Page 3 of Bitten Shifter

We were perfect together.

He was my person. I gave everything to our marriage. I would’ve done anything for Paul, the one I loved beyond measure. I’ve always been a do-or-die kind of girl. Loyal.

I’m done.

I’m so done.

A whining sound, full of pain, bubbles up from my chest. Even as I hear it, I can’t seem to stop—it’s the sound of a tortured dog.

There’s a thump upstairs, followed by laughter.

The horrid noise I’m making cuts off as my lips curl in disgust. I stare at the ceiling, my fingers flexing toward the knife drawer as though possessed.

I am not safe.Wow. That’s such a weird, honest thought.They aren’t safe with me here.

Now I understand why good people snap and go on a rampage. The crazy wants to burst out of my chest, clawing its way free like some alien creature.

I drag my hand away from the knife drawer again, the limb flopping to my thigh like dead weight.

I don’t know how this happened.

There were no signs. No hidden phone calls. No suspicious behaviour. Or maybe there were, but I was too blind to see them.Even if there had been, I wouldn’t have believed they could betray me like this.

My rose-coloured glasses don’t go this shade of messed up.

I don’t know how long it’s been going on. Maybe it started today, or it could’ve been years.

Do I even want to know?

Does it matter?

There’s no going back for me. Not now.

What do I do? What the heck do I do? I could wait right here and confront them when they come downstairs. Scream. Cry. Wail. Listen to their lies as they twist everything until I don’t know which way is up or down.

I could give Paul a chance to explain. But I already know what he will do. He will try to convince me to forgive him.

Forgiveness.

When I refuse, it will turn nasty. Paul won’t be able to help himself. The blame game will start, and somehow, all of this will end up being my fault. And then what?

Now that I’ve uncovered their affair, what if they decide to chuck me out?

I can almost hear Dove’s voice, dripping with faux sincerity:“We’re in love, Lark, and this is our house now.”

The thought hits me like a punch, and I rock back a step, slapping a hand over my mouth to stifle the manic cry clawing its way up my throat.

I’m expendable.

The realisation burns through my chest, sharp and unrelenting.

What if they don’t care? What if they have no regrets? My heart, my ego, my sense of self—none of it will survive if they end up together. If Dove takes over my life.

I stand there, staring into space, while my inner voice screams at me to leave.Run. Get out.

But I’m frozen.

All I know is that I cannot—will not—be here when they come downstairs.

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