but I don’t move.

Kieran does.

He’s there in an instant, his hand wrapping around the man’s wrist with enough force to make him flinch. “She’s done,” Kieran says, his voice low and dangerous.

The man stumbles back, muttering something under his breath before disappearing into the crowd.

Kieran turns to me, his eyes blazing as he steps closer. The heatradiating off him is suffocating, his presence consuming every inch of space between us.

“What the hell are you doing?” he growls, his voice barely audible over the pounding music.

“Dancing,” I snap, my chest heaving as I glare up at him.

He steps closer, his hand brushing against my arm as if testing the boundary between us. “With him?”

“Why do you care?” I bite back, the tension between us crackling like a live wire.

His jaw tightens, his gaze dropping to my lips before snapping back to my eyes. “You know why.”

My body, like a switch, is oozing wetness for him. His casual, firm dominance, the way he doesn’t say more than he needs to. The way he’s holding me close and also making sure everyone here knows I’m his makes my core tight. I feel the gush and how wet my panties are right now.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” I say instead, my voice shaking slightly, not wanting him to be distracted by my body betraying me.

“No,” he agrees, his voice low. “But that doesn’t mean I’ll stand by and watch.”

The heat between us is growing unbearable as the music fades into the background. His hand moves to my waist, his touch firm but not forceful, and I feel myself leaning into him despite every instinct screaming at me to pull away.

Our bodies move together, the rhythm of the music syncing with the tension between us. His grip tightens, his other hand brushing against my arm as he pulls me closer.

“You drive me insane,” he mutters, his breath hot against my ear.

“Good,” I purr.

His lips graze my ear, the sensation sending a shiver down my spine. My wolf snarls, her desire and defiance warring inside me as the bond flares, its pull overwhelming.

“Kieran,” I whisper, my voice trembling.

He doesn’t respond, his grip on me unrelenting as his lips trail down to my neck. My breath catches, my hands clutching his shirt as I fight to stay grounded.

And then the nausea hits.

It starts as a dull ache in my stomach, a sensation that quickly grows into a tidal wave of discomfort. The heat, the noise, the press of bodies—it all becomes too much.

I push against Kieran’s chest, my voice strained. “I need—”

Before I can finish, I double over, the nausea overtaking me.

“Hazel?” Kieran’s voice sharpens, concern cutting through the tension as he steadies me.

I wave him off, stumbling toward the edge of the dance floor. The fresh air near the exit is a welcome relief, but it’s not enough to stave off the inevitable.

I find a trash can just in time, the contents of my stomach spilling out as I clutch the edge for support.

What a way to end my night.

Chapter 14

Kieran