Page 106 of Bitten Shifter

What will he do when winter arrives? The cold will be brutal. Yes, his coat will keep him warm, but he is not just a wolf—he is a man. A man reduced to this. I wonder if people are laughing at him, and I worry what this will do to his reputation.

He looks so sad.

I turn away, yank the curtains closed, and flop onto the sofa. The television is still on, but I can’t concentrate.

My fated mate is outside in the rain, and I’m just sitting here. This is bloody ridiculous.

With a frustrated growl, I snatch a fluffy towel from the airing cupboard, stomp down the hall, and grab my keys and building pass. After putting on my trainers, I head downstairs and outside.

“Get in here!” I snap at the wolf.

His head is lowered, tail tucked, the drenched wolf tries to make himself smaller. He is soaked through as he follows me inside.

Matthew watches with wide eyes. I ignore him, throw the towel over Merrick, and dry him off with more vigour than necessary.

“You can’t leave water everywhere—someone might slip. Your stinky fur is dripping,” I grumble, rubbing harder than I need to.

Merrick, of course, does not smell. His coat is glossy and clean, but I don’t want to acknowledge it. He stands patiently, fixing me with those big blue eyes as I work from head to tail.

His tongue lolls out when I dry his belly.

“Shut up,” I mutter.

“Alpha Prime,” Matthew says quietly, bowing his head in respect.

I roll my eyes and step into the lift, Merrick padding beside me. He sits obediently by my leg as we ride up, the damp towel dripping in my hand.

When we reach my apartment, I open the door, and he follows me inside.

“Don’t you dare shift,” I warn, tossing the towel into the washing machine.

I fill a bowl with water and take a couple of raw steaks from the fridge. He has been losing weight, and I can’t stand seeing his ribs show. Placing the steaks on the floor next to the water bowl, I turn on my heel and march to my bedroom, slamming the door behind me.

In my dressing room, I change into pyjamas, then slam myself onto the bed, fluffing the pillow with more force than necessary.

With the covers pulled up to my chin, I listen to the rain and the soft tap-tap-tap of Merrick’s claws pacing the hallway. At last, I hear the door creak as he settles, leaning against it.

I growl under my breath and close my eyes, but sleep does not come.

I’m being childish and cruel.

I’ve never been one to use the silent treatment—it’s such an arsehole move, an awful tactic. Yet here I am, doing exactly that. It wasn’t my intention. I broke up with him; that should’ve been the end.

But getting rid of a shifter, a fated mate, is harder than it sounds.

He has decided to be my self-appointed bodyguard.

I don’t know who’s running his empire while he’s out here playing the world’s saddest stalker. Perhaps he is secretly working when I’m not looking.

What do I do with him?

I miss him. I… I love him. I wouldn’t be so hurt by his plan to catch Leonidas if I didn’t love him. But can I forgive him?

Chapter Forty-Eight

Unable to bearthe weight of my thoughts, I get up and creep to the door. I crack it open, and his ears perk up as he lifts his head to look at me. His eyes brim with longing and something that looks suspiciously like guilt.

“How long are you going to do this?” I whisper, exasperated. “You are driving me mad.”

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