Could it be…? My instincts were screaming at me, claws scraping at the edge of reason. Had Anastasia done something unspeakable in the den right there in the heart of Elliot's pack territory? Had she been lying all along when she claimed she didn't care for him? My wolf growled low in my chest at the thought. Was she already entangled with the Alpha long ago, weaving her dominance in silence?
The image of Elliot's neck flashed before my eyes the hickey, a mark of possession, deliberate and bold. She had planted it there just for me to see. Heat and fury coursed through me, my blood humming with the primal instinct to protect, to claim, to retaliate. Anastasia so cunning, so utterly shameless. Five years of silence, five years of plotting, and now this. My teeth ached with the need to sink them into her treachery.
"How shameless," I growled, voice low and dangerous.
