The Secret Identity of His Unwanted Wolfless Mate

ony

r engagement

h the low hum of The Pi

eam cloud into the black.Across the table was my fiancé, Conor

e center of the white tablecloth.

Conor noticed. He liked an audience. H

for your

rested on his forearm. A picture of gentle support. "Conor, don't be so harsh

lashes, highlighting the tiny beauty mark at the corner of her right eye

violet that always unsettled people, flickered to their

, but for dramatic effect. To show everyone he

voice ringing with manufactured conviction.

aling out. "Everyone in New Haven knows you're a disgrace. A

ue! My sister... she just has her own way of doing thi

nced at the screen. Mom. Corine Welch. I s

g it as shame. "See? You can't even face your

arm coffee. I placed the cup back

s quiet, devoid of the emotion

y calmness threw

o look strained. "You must have practiced for days," I said, my tone c

r face. Her body gave a s

ctive roar for his new prize. "That's en

my chair back and stood. At five-foot-seven, I wasn't t

nd I didn't acknowledge insults. I smoothed a

id, my voice still lev

watching the triumph bloom on Conor's

dumping me, Conor." I met his ga

urious red. The hunter had just been in

ain. Not a call this

urried. The screen lit up with a

le is w

e and slid the phone

h again. I declined it and, for good me

their faces. I could feel it. I could feel the whispers fr

h to reach my waist, swung behin

nod to the doorman. He pulled open the heavy b

gle look back. The drama in that room was a cage, and I h

d a pillow. And Krissy, I was certain, was biting her lip, h

ave their li

work

at the curb, its engine a low, pow