Gibs
ed up t
sharp edges. The small cut on my index finger
go to the
took off that deep red gown. I changed in
rk facing inward, and placed it inside a garment bag. I zipped it shut, the sound final, and
l night, watching the
Kaleb. It was Mark, his Beta. He stood there, holding a b
to you," he mumbled, his gaze f
ut a word and closed
in layers of tissue paper, was a scarf. It was made of the finest silk, shimmering with an iride
m it. Kaleb's scent, cedar and musk, was there. But underneath it, woven into the ve
't my p
A guilt gift. An expensive yet perfunctory trinke
s if it were contaminated and opened my l
dibly expensive designer brand, famous for infusing their silks
n the offic
blood r
tograph, was Cynthia Ryan. She was laughing, her head thrown back, a cascade of a dozen
icular, a shimmering piece draped ele
to the one lying
t even bothered to pick something out for me. He'd ju
colleague at Carlisle Enterprises I often consulted for information. I'd taken
e check something abou
lopedia of luxury brands and high-society
hat's Cynthia Ryan's new big deal! Her grandfather, Professor Julian Ryan, apparently pulled
y still. "L
wearing the signature scarf from the collection, and Alpha Kaleb even made a toast and publicl
he had praised her on, in front of the en
, my voice a strangled whi
up th
piece of silk. It was a symbol of his betrayal, a trophy from his vi
I walked to the grand stone fireplace that dominated the l
sitation, I tossed th
led instantly, turnin
there was noth
playing on his lips. He saw me sitting on the sofa in the dark and walked over
murmur, a tone of condescending affection he probably
gh so that his hands landed on the empty
lying face, and for the first t
ce flat and empty. "I d
He frowned, that familiar crea
top being
f his cologne, mingled with the faint, lingering scent of
id of all emotion. "I'll be sleepi
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