Page 64 of Purchased

His tone softens a fraction. “I am not here to mock you, Armand. I am here to do what you paid me to do.”

“You’re supposed to fix the girl who drags men from their beds and slaughters them.”

“No. You’re supposed to be her alpha. You’re supposed to have control of her, and you would have control of her, if you had control of yourself.”

I surprise myself again.

I punch him in the face.

I’ve actually punched him before I even realize I’m going to do it. My fist is in motion, meeting flesh and skin and bone in a hard blow that makes my knuckles crack open and start bleeding instantly.

He’s already glaring at me furiously by the time I realize what I’ve done.

“I’m sorry,” I apologize instantly.

He opens the door. “My mistake,Maître. I should not have cornered you.”

“I’ll send for the doctor.”

“No need. It’s just a bump.”

I look at his face, and see that I’ve barely marked him. My knuckles have come off worse. They’re bruised already. I can feel it. Flexing them hurts like hell, and I’ve managed to take the annoyingly thin skin off them.

I walk out of the room at a quick clip, not entirely sure where I’m going or why. There will be some pack business to attend to, I am sure, something to take my mind off all the failings the therapist I got for my traumatized mate won’t stop bringing up.

By sheer chance—or maybe not by chance at all—Beatrix intercepts me. If I did not know better, I would say my feisty young mate has been guarding me ever since Mr. Volkov’s arrival. Her concern for me is very sweet.

She grabs my wrist and pulls my hand toward her face, her eyes going slightly crossed as she inspects the damage.

“What did he do to you?”

“Nothing. I punched him.”

She smiles broadly. “Good for you!”

“Maître!” It seems Antoine has returned from his reconnaissance mission. He is standing in the hall behind us with what I can only describe as a stricken expression on his face.

I definitely want to hear what he has to say, but I don’t want Beatrix to be a part of that conversation just yet.

“I have to attend to this,” I tell her. “We can talk more about this later, okay?”

“Okay,” she smiles. “I’m so proud of you.”

She’s adorable when she’s happy. I don’t know that I have made her as happy with anything else I’ve done. I briefly consider punching Antoine in case that makes her smile, but obviously choose not to.

* * *

Beatrix

Armand is busy, and now, so am I.

There’s something going on between the therapist and my mate. For Armand to have punched him, he must have been upset. That means Volkov upset him, and that, I will not fucking stand.

I don’t like this interloper. I don’t like what he does to Armand. I don’t like how he makes him unsure of himself. Armand is the alpha. He is my mate. Everybody he meets should bow to him. That is the natural order of things.

Mr. Volkov is an anomaly. I don’t like him. I don’t like the way he looks. There’s something about him I just can’t trust.

Armand is trying to do everything right, and that’s making him vulnerable. I’m not defenseless that way. I already know that it doesn’t matter if you try to do things right or not, things go to hell anyway.

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