Page 80 of Bad Wolf's Nanny
“I would’ve given youeverything,Dane,” she said, voice trembling, tears welling in her eyes, “and you threw it in my face.”
His chest heaved. “I didn’t know what to do with everything I felt.”
“I thought we were building something,” she cried, “and maybe that’s my fault. Maybe I’m the idiot for… for assuming there was more to this than just… just sex. And I thought you felt the same way, too.”
That word hit him like a blow.
Good.
“You want me to fall back into your arms now because I’m carrying your baby?” she asked, voice rising. “You want to swoop in and play the hero? Patch over the rejection with your alpha instincts and protectiveness, like it’s supposed to make everything okay?”
“I just want to fix it.”
“It can’t be fixed,” she shouted, tears spilling out now, “can’t you see that? How am I ever supposed to know that you actually want me, and this isn’t just some stupid alpha thing? You had your chance to chooseme,and you hid behind your responsibilities. Now that I’m one of them, you’ll finally open up to me? Like I’m some… some…burdenfor you to bear?”
He moved then, slowly, one hand reaching out, tentative.
She slapped it away.
“You only want me because you’re scared to lose me now. That’s not love. That’s desperation.”
“Idolove you.”
It was the first time he’d said it.
And it made her flinch.
She stared at him like he was a stranger. Like she was trying to understand who he really was and why he’d waited until now, until her body had become someone else’s sanctuary, to finally admit it.
“Don’t,” she said quietly. “Don’t say that now.”
“Why not?” he rasped.
“Because Ineededyou to say it then.”
And with that, she turned her back to him, shaking, furious, heart in shreds.
She needed out.
Now.
Lola stormed around the apartment, barely able to see straight through the thick veil of emotion blurring her vision. Fury. Humiliation. Panic. Her hands shook as she tore open the coat closet, yanked out her dark wool trench coat, and shoved her arms into the sleeves.
She hated this.
She hated that he still had the power to make her feel like this. Like the ground had been pulled out from under her. Like she was unraveling from the inside out.
Her hands fumbled for her boots. She sat down heavily on the bench near the door, trying to jam them on without thinking too hard about the way her fingers were trembling. She could still feel the ghost of his body against hers. Still hear the way his voice had cracked when he’d said he loved her.
Too little, too late.
The baby. The fight. The kiss. Theclaiming.
Everything he’d done tonight came from that same wild, dominant, territorial instinct. Not because hechoseher. Not because helovedher in a way that had nothing to do with biology or fear or alpha obligation. Just because he was panicking, and her body had suddenly become important to him.
She wanted to scream.
Instead, she grabbed her bag from the table, shoved her keys and phone into it, and stormed back through the living room.
