Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 69734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 232(@300wpm)
Lotta.
Oh, fate. I ran off and left my mate. I should’ve taken her into my arms and held her. Dropped to my knees and begged her forgiveness for being such an ass. Instead, I raged out and ran.
Hardly honorable mate behavior.
I wheel around. I need to get back to her. I abandoned my mate when I should’ve been there for her–twice.
Fuck. I need to get back as quickly as I can.
It takes me an eternity to get home. My brain has kicked in enough for me to realize I shouldn’t run straight to school in wolf form. Especially not bloody and limping as I am. I stop at my place and rinse off the blood, dust, and brambles in the shower. Several of my ribs and my lower leg are broken, and the pain of their regrowth is worse than the impact of that car that hit me.
And thank fuck it did because it knocked the sense back into me. If it hadn’t, I might be in Colorado by now. I wince as I hurriedly get dressed. School is already over, but Lotta will still be there.
I climb on my motorcycle and drive to school.
The team is out on the field. Coach Jamison puts his hands on his hips when he sees me. When I stalk toward the school, he blows his whistle and throws his hands in the air with a what the fuck? gesture.
I ignore him. Already desperate to see Lotta and apologize, now something has the hairs on my arms standing up.
Something feels off. Something besides what happened this morning.
I pull open the door to the school.
“Asher! What are you doing?” Coach yells.
I jog down the hallway to the art studio, the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.
Through the window of the door, I see another figure standing in the art studio with Lotta. A man.
A man is with my mate.
My logical brain tries to stop me. It’s probably the principal. Or the janitor. Or another teacher. It could be another student. My illogical thought is that it’s my dad.
A haze of red-brown covers my vision.
I know it’s not true, but my wolf needs to make sure. I have to eliminate all threats to my mate.
I grip the door handle hard enough to bust the hardware, but manage to stop myself before I yank. I try to force in a calming breath. I shouldn’t open this door. Lotta needs our relationship to remain a secret. How bad will it look if I go barging in there, and she’s with another teacher?
My wolf doesn’t give a fuck. He’s in a frenzy. He needs to get between Carlotta’s body and that other guy’s at all costs.
I squeeze my eyes closed, leashing the intense possessiveness I feel. I can’t show that here. I can’t show anything. I can’t fuck up this job for Lotta.
I grip the door knob and turn it slowly, silently. Lotta and her visitor are now hidden from my vantage point, standing behind the canvases in her makeshift studio.
“No, but the question is, what are you going to do for me?” There’s a sexually suggestive lilt to the man’s voice that makes me nearly shift. I want to tear him apart with my teeth and watch his blood spill all over the linoleum tile floor.
As I storm across the classroom, I hear the sound of a light slap. “Get off me, Andy.” There’s no ambiguity to her tone.
That’s all the green light I need to kill this guy. I somehow manage not to fling aside every canvas that stands in the way of me seeing them. I make it around the corner only knocking one easel over.
There, I find some asshole human crowding Lotta’s space, his hands resting on both her hips, his smiling face leaning close to her frowning one.
“She said get off.” There’s an inhuman growl to my voice.
“Asher!”
The alarm on Lotta’s face doesn’t register soon enough for me to check my aggression. I don’t know what she was going to say, but it’s too late. Nothing can stop me now.
I pick up Lotta’s visitor by the throat, draw my arm back and hurl him forward through the air. My healing ribs crack, rebreaking from the effort.
I forgot he was human. I forgot to hold back my strength.
He smashes through the plate glass window, his body continuing to soar through the air another twenty feet where he lands in a roll on the grass outside.
“Asher, no!” Lotta shrieks, her eyes wide with horror.
Her upset should slow me down, but instead my wolf only registers that she’s still in danger. I stomp across the broken glass, and kick out the remaining pieces along the frame, so I can jump out and finish him off.
“Asher!” Lotta jumps on my back, her forearm against my windpipe like she can choke me. I hardly feel her weight. I’m oblivious to what she wants from me.