Page 2 of Blood Owed (Blood Mafia 1)
“Humans aresoemotional,” the pixie says.
I glare at her over my shoulder. Of course she’s pulling on a magenta dress and it looks amazing on her. Fae and supes are different. Supes are superior humans, whereas fae come from an entirely different world. Hence the vibrant hair and pink skin.
Why couldn’t he have chosen someone uglier?
Someone non-fae?
Kevin grunts in agreement.
Mother freaking wolves.
Picking up the book I’ve been reading from the nightstand, I smack him in the face with it.
“I’ll show you emotional, you fucking animal.”
Before I can get in another swing, he’s partially shifted and pinning me to the floor. His chest heaves, and his eyes glow brighter.
My backbone flees, and I drop my gaze, submitting to him before his wolf decides to bite my head off.
“Unbelievable.” His scoff ruffles my hair. He shoves off the floor, standing in one swift movement.
“Get out.” I close my eyes, waiting for them to leave.
When the front door closes, I let out a groan of annoyance. I should’ve castrated him.
Rolling to my side, I shove myself off the red throw-rug and straighten my hair because it’s now a long, tangled mess. I go into the kitchen to grab my phone, wondering all the while if I’d go to jail for lighting my bed on fire. The mobile device sits alone on the island. The sack I’d come home with is gone.
The bastard took the food.
A tear rolls down my cheek.
I really wanted that orange chicken.
A trillingring fills the line for a few seconds before a familiar voice greets me.
“Lexi.”
My best friend sucks in a hissing breath when she hears my despondent voice. “What did that shifter son of a bitch do?”
“A gorgeous pixie.” I stare at the wall as I speak, feeling detached from everything.
Fuck him.
Kevin and I dated for the past two years. I loved him. I trusted him. It’s hard to come to terms with the complete and utter betrayal I feel. How long has he been screwing her?
A week?
A month?
Longer?
“I’m coming over. Take a shower and get dressed.”
“No, Lex.” I say, whining into the phone. Can’t she let me wallow in my misery?
“Seriously, woman. Don’t make me slap you. I can hear you retreating into your shell. Get up, take a shower, put on something sexy.”
I sigh. “Please tell me there will be tequila.” Drinking might not wash the pain away permanently, but it’ll be a nice Band-Aid for the night at least.
