After the war, London is in chaos.
Packs are battling it out for dominance in the streets, lycans are killing each other in illegal fight dens. The Royals are being murdered.
All Juliet wants to do is forget - forget Sebastien, forget the wa...
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Michael was standing outside in the narrow hallway when Mia and I emerged from the room.
His face was a remote mask, every last shred of anger and frustration wiped from his expression. My knuckles throbbed and I hated how easy he made it look, how easy it was to just switch off, but before I could work myself up again I was hit with the smell of food.
My eyes dropped instinctively too the paper bag he was clutching in one hand, my stomach cramping hard. Oh heavens, I was starving...
"Here." He thrust the bag in my direction like he sensed I was seconds from taking his hand off. Maybe I should have exercised some caution, but I was way too hungry to do anything but snatch it from him, my hand crinkling the paper at the same time Mia piped up, "No, Michael, don't —"
"What the fuck did you do to your hand?" The words exploded out of him, the blank look on his face vanishing with a surge of fury.
I went to step backwards instinctively but he caught my wrist before I could, completely comfortable with manhandling me. He yanked me toward him roughly and attempted to inspect my hand.
Flickers of my earlier rage rose in my chest. My eyes narrowed to slits as I tugged on my arm, trying to wrench myself out of his grip — but his hand might as well have been a steel manacle for all the give in his grip. I was well and truly caught.
"Let go," I bit out.
He ignored me.
"Michael..." Mia tried again, softer, like she was trying to soothe him.
His head whipped in her direction, his jaw tightening as he raked his gaze over her from head to toe. It took me a second to realise he was checking her for injuries — injuries he obviously assumed she'd sustained at the mercy of my mangled hands.
Fury surged through me like lightning and a growl rumbled through my chest. Even if I had contemplated putting my hands on his precious little pack whore, did he really think I'd be so damn stupid to fuck with him like that when he had Theo? Especially when I'm made such a big production about getting to him earlier?
I attempted to snatch my hand back again but he held fast, his grip punishingly tight, as he inspected Mia.
"She didn't touch me," Mia said quickly.
The fact that she came to my defence only made me more pissed off. I didn't need —
The second I turned my furious gaze in her direction, Michael moved. My breathing hitched as he stepped right into my personal space, his jaw hardening. He was trying to intimidate me, towering over me and charging the air between us with the full force of his presence.
A little trickle of fear pierced my fury. Because I knew how this little game ended now; I could feel the tell-tale betrayal in my body as my heartbeat kicked up and my breathing accelerated. Flashes of the last few days, nights, however many hours tumbled through my head before I could stop them. The way it felt to have his hands on me, his mouth, his teeth.
