Page 61 of The Alpha's Bullied Rejected Mate
Chapter 12 - Athena
She shouldn’t have been eavesdropping.
But how could she not?
Athena hadn’t meant to stay. She had woken up with a damp cloth on her forehead. It was still warm, meaning that whoever had placed it there had been here recently. She could only think of one name, but she doubted he would go through all that trouble for her.
She was only going to step out for some fresh air. But the moment she heard Kieran and Marcus’s voices from below, something inside her stilled. Their voices were low and clipped, but they had echoed loudly through the stairway.
“She’s not a dark witch,” Kieran had muttered, and Marcus had agreed with him.
But somehow, she was intrigued to know what they wanted to do with her now as she listened in on their conversation.
Athena’s breath hitched in her throat, and her spine went rigid.
Witches camp? Seduce another witch?
It felt as though her insides had turned to lead. Like her stomach had curled in on itself.
She had heard Kieran question Marcus’s plans for her and Riley, and he had suggested sending her to some witch rescue camp while he went about seducing another witch.
Athena turned from the hallway before she heard another word. Her stomach roiled.
She should have known better. She was stupid to think he had changed. He probably only nursed her because her being sick meant more paperwork for him.
She couldn’t stay here. And she would not live by their rules. Now that they knew she was innocent, they should let her go.
Although she doubted they would do so now.
So she would do what she did best—run.
She stormed back into the room where she had rested.
There was nothing to pack. She had come here with nothing, and she would leave with nothing.
Athena opened up the wardrobe that had been provided in the room and fished through the clothes in them until she found a cloak. She strode quickly toward the room where Riley lay and picked up her son in his arms, wrapping the cloak around them.
She reached for the door but hesitated as she went toward the bedside table, pulled the second drawer to reveal the dagger Marcus had swung at her the previous day, to protect herself. She retrieved the weapon and stormed out through the door.
She had barely made it past the back exit she had scouted when a voice stopped her cold in her tracks.
Marcus.
He stepped out into the night, with his eyes glinting like a full wolf’s under the moonlight.
Her fingers gripped the dagger tightly like it could anchor her.
“Where are you going?” he questioned, taking heavy steps toward her.
She stretched the dagger toward him. “Stay back. Don’t pretend you care.”
“I do care,” he said evenly, his steps slower and measured this time.
“And I’m not pretending,” he added.
She shook her head. “You can’t just say that now. Not after—”
“And I’m not pretending,” he added.
