Page 6

The crowd closed in, and I lost sight of Jagger.

I spun away, running for the door, and tripped in my stupid fucking heels, hitting the ground hard.

My bag went flying, all my things, my clothes and toothbrush and all the other crap I’d brought went scattering all over the floor.

Boo exploded from under my coat, chirping and flapping above me, terrified.

“Oh, honey,” Fern said, crouching beside me and yanking down my dress that had flown up. There was pain, pity in my best friend’s voice.

The alpha’s mate, Willow, rushed over to help Fern gather my things, as I frantically stuffed everything back in.

I tasted blood. My lip had to be split, and I guessed a couple layers of skin had come off my knee from the old rug. My face burned with humiliation as I scrambled to my feet, calling Boo back to me. He was fragile. Gods, I could have crushed him. He could be hurt.

“You’re bleeding. Come with me,” Willow said.

I shook my head and held my hand out for Boo, and finally, he came to me. I held him close while he trembled against me. I needed to check if he was okay.

Those females, they were still filming, following me, laughing, cringing at the way I looked.

I had to get out of there right the hell now.

“No, I—I’m fine. Thank you, though,” I said and forced another smile, then spun and ran for the exit, ignoring Fern calling my name as I shoved through the crowd, finally bursting through the door and out to the parking lot.

“You change your mind, babe?” Brick said, walking toward the main doors that I’d just fled through.

I ignored him calling after me as I rushed past and ran to my car.

As I started the engine, I tried to catch my breath, dangerously close to hyperventilating.

I slid my hand over Boo’s little body, and he chirped softly.

If he was in pain, I’d feel it. He’d calmed and, thank the goddess, seemed okay.

I dragged in another steadying breath, and when I was sure I wouldn’t pass out, I looked up.

A massive hound was outlined in the doorway.

Jagger.

He was watching me.

I stared back, fighting the tears stinging the backs of my eyes. Oh gods, he didn’t want me. Stuff it down . Do not cry. Not again. The tears spilled over. Shit . I was such a damned idiot. I would never, ever allow myself to be that vulnerable again, not for anyone.

Jagger started toward me, striding across the lot.

I threw my car into drive—the engine stalled.

Fuck. I tried to start it again, and nothing happened. I spun back to Jagger and his hand was lifted, aimed at me. He’d used his powers to stop my freaking car. I tried again, but the engine was completely dead.

He strode up to my window, and crooked his finger at me to get out. I didn’t move, I couldn’t. “Sutton, get out of the car.”

I shook my head.

The window came down, all on its own.

I gripped the steering wheel. “I want to leave.”

His big hands gripped the door through the open window. “What the fuck was that?” He sounded pissed off.

I spun to him, my heart in my throat. “I told you, I was confused. Now can you let me leave?”

He jerked back. “Are you fucking crying?” He thrust his fingers through his hair. “Told you I hate that shit, female.”

“I’m not crying because of you,” I lied even though it was humiliatingly obvious.

“No?”

“No.”

He stared at me, hard. “I’m not your mate.”

“Okay,” I said.

“Fuck,” he snarled. “Not sure where you came up with that bullshit, but there is no fucking way we’re mates.”

The look on his face was one of utter denial, of outright horror, maybe even disgust at the idea, and I wanted to curl up into a ball and puke. “Got it, Jagger, loud and clear. Can I leave now?”

He stared at me for several more, long seconds, then finally, he let go of my door and stepped back.

I turned my key, and this time, finally, the engine started. Without looking his way again, I threw the car back into drive and tore out, almost taking the gate with me when the hound now guarding it nearly didn’t get it open in time.

Oh gods, I felt sick.

I didn’t head for home. I couldn’t face it. Fern would have called Phoebe by now. She was probably already waiting for me, to check I was okay. I couldn’t talk to either of them, not yet. So instead, I headed to the clinic.

By the time I pulled into the parking lot, I was trembling uncontrollably.

I practiced my breathing, worked at calming myself down so when I swiped my key card and let myself in, the red haze had gone, my claws had retracted, and I’d changed back.

There were a couple rooms here for staff, and thankfully, no one was at the front desk when I walked in, so I didn’t have to talk to anyone.

I’d put my phone on silent, but it’d been lighting up since I left the clubhouse. I pulled it from my pocket now and scrolled the texts. All from Fern and Phoebe.

I realized Fern had replied to me after I told her I was on my way to the clubhouse. I’d missed it while I was driving. S he’d told me not to come, that it wasn’t a good time.

She’d been trying to protect me. To stop me from walking in on Jagger with some other female and, despite what I knew to be true, living his life like I didn’t exist. Kind of like he had been for the last few months.

I slid off my coat, putting Boo in the pocket, and hung it up, then lay on the bed. I knew I shouldn’t, but I opened Nightscape with a sick feeling in my belly and searched for the female he’d been with. I knew her name. She and the others filming me were regulars at the clubhouse.

I gasped in a horrified breath. She’d posted a video of me.

I knew she would. I couldn’t stop myself from clicking play.

I watched as I stammered, telling the female touching Jagger to stop, while my face transformed, the veins in my neck and cheeks turning black, then pooling beneath my eyes, watching as the whites of my eyes turned black as well, while my irises shone red.

The wolf shifters’ commentary played along in the background, calling me a freak and desperate as I told Jagger I was his mate. It even showed me falling, my dress flying up, flashing my new underwear. Blood poured from my lip as Fern and Willow helped me gather all my things.

I couldn’t see Jagger, people had crowded in between me and the table he’d been standing at—then a big hand covered the camera and everything went dark, and a gruff voice, one of the hounds, growled at her to get the fuck out and not to come back.

Turning off my phone, I tossed it on the floor, shaking and sobbing as the same words repeated over and over in my head:

He doesn’t want you either.