Chapter 60

Kayla

The blood drained from my face as I stared at the photograph on the coffee table. I felt sick. My stomach twisted, threatening to betray me as I forced myself to stay still. The room suddenly felt stifling, the air thick and hard to swallow.

There Nicholas was, in the same clothes he was wearing now, sitting at a candlelit table in a fancy restaurant. Across from him sat a beautiful woman I didn’t recognize, leaning toward him with an expression on her face that could only be described as flirtatious.

Her perfectly styled hair, her red lips curved into a coy smile—everything about her screamed the type of woman Nicholas would entertain.

The kind of woman he’d leave me behind for.

I wasn’t jealous. At least, that was what I kept telling myself. I knew from the beginning that Nicholas was a playboy, that this ‘relationship’ was nothing more than a convenience to both of us, that even if we took things a step further and slept together that it would mean nothing.

But I couldn’t help the way my heart hammered as I stared at the picture.

The guildsman adjusted his glasses and watched us, no doubt looking for a crack in our facade. “Is this you, Alpha Reynolds?” he asked, tapping the photo with his pen. “And who might this woman be?”

My fingers itched to grab the photograph and tear it to shreds, maybe along with Nicholas himself.

But I couldn’t. Not in front of the guild, at least.

Instead, I clenched my fists in my lap, digging my nails into my palms to keep myself from reacting. My heart hammered in my chest as I turned to Nicholas, expecting to see some flicker of panic in his expression.

But, of course, he didn’t falter.

He reached for the photograph with infuriating calm, studying it as if he hadn’t known exactly what it showed. Then he looked up, meeting the guildsman’s gaze with an easy smile.

“Ah, yes,” he said smoothly, setting the photo back on the table. “That’s our wedding planner. Honey,” he turned to me, his smile turning warm, “I was planning to surprise you, but I suppose the cat’s out of the bag now. I was meeting with her to discuss the possibility of having the pack’s finest chef cater our wedding.”

My eyebrows shot up disbelievingly. But Nicholas held the picture out to me and I leaned in, studying it again. I recognized the surroundings of the restaurant now that I took a closer look: it was undeniably the fanciest restaurant in the area, La Fleur’s. Owned and run by the most prestigious chef in the pack.

The guildsman seemed satisfied, jotting down a note as he nodded. “Ah, I see. That’s quite thoughtful of you, Alpha.”

But I wasn’t satisfied. Not even close. My eyes darted to Nicholas, whose face was utterly unreadable as he sat back. He draped one arm casually across the back of the sofa, his other still wrapped firmly around my hips.

As if he wasn’t a fucking liar.

As if he hadn’t stayed out all night, now looking too disheveled for a simple meeting and too smug for his own good.

This wasn’t just a wedding planning meeting. I didn’t care how good of a liar Nicholas was; I knew better than that.

The interview wrapped up quickly after that, the guildsman leaving with a polite farewell and a promise to return the following week. I kept my smile plastered across my face the entire time, waving alongside Nicholas as the guildsman pulled out of the driveway.

But as soon as the door clicked shut behind him, snapped. Baring my teeth, I yanked myself away from Nicholas’s grasp, then turned on my heel and stormed upstairs without a word.

“Kayla,” Nicholas called from behind me, but I ignored him. I made it to the bedroom door, slamming it shut and fumbling with the lock, but he was faster.

The door flew open before I could lock it, and Nicholas stepped inside, his tall frame filling the space and making the room feel unbearably small.

“Get out,” I snapped, my voice shaking with rage. “Get out right now, you fucking—”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly, shutting the door behind him. “This is my house, Kayla. Don’t forget that.” And with that, he just stood there in front of the door, his arms crossed over his chest, his expression cool but his eyes flashing with something far darker.

“Is that so?” I laughed bitterly. “Seems like a pretty lofty statement for someone who spent the night in a motel room with another woman. Or did you go to her place to save some money?”

His jaw tightened, and it seemed I’d stuck a nerve. He stepped closer, his dark shadow like a storm cloud looming over me, but I held my ground and lifted my chin at him.

“Is that what you think happened last night?” he growled, his voice low, dangerous.

I crossed my arms over my chest, meeting his gaze with as much steel as I could muster. “Well, you reek of her perfume, you didn’t come home all night, and you’re wearing the same clothes you were wearing yesterday. Seems pretty clear to me.”

His eyes darkened, and he took another step forward, forcing me to tilt my head back to maintain eye contact with his tall frame. “And if I told you that I did sleep with her,” he said, his voice low and velvety as he leaned in, “would it make you jealous or not?”

My breath hitched, and I hated myself for it. I hated the way my body reacted to his closeness, how my heart stuttered in my chest and my knees threatened to buckle underneath me.

And most of all, I hated how, despite my unending fury, I wanted to grab his shirt and pull him down to me and suck on his face.

“I…” I swallowed hard, willing myself to stay strong despite all these things. “I’d never get jealous over the likes of you.”

His lips curved into a wicked smirk, no doubt sensing the tiny waver in my voice, but there was no humor in his eyes. “Then what would you think if I slept with her, if you claim you’re not jealous?” he purred.

I hesitated, my mind racing as I tried to steady my breathing. Finally, I squared my shoulders, refusing to let him intimidate me. “I’d think,” I said slowly, “that if you slept with her, then I have every right to have relationships with other men throughout the course of our contract. And you have no right to try and stop me. Nor do you have a right to use our mate bond against me, to bend me to your will like a puppet whenever you feel like it.”

My words hung in the air for a moment, and Nicholas froze.

Slowly, too slowly, his infuriating smirk disappeared, replaced by a hard line as his jaw worked silently. For a moment, he said nothing, just stared at me with an intensity that made my skin prickle.

But I held his gaze, refusing to back down from what I’d just said. Maybe it wasn’t entirely true, but I wasn’t about to admit that to him or even myself. And maybe I never would.

Finally, without a word, he turned on his heel and stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

The sound echoed through the house, and I stood there, trembling, as his footsteps faded down the hallway.