Audrey couldn't help the small laugh that slipped from her lips—a bitter, hollow sound. She felt sorry for the foolish she-wolf she used to be.
The girl who had once believed Rowan Blackthorne was her mate.
She shifted her chair, turning away—until his voice rumbled behind her.
"Audrey."
She stopped.
Rowan stepped forward—imposing, broad-shouldered, radiating the Alpha confidence that had once made her wolf melt. Now it only grated on her nerves. He blocked her path as if he still had the right to stand in her way.
Audrey lifted her gaze, letting him see nothing in her eyes but cold, empty moonlight.
"I know you regret it," he said, his voice dripping with the arrogance of a wolf born with too much rank and too little sense. "You don't have to keep making a scene. What I told you yesterday still stands—move back into the villa. Don't stay in that rundown shed."
That was it.
The last shred of whatever feeling Audrey might once have had for him crumbled to ash.
