Page 76 of The Wolf Prince's Mate

“Clay…”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine.”

He inhaled again, and his grip relaxed fractionally. “Well, I am.”

“Lying to me and yourself isn’t going to get you anywhere worth going.” My voice was still muffled by his shirt, but I was sure he understood me. Or pretty sure, at least.

“It’s not a lie. Let’s just go back to the part where Hunter gave you things he had no right giving you.” Clay’s voice was still strained. “While I’m holding you like this.”

“Is this helping you calm your wolf?”

“Nah. Doesn’t need calming. His cage is impenetrable.”

I didn’t believe Clay.

The wolf was a part of him, after all. I didn’t see how he could legitimately keep half of himself caged.

“Hunter handed me a folder when he was leaving, after he apologized for everything he’d done and basically said he was finally going to let me live my life. He all but held me captive this past year. You do realize that, right? I spent heat suffering in the basement of his mansion—which wasn’t as perverted as it sounds. But still.”

“Mmhm.” Clay’s voice was straining more. It was gritty, too. “I still want to kill him for that. Just a little.”

I rolled my eyes, even though he couldn’t see it. “This behavior is a problem, Savage.”

“Nah. Continue.”

I huffed, but figured I might as well get it over with. “I opened the folder and found the titles and deeds for the house and Jeep. The house is gorgeous. I haven’t seen the room for the studio yet, but it’s probably fine. I still have to pick out furniture, but he gave me credit to some stores, so?—”

Clay smashed me against his chest harder. His nails dug into my skin, and I was pretty sure I felt the prick of claws.

I raised my voice, still speaking into his shirt. “He basically stole the last fifteen months of my life. He gave me all this shit to say he’s sorry. He’s not trying to woo me or anything. He’s just a rich bastard who?—”

“Stop,” Clay said harshly. His wolf was heavy in his voice. “Sorry. Just—stop. Something else. Say something else.”

“Something else about your brother, or?—”

“Not about him.” He snarled the words.

His claws didn’t dig any deeper though, so they didn’t break my skin.

“I… think I want to buy a pink couch. I saw one on the internet once, and it was freaking amazing. Also, I want to paint one of my walls red. Probably not the one behind the couch, unless I find the perfect shades of pink and red.”

“I’ll paint your wall red,” Clay said with a strained voice.

“That would be cool. I don’t know how to paint walls, so a lesson would be helpful.”

“It’s not hard. Just messy.”

“Sounds like your cock after my last heat ended.”

Clay snorted.

Then he laughed—hard. Until his shoulders were shaking and he leaned against my mostly-empty dresser, pulling me with him.

Finally, his grip on my shoulders eased, and he released me. His lips were still stretched in a grin, but there were creases at the corners of his eyes that weren’t from smiling. He was amused, but he was still pissed. And possibly struggling with his wolf.

“I don’t want to be your backup plan now that you and Hunter aren’t happening,” he said.

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