Page 67 of Purchased

That makes her laugh.

* * *

Beatrix

There’s a file on Armand’s desk with a little skull embossed in gold on it. I am trying not to look at it too directly, but my gut is telling me I should really look inside.

Can’t do it now. Will have to come back later. Sneak in late at night, see what it is. Or maybe tomorrow. Whatever’s inside is calling to me.

I could just ask him what it is, but the same instinct that tells me it is important tells me he won’t tell me.

I nibble Armand’s neck, and I pretend not to pay it any mind, but that folder just became the center of my world.

CHAPTER15

Armand

“You cannot tell anyone what I tell you, right?”

“Yes,” Volkov says. “You have complete confidentiality in this room.”

“I have information that suggests my mate is from an ancient line of wolves. These wolves did not breed out the way most lines did. They remained primitive in some respects, more primal in their desires and in their deeds.”

“So you’re putting her behavior down to genetics, not the experience of being abandoned and growing up without context in a cruel human world that was incapable of tending to her needs even if it had been interested, which it was not. Interesting.”

“Now you’re making me sound…”

“What?”

“My researcher was very disturbed by what he discovered about her heritage. He claims that breeding with her could contaminate our bloodline.”

“What you’re describing is racism.”

Those words hit me like a blunt hammer. I have no desire to think that way, or to discriminate.

“Wolves believe in pack lines because they are, well, you know, significant in property matters…” I start to say, because I know he is right. But I am skirting around the edges of the problem, and I know it.

“He said she’d be violent, and she is. He said her shift was not precipitated by love, but by killing, which it seems to have been. She is different than we are. If we have children, they might have the same tendencies. They might lean toward killing. If they’re female, they might not be able to take their wolf forms until they off someone. And that’s just impractical on many levels…”

“Why?”

“Because falling in love with your fated mate and being transformed by the act of love is beautiful. And having to kill someone is not.”

He nods and makes a note.

“But it doesn’t matter,” I say. “Because come what may, she is my fated mate. She was made for me. I love her more than I love life. I have never bonded with anyone the way I have with her. I have never loved so deeply, been so frustrated, cared so much, felt so protective… and so protected. She would do anything for me.”

“The devotion of a strong woman is a powerful thing,” Mr. Volkov agrees. “I am glad you can see that. Being able to appreciate her is an important step toward resolving this ambivalence.”

His words carry an accusation couched in gentle therapist speech that makes me want to rip his throat out. Smug fucker.

“The last thing I have ever felt about Beatrix is ambivalent,” I declare. “I don’t actually care where she comes from, or what her bloodline is, or even if she was intimate with someone before me. I just want to know her truth. That’s it.”

I get up to leave the room, before I give into my urge to hit him again.

I am about to open the door when it is kicked open. I find myself pushed around behind it as Beatrix bursts in and throws the file that was on my desk at Volkov. It hits him in the chest and bursts open, showering papers everywhere.

“I’m an evil psychopath!” She makes the declaration. “They have a whole file on me. My mate has a whole fucking set of research on me that I didn’t even know he was doing.”

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