Chapter 5

Karina POV

"Give it to her," he commanded, his voice a low rumble.

He passed a suit jacket to the older man, then, without a second glance in my direction, walked over to the Maybach and slid inside.

The older gentleman hurried over, holding out the jacket.

"Miss, you're soaked. Please take this."

I looked down and felt a hot flush of horror creep up my neck.

My white blouse was completely see-through.

"Thank you," I mumbled gratefully, taking the jacket and shrugging it on.

The older man spoke quietly with the police officer as the Maybach pulled away, its taillights disappearing into the torrent.

I only caught a brief glimpse of the stranger's elegant profile, but the image was seared into my mind.

The jacket was still warm from his body, and it smelled of sandalwood and something else, something wild and untamed that instantly soothed my frazzled nerves.

After the police finished their report and we exchanged information, the older gentleman offered to take me to the hospital for my head wound.

My anger had mostly faded, replaced by exhaustion.

"I'm sorry for being so difficult earlier," I said, meaning it. "I've had a really awful day, and I took it out on you. It wasn't even your fault."

I gestured to the jacket.

"I'll get this cleaned and return it to you."

He simply nodded, his expression gracious.

As I finally drove myself to the hospital, my phone started blowing up with calls from Edward.

A bitter laugh escaped my lips.

It was so typical of him to disappear when I needed him, only to reappear with a desperate white-knight act when I wanted nothing to do with him.

After eight years, he still didn't get it, or maybe he just never bothered to understand a human's feelings.

He'd chosen someone else when he should have been there for me.

Now that I was finally moving on, he wanted to pretend he cared.

What a clueless idiot!

I sat in the emergency room, wincing as the doctor dabbed antiseptic on the cut across my forehead.

The sting was sharp, but it was nothing compared to the emotional gutting I'd been through all day.

The door suddenly burst open with a crash that made the doctor flinch.

Edward stormed in, his eyes wild with a fury I knew was equal parts anger and concern.

He looked like a territorial alpha, and the scent of his stress and dominance flooded the small, sterile room.

I glanced over my shoulder, meeting his intense gaze.

"It's okay," I told the startled doctor, forcing a calm I didn't feel. "He's my boss."

The word "husband" almost slipped out from sheer habit, but I caught it.

He wasn't my husband, not really.

He never had been.

Edward's throat worked; his Adam's apple bobbing as he choked back whatever growl had been building in his chest.

"How bad is it?" he demanded, his voice a low rumble.

"Just a minor cut," the doctor replied. "All business, nothing to worry about."

He showed zero interest in our drama, finishing the bandage on my temple before handing me a prescription for some cream.

I thanked him and left the room.

Edward's presence a heavy shadow at my back.

He pushed past me in the hallway to pay my bill and pick up my prescription, putting on a perfect show of the devoted husband for the hospital staff.

The irony was so thick I could taste it.

I didn't bother arguing.

What was the point?

Whatever had connected us was severed the moment I saw those texts on his phone.

Outside, I pulled out my phone to call a rideshare, but Edward snatched it from my hand with wolf-like speed.

His arm curled around my shoulders, guiding—no, forcing—me toward the parking lot.

The possessive gesture might have felt like a shield once.

Now it just felt like a cage.

He wrenched open the passenger door and all but shoved me inside before stalking around to the driver's side.

The door slammed shut with enough force to shake the whole car, trapping us in a silence that crackled with tension.

"You... you blocked my number," he finally said, his voice dangerously low as he turned to face me. "Were you trying to kill yourself just to make a point?"

I stared at him, stunned and silent by the sheer audacity.

Then, a laugh bubbled up from my chest—a raw, broken sound.

It was either that or start sobbing again, and I was all out of tears.

The idea that I would risk my life just to wound his ego was so narcissistic; it was almost impressive.

How had I been with him for eight years and never truly seen this side of him?

"Don't worry," I said, my voice dripping with sarcasm as I reached for my phone. "You won't have to carry that weight. Now give it back."

Edward pulled it out of my reach.

"I admit I lied to you," he snapped. "But you ignored her. You embarrassed her in front of everyone. You even disrespected my mother. Don't you think that's a problem? Lila is just a kid who's been spoiled her whole life. Why did you have to get so worked up?"

Oh, Edward, I thought, if only you could see yourself right now.

After a long, heavy pause, I finally spoke.

My voice hollow.

"I won't confront her again. I won't get in the middle of whatever you two have going on. Just please keep her away from me. I don't need her brand of spontaneity in my life."

"She's like a sister to me," he insisted, his brow furrowed in frustration. "Werewolves are loyal to their mates. It's not what you think."

"Right. Loyalty," I repeated, my fingers itching to show him the proof I'd found—the late-night calls, the intimate texts, the hotel receipts. Instead, I just said, "Fine, I overreacted. My mistake. Congratulations on your new sister."

The silence that fell between us was as cold and hard as a wall of ice.

"Just drive," I said, pulling the borrowed suit jacket tighter around myself.

The fabric carried an addictive scent of sandalwood and something wilder, and for a moment it was the only comfort I had.

Edward's gaze dropped to the jacket, his eyes narrowing as if he was just now noticing it.

His nostrils flared, a primal reflex like a wolf catching the scent of a rival on his territory.

"Whose jacket is this?" he demanded, his face darkening.

I turned to stare out the window, throwing his own words back at him.

"He's like a brother to me, my new brother."

Something dangerous flashed in Edward's eyes.

He moved like lightning, leaning across the console and yanking the jacket off my shoulders before hurling it out the open window.

"No!" I shouted, fumbling with my seatbelt and scrambling to get out of the car.

It was a stupid piece of clothing, but it was a kindness, and I had promised to return it.

A low growl rumbled in Edward's chest as he grabbed my arm and hauled me back into the seat.

Before I could even protest, his mouth crushed down on mine.

I sealed my lips shut, refusing to yield.

But that only made him angrier.

He gripped my jaw, forcing me to open for him.

The kiss wasn't loving; it was a punishment, a brutal claiming.

When he finally pulled back, his breath was hot against my skin.

His eyes gleaming with possessive rage.

"Don't you ever try to make me jealous," he warned. "You should think about how your actions affect other people."

I just stared at him, my mind reeling.

In all our years together, I'd never seen this person.

Or maybe I'd just refused to look.

Outside, the jacket lay abandoned on the wet asphalt.

I had promised to return it clean.

A wave of hopelessness washed over me.

What was I supposed to do now.