Page 36 of Betrayed Pregnant Mate

She has her hand on the door to the apartment when I catch up to her.

“Veronica,” I say, reaching out to touch her, “I’m sorry—”

“Don’t touch me,” she snaps, yanking away from me, her dark eyes blazing when she looks at me. “Out of everything,” she says, her voice breaking. “This hurts the worse. I just want you to know that.”

“I—I’m sorry,” I stammer, “I just needed some air, and I shouldn’t have walked off like that—”

“Seriously?” she says, rearing her head back and blinking at me. “I am not mad that you left—I mean, I’m a little mad about that, but I just found out about your lie, Percy, and that fucking sucks.”

“My lie?” I parrot, feeling completely out of my element.

“Yes,” she says, her expression hurt, her lip wobbling a bit, then holding strong. “When were you going to tell me that we’re mates?”

Chapter 17 - Veronica

I watch Percy’s face transform as he realizes what I’m upset about. His eyes go wide, and he lets out a shuddering breath, taking a step toward me.

“No,” I say, shaking my head, “do not come near me.”

“I’m sorry,” he says, his voice low. “I just—can we go inside? To talk?”

My traitorous body wants nothing more than to go inside with him, but it doesn’t want to talk. It wants him to bend me over the side of the kitchen table and fuck me until I can’t think straight—but my brain is having none of that.

He lied to me.

“Fine,” I manage to get out, turning and struggling with the lock for so long that Percy steps forward, his fingers brushing mine as he takes the key, slipping it in and unlocking it easily. Normally, in this situation, one of us would joke about finally getting it in, but it would be half-hearted at best and horribly wrong at worst.

I follow him up the stairs and watch as he crosses the living room, bypassing the couch altogether and sitting on the floor, his back against the wall under the window.

“I should have told you,” he says, after I stand there, staring at him, with my arms crossed, for a long, painful moment. I’m looking at this man and not wanting to see a liar, not wanting to see someone who doesn’t tell me the truth. My heart is still so bursting full of love for him.

“I could die?” I ask, my voice cracking. “If you die?”

“Yeah,” he says, and when he looks at me, his expression is so full of pain that I know it’s true.

“What the fuck, Percy?” I ask, full-on crying now. I turn away from him, unable to stand how sad he looks, and how badly I want to go to him, comfort him. I’m the one who needs comforting now.

“I—I was trying to resist it, Veronica, if you remember, I was saying no. I was prepared to die to keep that from happening.”

“But why didn’t you say something to Maisie?” I half-say, half-scream, turning around and throwing my hands in the air. A sob rips through me. “If you’d told her, maybe she wouldn’t have done this to me.”

I wave my hand in the air, but when I turn to look at it, I realize the angry red line that had been there just yesterday is gone, and in a sobering moment, I lower it, running a hand over my palm, my heavy breaths moving my body.

“Because,” Percy says, his voice low. “If I told Maisie that my mate was a human, it would be confirmation that I’m a fucking monster.”

“What?” I say, tearing my gaze away from my palm and really focusing on him for the first time. He looks miserable, his entire posture slumped, and my heart squeezes, a flood of guilt and grief moving in, shame close on its heels.

“A monster,” Percy says, letting out a sarcastic laugh and tipping his head up, looking at the ceiling. “That’s what I am. When you do the things I’ve done, you’re despicable. I just wish that I’d managed to kill myself that day in the woods.”

“Hey,” I say, the word coming out as a breath, I fall to my knees in front of him. He shakes his head as I try to take his hands.

“No, Veronica—don’t do this! Be mad at me, be fucking pissed at me, hate me, please. I don’t deserve your care, this empathy or attention, your—” he cuts himself off, and for a terrifying moment, I think he’s about to say love.

“You are not a monster,” I say, shaking my head, tears coming to my eyes.

“In the most literal sense, I am,” he laughs, “the big bad wolf. But even to other wolves, I’m bad.”

“You are not; they love you.”

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