Page 17 of The Piece You Stole

“Three things happen when you bite someone,” I yell at his retreating back, the defiance in my voice surprising me.

Rylan continues his easy pace toward the open doorway.

My narrowed eyes track him every step of the way. “In three years, you haven’t been able to turn me. Is your wolf sostupid—?” A hand closes tight around my throat, stealing the air from my lungs.

I gasp, choke, and scrabble desperately to peel it away.

Nathan leans close, blocking my view of Rylan. “Show the alpha respect, sweetheart.”

My lungs burn with the effort to breathe, my face hot, my fingers frantic as tiny pinpricks of light dance across my vision.

“Nathan.” One word. One order from Rylan, and I’m free.

I fight to drag air into my lungs, the copper tang of blood in the air reminding me that Rylan tore into my throat before, and if it was on its way to healing, it isn’t anymore.

“You keep your hands to yourself while you have her here.” Rylan’s voice cuts through my heavy pants as I stare at the floor, relearning how to breathe. “We’re going to the playground tonight. The whole pack. Saige still needs reminding that the only one who has the power over life and death is me. After that…” his voice trails off.

It’s easy enough to fill in the silence.

Only one thing happens in the playground, but even the thought of what will happen to me there isn’t enough to terrify me. It’s the thought of something else that does that.

I lift my head; my breathing still unsteady. My gaze locks on Nathan, who seemed to have been waiting for just that moment.

His smile of naked delight makes me lean away from him. He leans closer, lifting his hand to tuck a strand of hair behind my ear. I shudder, and his smile widens. “While you slept the better part of two days away, sweetheart, I’ve been planning all the ways we can fill our week together.”

Two days? I was out cold for two days?

My terror mounts by the second, my heart pounding harder and harder as my palms turn clammy. “Rylan’s wolf won’t let you keep me that long.”

I don’t know who I’m trying to convince, myself, Nathan, or Rylan.

Nathan raises an eyebrow. “You think your pussy is just that good?”

Itkillsme to say the words, but I have to say them, “I’m his mate.”

Rylan is mostly happy to pretend that I don’t exist if I sit still enough in my corner of the bedroom. Or unless he wants to fuck. He didn’t use to be that way, but that’s the reality I’m used to now.

Nathan has never pretended I don’t exist. From the moment that Rylan brought me here, his eyes would follow me. Always. I’d read the hunger in them, and I knew the thing he hungered for was nothing I wanted to give him.

“You’ve proven to be a crushing disappointment on all fronts, sweetheart,” he drawls.

I dart a glance at Rylan to confirm what he thinks of Nathan’s comment.

But there’s no one there. A moment later, a muffled conversation starts up. One that involves investment portfolios and offshore accounts.

“Like I said,” Nathan continues, the mock pity in his voice making me grind my teeth. “A crushing disappointment.”

* * *

“You’re not eating.” Nathan’s voice is so self-satisfied that I know the instant I lift my head from the four-hundred-dollar steak dinner on my plate, I’ll find him reclining in his seat, a smug smile stretching his lips.

Across the six-seater glass table in Rylan’s ultra-white, ultra-minimalist dining room, our eyes connect.

Beside us, neon lights flicker in the dark city.

An hour before, Nathan took my hand, pulled me up from Rylan’s bedroom floor, and led me to the closet, standing at the entrance as he pointed out the dress and heels he wanted me to wear. Short and black. Heels tall and black.

No panties or bra because they’d only get in the way.

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