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SIMON

Everything should have been perfect when I brought her to my home. A nest she could make her own. I shoved the bottles into the oversized black garbage bag. Beaumont sprawled across my fucking couch bare ass fucking naked. I shoved his legs off the center table, so I had room to grab the bottles tucked on the other end of the couch.

I snarled at him.

He smirked.

Fucking unreal. The male I swore to kill sat here without a care, and I allowed it. The former aggravation eating my gut every time I thought of him no longer drowned me.

“We’ll have to get along for her sake.”

Not if he was dead. But I could play nice for now. It would serve me best anyway. She couldn’t know I was behind his death when it happened. “Unless you plan to remove yourself from the picture.”

I growled; the glass bottle in my hand shattered. Fortunately, I’d held it over the bag so it landed where it was supposed to.

“She’s mine.”

“And mine,” he retorted, eyes narrowed. “Are you stupid? Our lives are tangled with each other now. Getting over the bullshit is the only choice.”

I clicked my teeth together and finished collecting the bottles and garbage.

Look at me, all domesticated and cleaning up after myself. I tossed it on the front porch.

“Fine,” I said and crossed the space to go to my bedroom at the end of the hall. I shoved inside my room and collected all of my bedding and dumped it in a corner.

Usually one of the pack bitches cleaned up my shit. Looked like things had slacked while I’d been on Beaumont land. I yanked open the closet door and grabbed a clean fitted sheet. I yanked it on, and the edge continued to dangle regardless of how I moved it around.

“You’re putting them on wrong,” Beaumont said.

“You do it then.” I tossed the sheet at him. He strode over and did the exact same thing I had.

“You’re doing amazing.” I raised an eyebrow, watching him repeat what I’d been doing.

“There’s something wrong with this shit,” he mumbled.

The bathroom door across my room opened.

“They’re the wrong size.” Violet’s voice cut through my humor. I stepped back. “They’ll hang off slightly from one side.” She shuffled closer, a towel wrapped around her body and fastened under her arms. She rolled the edge of the sheets, tucking it to the other end.

I watched her work with trancelike focus. The girl was beautiful. Her damp hair swayed around her shoulders. The little punctures on her shoulder caused my cock to swell. She was mine and no one would take her from me.

“There you go,” she said, brushing her hands together. “Now, I’ll head on my way?—”

“You’re not going anywhere,” I said, eyebrows furrowing.

She scowled.

“Why not? You’re no one to tell me what I can do.”

I barked out a laugh.

“I am your mate?—”

“And?” She pressed her lips into a thin line. “Nothing will come of it.” She paused and flicked Beaumont a look. “With either of you.”

My veins became filled with ice. She was rejecting me. I struggled to breathe. She approached the door.

No. She couldn’t leave me—never. Desperation crawled up my throat, and the edges of my vision darkened.