The Mate He Rejected
The only light came from the pale moon shining through a high, narrow window near the ceiling.
I stopped walking and let go of his wrist.
"What is it?" Cullen asked softly, his voice a low, rough rumble in the dark. He stepped closer, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. "Did Bronson say something to you?"
"No," I whispered.
I closed the remaining distance between us. I placed my hands flat against his chest, feeling the steady, heavy thumping of his heart beneath his shirt. I pushed him backward, walking him until his broad back hit the edge of the tall wooden shelf. The ancient books rattled slightly on the planks.