“Don’t fucking talk. Are you new here?”
The other slid her palm over my already flagging erection. I gritted my teeth, fighting the impulse to fling her hand away. She moved to kiss me, and I jerked my chin away from her. “Not on the mouth,” I growled.
This wasn’t working.
I closed my eyes and let the fantasy of Sunday take over like the addict I was. The hands touching me became hers, the scent filling my nose, her cunt, and just like that, my dick thickened, and desire came roaring back. If I let myself, I could almost feel her wolf calling for mine. I could pretend she’d bared her throat and given in, letting me mark her and mate her.
Something inside me went taut, not with need but with an agonizing pain so intense I gasped. My eyes flew open, and I shoved both women off me, not caring that I’d practically thrown them onto the ground.
Something was very fucking wrong with Sunday.
I struggled for breath, my mouth filling with fangs as my wolf clawed its way to the surface. The brittle feeling in my chest intensified to the point I knew something irreplaceable was about to snap.
And then it did.
She was gone.
Sunday was gone, and the pull I’d always felt between us was severed. The only way that could be possible was if she’d left this plane of existence. She was my fated mate. Even if she never accepted me, I’d be able to sense her. Nothing but death could come between us.
I fucking broke.
With a roar, I stood and sent the table flying.
No.
No!
I refused to accept it. She couldn’t be dead. But if she wasn’t, that meant she’d severed the thread tying us together. No matter how many times she’d rejected me, I couldn’t stand the thought that she’d found a way to permanently break the bond between us.
I didn’t know which was harder to accept. But either way, I needed to know for sure.
With a precarious grip on my self-control, I stalked toward the hallway. I’d get to her. I’d see the truth with my own eyes.
And if it was her corpse I found, I would burn this entire fucking world to the ground.