Corvina wouldn't let him leave. She stretched across the sheets, her swollen belly barely covered, and purred, "Theron, you're incredible. So much better than my late mate ever was. Thank you for giving me such an amazing experience."
"You're not bad yourself. Way more uninhibited than Sera."
A laugh scraped out of my throat before I could stop it. Bitter. Broken.
My wolf flinched at the sound of it. Or maybe I flinched. I couldn't tell where she ended and I began anymore.
Theron's head snapped toward the doorway. His nostrils flared, catching my scent, and I watched the color drain from his face in the space of a single breath. Corvina gasped and yanked the sheets over herself, her sweet-sick scent spiking with something sharp. Fear, maybe. Or performance.
"Oh my, it's Seraphina Silvercrest! She must have gotten the wrong idea. Theron, hurry, go explain things to her."
Theron pulled on a robe and stepped out. When he saw the tears streaked down my face, his brows drew together in a hard line. Not guilt. Not shame. Irritation. Like I was the problem. Like my grief was an inconvenience that had wandered into his hallway uninvited.